CW- attempted assault
Ava’s days had all seemed brighter since Damalia entered her life. The normal squawking of birds were mellifluous in her ears. Her food held more flavor, and she couldn’t help the smile that plastered her face when her thoughts drifted to their evenings together.
It felt wonderful to have a secret. So many of her experiences at the temple were open and shared; she loved having something for herself.
Her evenings with Damalia and her weekly trip to the market were quickly becoming her favorite activities. Mia had been so grateful towards Ava after the delivery debacle, that she was given a free jar of jam from her market stall each week.
While the priestesses normally would disapprove of such gluttony, they made an exception- as long as she shared her candied fruit with the other servants and maidens when she returned.
The afternoon sun shone in the sky as she made her weekly trip to the town. Crisp, fresh air filled her nostrils. It was a bright, warm day, so she forewent the cloak, opting for her plain gossamer dress instead.
She loved the feeling of loose dirt beneath her sandals, rather than the polished stone of the temple. There was something authentic and calming about being close to the earth. She walked through the grassy knolls while green sprigs tickled at her shins. She couldn’t help but think this is where she belonged. Maybe her mother had been a farmer, perhaps this is where she was meant to be….
She equally enjoyed the hustle and bustle within the village of Arlen. Though being around so many strangers was intimidating, it always felt like an adventure. Also, she had plenty of familiar faces to keep her calm.
She walked up to a meager canvas stall and Mia greeted her warmly. She was always excited to show off her rapidly growing, chunky baby boy.
“He just loves you!” the shop owner cooed. “I think he knows you’re the reason he had a proper birth.”
“It was nothing,” Ava insisted. It was easy to forget the pain of Kalliope’s switch with such a handsome young baby giggling at her. “You don’t need to keep thanking me.”
“Nonsense!” Mia tutted. She rummaged around her market stall until she pulled out a small glass jar. “I have figs in balsamic glaze for you today. I think you’ll enjoy it. Here, take a bite.”
Mia proffered a wooden spoon, which Ava took eagerly. The sugary and acidic flavors burst across her tongue; shouldn't help but release a small moan at the sensation. “This is delicious! It’s so rich and sweet compared to the temple food.”
Mia leaned in conspiratorially. “If you want something really sweet, you should try the baklava from the bakery down the road. Best I’ve had in some time.”
Ava’s stomach rumbled at the suggestion. She’d saved a small allowance and was hoping to buy something for herself; that sounded like the perfect treat. She could even split some of the pastry with Damalia, assuming it was large enough.
The blonde tucked away her jar and planted a small kiss on Mia’s cheek before wandering down the busy street to find the sweets shop. She knew she was at the right place from the smell alone. The air was perfumed with rich spices and yeast, which only added to her hunger.
She leaned against the wooden building and she placed her order, gladly handing over her small brass coins.
“We’re making some fresh dough right now,” the baker replied. “Wait a few minutes on the outdoor chairs and we can bring some out.”
She nodded and made her way to a three legged stool, which wobbled unsteadily beneath her. She tapped her fingers on the oak storefront, blissfully unaware of the attention she was garnering.
After a few moments of waiting, she heard a whisper in her left ear.
“Why haven’t I seen you here before, sweetheart?”
She turned her head and came nose to nose with an oily looking man with thick facial hair. Based on his garb, he was probably a soldier that had docked in Arlen to restock supplies.
“I work in the temple,” she replied flatly. "I spend most of my time there." She hoped her tone would purvey her lack of interest in him, but he seemed unable (or unwilling) to take a hint.
Instead, his greasy fingers pulled at the pale fabric of her robes. “Should have guessed that based on the get-up.” He was now leaning in close enough that she could smell the stale scent of alcohol on his breath. “Seems weird, virgins tending to all them knocked-up chicks. You are a virgin, right?"
Ava flushed scarlet. She had little experience speaking to men, and even less dealing with such crass behavior. "I-," she stuttered, completely lost for words. "T-That's not-"
"I’m sure it’d be easier for you if you had experience.” He attempted to tuck a lock of her flaxen hair behind her ear, but she smacked his oversized hand away, appalled at the implication.
“Don’t touch me," she hissed. Her eyes swept rapidly over the bustling street, but no one appeared to notice her distress.
"Oh, don't be like that." He leaned in closer to her cheek. "You don't have to pretend. Don't act like you aren't curious about it." He attempted to lean in again, prompting her to slap him with even more force.
"No," she spat. "I am not."
The man’s expression soured. “Oh? Feeling feisty, are we?”
