Clean Again

WARNING TW

"Take her to get cleaned up," The man directs, attempting to hand me over to his friend once more. Yet, instinctively, my grip on him tightens.

"It's okay, he is my most trusted ally," He whispers into my ear, acknowledging my resistance. "I have some matters to attend to; he'll keep you safe until I return."

Reluctantly, I allow his friend to take me into his arms. As we start to separate, I latch onto his arm, panic seizing me. He glances down at our entwined hands then back up to my face, offering me a nod of reassurance. With that, I release my grip. The moment our contact is severed, I feel a surge of panic threatening to swallow me. As we move further apart, my panic intensifies. I look back one last time, catching sight of Fleya rushing towards him and flinging herself into his arms. Suddenly, everything falls into place.

I glance at the man carrying me, opening my mouth to ask him to confirm my suspicions, but a wave of fear forces me to remain silent.  

My sight of the world outside is abruptly severed as we plunge into the expansive confines of a tent. Its interiors resonate with a solemn air of authority, like an unspoken decree echoing through the air. It is the warlord's sanctuary, a hub of strategy and solace, masterfully hidden in plain sight.

My gaze is captivated by a large table ensconced in the corner, its surface embroiled in an orchestrated chaos. Maps of unknown lands are sprawled out, teeming with hand-drawn paths, marked territories, and cryptic symbols. Crumpled pieces of parchment, half-consumed plates of food, and an assortment of quills rest haphazardly, contributing to the mess that, in some strange way, felt organized. A testament to hours of meticulous planning and strategy.

Adjacent to the table, a tall, intricately woven divider draws my curiosity, its rich tapestry imbued with intricate patterns hinting at stories untold. Its presence stirs a desire to peek beyond, but my attention is yanked towards the mammoth structure we're rapidly approaching, a bed.

Upon reaching, he gingerly places me on the massive bed. It is a construct of unparalleled luxury, larger than any bed I've encountered, exuding an aura of regality and comfort. The moment I touch its plush softness, a wave of unease washes over me. After a long, grueling span of eleven years of enduring unyielding floors and threadbare blankets, the sensation of such lavish comfort seems alien, almost a sacrilege.

As the man withdraws, leaving me in the comforting embrace of the bed, I seize the fleeting moment of solitude. With a swift move, I push off the bed, the coarse soles of my feet finding solace in the familiar hardness of the ground.

"Sit back down, I need to remove the chains from your ankles," e instructs, not once swiveling to face me. His uncanny awareness of my movements, even with his back turned, puzzles me..

Obediently,  I clamber back onto the plush bed, settling myself into the same spot he'd originally deposited me. The man returns now clutching two slender metal rods and a bag of what I presume is food. Underneath the shroud of his inky garb, his features remain an enigma, with only the faint glint of his piercing eyes rendering him tangible.

"Its beef jerky, I suspect you haven't eaten for a while," He begins, extending the bag towards me. "It's all we have for now; you'll have to wait until we go back outside for a proper meal."

I inspect the odd-looking food, lifting it to my nose for a quick sniff. A low chuckle reverberates from the man before me, his head shaking in amusement at my reaction. He then retrieves my ankles, commencing his work on the cold, iron cuffs while I delve back into my gastronomic adventure. I inhale its scent once more, bring it to my lips, and give it a tentative lick. My face scrunches at the unfamiliar flavors.

The jerky, once more, travels to my lips, earning an apprehensive lick. A myriad of flavors assail my senses, my face scrunching at the novel experience. Deciding to brave the unknown, I bite down on the tip, my efforts met with stubborn resistance. With a firmer grip and a forceful tug, I finally manage to shear off a piece. The victory is short-lived, however, as the sudden force sends a portion down my throat, evoking a coughing fit. I find myself praying to the unseen gods to not permit my demise by choking, not after enduring years in that infernal prison.

An eruption of laughter interrupts my near-death experience, shifting my gaze downwards, I see him grinning up at me, a freed pair of cuffs in his grasp. The magic of lock-picking, I suppose. With his mask and hood now discarded, I finally get a clear glimpse of his face.

"The bath is prepared, available at your convenience," he announces, rising to his full height and dusting off his trousers. "I ensured the water is warm; no soul enjoys an icy bath."

He lingers in anticipation of a response. I find myself, however, engrossed in studying him. He possesses an undeniable charm, although not quite rivaling the allure of the first man, and also distinctly shorter in stature.

"Quite the mute, aren't you?" He tousles his disheveled blond hair, a note of vexation creeping into his voice, though his obsidian eyes dance with amusement. "Let's freshen you up, shall we?"

"I shall oversee from here," A familiar voice interjects, as the imposing figure from earlier strides into the tent, forestalling the blond man's advance.

"My Lord, there are graver issues requiring your attention," The blond one protests, maintaining his stance defiantly. "Managing one damsel is within my capabilities."

"This girl is Fleya's savior," The man interjects, drawing a look of astounded surprise from the blond. "She is to be granted anything she wants."

"Yes, sir," His head dipping in respectful acknowledgement. Turning towards me, he echoes the gesture, his voice sincere as he proclaims, "Thank you for protecting our princess."

'Princess?' The term triggers an avalanche of questions, each eager to tumble from my lips, yet my voice stubbornly remains a ghost.

As my unexpected benefactor lowers himself before me, his striking features mere inches from mine, he extends a hand towards my face. Despite the instinctive flutter of unease, I find myself irresistibly drawn towards his touch, my cheek nestling against his palm. After double-checking his cloak's enveloping hold over me, he effortlessly gathers me into his arms, escorting me behind the privacy of the divider.

A wooden tub, filled with steaming water, awaits us in this secluded space. Its surface shimmers with an aromatic infusion that paints an olfactory portrait of elegance and femininity, seducing my senses as we draw closer. Upon reaching the tub, he halts, gingerly placing me on my feet while his gaze stays riveted on my face, hidden beneath the generous folds of his cloak. Assuring my footing is stable, he gingerly draws back the hood, finally unveiling my visage.

"You deserve some privacy. I'll stay on the other side of the divider," he reassures me, his hand lingering affectionately on my cheek, grey eyes locked onto mine. I attempt to articulate my thoughts, my lips parting and closing futilely in the face of a disobedient tongue. Perceiving my struggle, he responds with a comforting smile, steering me to face the inviting warmth of the bath.

"I won't stray so far that you can't hear me," He murmurs, his hands kneading comforting circles onto my cloaked shoulders. "Merely tap the side of the tub, and I shall be at your service."

Nodding, I am assuaged by the proximity of his presence. As I signal my agreement, I perceive his retreat. A swift backward glance confirms his withdrawal before I begin the process of disrobing. An exhale of relief slips past my lips as I gingerly lower my weary body into the soothing embrace of the warm water. The memory of my last bath such as this is lost to the recesses of time. Watching the pristine water morph into a murky brown, a wave of relief washes over me, symbolizing the literal cleansing of my past. My eyelids slide shut, allowing myself the luxury of relaxation in the comforting warmth, a privilege that has been estranged from me for far too long.