Before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped his arms around her and covered her mouth with a calloused, dirty palm. For a moment, she was frozen. Paralyzed at the horrible and unexpected turn of events. He easily lifted her off the ground and dragged her to a side alleyway. His fingers dug into her skin, leaving bruises in their wake.
She scratched at his clothing, but it was too thick to make a difference. In the darkened alley, she managed to wriggle his hand free. “Help!” she yelled, her voice high-pitched and ragged. “Someone, please help me!”
The only people that had followed them down the side-street appeared to be the man’s friends. They only clapped and jeered as she struggled, egging him on.
Her breathing stopped as she felt a calloused hand creep up her white robe. In a fit of panic, she flung her head backwards, causing it to collide with her attacker's face.
She was unceremoniously dropped as he went to grab his nose, which was now crooked and bloody. Without wasting any time, she ran.
“You bitch!” she heard him call after her. “You fucking bitch!”
She didn’t look back. She couldn’t if she wanted to. Her lungs were burning, and she took no time to enjoy the scenery on her way back. She was pure adrenaline.
Ava entered the temple, sweat drenched and shaking. She quickly ran to an empty corridor, which she paced back and forth down; stalwartly avoiding everyone should could. Her flight instinct didn’t wear off until the early evening, when the sky began darkening. When she was able to process what had happened, and what could have happened, she broke down sobbing.
---------
Damalia clutched her dusty scrolls to her chest as she began the long journey home. She stared down at her left hand. It was still tingling where the young maiden had touched her.
When was the last time she’d been touched like that? She nearly couldn’t remember.
Excitement bloomed in her chest. What story would she pick next? They obviously had to finish their current one first, but Ava seemed to enjoy romantic and action filled elements. Maybe The Journey of the Alchemist, or Icari’s Travels. Yes, those would be perfect for her.
The excitement and lightness in Ava’s voice still rang through her ears. She had caused that. She had brought that happiness to her. Maybe introducing herself to the young woman hadn’t been a mistake after all.
The following night, Damalia waited patiently behind her opaque curtain in the inner sanctum, anticipating Ava's sweet voice. Instead, she was met with loud sniffles and heavy footsteps.
Damalia’s smile quickly dampened into a frown. “Ava?” she whispered.
“Ye-yes,” a feminine voice hiccuped. “I’m here.” The blonde's usual sunshine voice warbled uneasily. It made Damalia's heart feel like ice.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she questioned.
“I--,” the blonde stifled a small sob. “It’s nothing. I’m overreacting.”
“Please don’t lie to me,” Damalia replied in a serious tone. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“Really, it’s nothing," Ava inisted.
Damalia grimaced as protective anger flared in her chest. “I doubt that. Is it Kalliope? Did she do something?”
Ava shook her head, giving a light whimper. “It’s just some of the men in the village.”
Damalia’s anger quickly bubbled into rage. “What have they done?” she hissed, hands balling into fists.
Ava sighed before recounting her story, sparing no detail. “And I just ran,” she concluded with a sob. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
Damalia’s expression had gone dark, not that Ava could see it. “What did this man look like? Do you remember his name?”
Ava rubbed her tearstained eyes. “I can’t be sure, but I think his friends called him Micah. Oh Damalia, he was horrible looking!” she shuddered. “Huge and hairy and dirty. It was awful!"
"I'm sure he won't bother you again," she replied, voice deadly.
Ava immediately realized the sentiment behind her words. “Oh, please don’t go after him,” she begged. “I know that you’re stronger than me, but he would just injure you too.”
“How do you know I’m stronger than you?”
“When our backs are pressed against each other, I can feel your muscles moving when you laugh. Also,” the young maiden added, “your hands are much larger than mine.”
“That’s true,” Damalia conceded, knowing that she was very tall for a woman. “But that’s not a huge accomplishment. You’re one of the tiniest women I’ve ever seen.”
“I know,” Ava sighed. “I’m weak.”
“No," Damalia insisted. "You’re fierce. Your size just makes you even more endearing.”
Ava’s cheeks went pink at the compliment; it made her feel bold. “I… I think I would really appreciate a gentle touch tonight.”
After a moment's hesitation, a pale hand appeared through the curtain. Ava stared at the long fingers, well kept nails, delicate knuckles, and smooth skin before taking it in her own.
The maiden’s muscles relaxed for the first time that day. The gesture made her feel cared for and protected. “This... this is nice. Thank you.”
“Don't mention it,” Damalia replied casually.
They sat together in silence for sometime. No stories were read that night. The company alone was enough to sooth her frayed nerves.
-
Ava stayed in bed the following day, telling the other maidens that she’d fallen ill. She needed some time to process on her own and had no desire to make small talk.
Due to her solitude, she missed the news that a man in town had been brutally murdered.
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