The Slave Monologue
He considered everything that had happened in the last few minutes. She acknowledged the queen's viscous humor and intention to keep things as they are. Yet he didn't believe that really mattered to her. Her stated belief that pain didn't matter was a clear expression that and more of her numbness to the horrors she'd been exposed to. He'd told her about his friend and she'd asked the boy's name. His breath caught. He looked at her and said, “Though I have not said his name aloud in all these years in memorium of our friendship. I think he'd understand this situation and approve. His name was Marco and he was nine. He was just a boy from the village and so my grandfather saw only a commoner. I've long since come to scorn that mentality though. For years after I reach my majority I looked for him and never found him. Though with the slave trade being what it is, I suppose that's to be expected.
“I suppose my frustration at what happened to him and my later inability to help him, even after I was grown and had my own funds, is what caused me to do the things I've done. Well, it was a start of it anyway. Then as I began to give shelter to freed slaves I heard their …show more content…
stories. It provoked a rage in me, truth be told. So I took the Revenge and started taking slaver ships at sea and killing the crews. If there were any able seamen among the slaves I turned the ship over to them. If not I towed it back to Roseshire. There, some, I have a new home and a second chance. Others I found a new place in the world for them or gave them a little money to try to go and make their own way. I imagine I will have to be a lot more careful from now on. I don't think I can leave any non-slave witnesses alive anymore. A slave's word has not weight in legal matters you know. The 11 year old daughter of the first mate of a slave ship does. I guess I am just too soft hearted. I could not bring myself to spill the girl's blood.”
He eager and starved need at the food saddened him. He'd tried to reassure her, but it only worked marginally. Then he'd brought her up to his room and began to work the problem over in his mind. Then almost absently he directed her to strip and took a good long hard look at her and felt his heart break. He knew what he had to do. He had to heal her. It was the only thing his conscience would all. He kissed her again to heal the lessor injuries. He then stripped, causally telling her what his healing could do and how long somethings might take.
He was finally bare and standing before her. He asked her then, because she had not moved other then to cover herself, if she didn't want to be healed. That's when she told him she'd rather keep her scars. Then she said it. She really was a virgin. His first impulse was to demand to let him check to verify her word. Then he passed that over for the moment. To give himself a moments thought the reached out and pulled her dress from her hands. He had somethings to explain it seemed.
“Firstly, in private, the privacy of my own rooms at least, I live a nude life and any in my space must do so as well. Generally people have a choice as to whether or not they approach me in my rooms. Unfortunately you will not. I am afraid you will just have to get used to being nude in private situations like this. I believe clothing is an offense against the gods. They are the supreme and ultimate artists and the human form is the crowning achievement of their handiwork. Just as it would be offense to a mortal artist to cover or hide his work, so to I believe it is offensive, perhaps almost sacrilegious to hide their's with clothing. It is as if we are saying “The wonder that you have made we have decided is too shameful and dirty to be seen.” I figure if I were the gods I'd take a great deal of umbridge at that. So in private I chose to follow my conscience. Since I am force to follow common convention in the outside world, I've chosen to enforce my moral code in the privacy of my own rooms.
“Now go sit on the bed. It seems we have a couple things to go over.” He pulled a chair across from her and turned it backwards and straddled it crossing his arms over the back. “This is going to be the first real problem we'll have. You lied to me. I can forgive and let almost anything go but lying to me. Don't ever do it again. I don't care if you think its something I don't want to hear. Always tell me the truth. I assure you, things will be much better for you if you can learn and live this one simple thing. See, for instance, since you've lied to me about this, how am I to know for sure which is the truth? Are you lying now and spoke truth earlier or tell the truth and lying earlier. I am tempted and well might demand to examine you myself and see the truth of it. But that is not here and now.”
“He remembered an earlier question. “No, I am not a wizard. Wizards use magic.” He considered for a long time where to start and decided to begin with something common to him and regular people. “I do not use magic, no. I am not completely human. Where as you need to eat and drink and breath to live. Strictly speaking I do not. Oh, I feel hunger and thirst and the burning need for air like anyone else. But I can't die from it.
“What I do need is a certain kind of energy, aethor that is released in greatest abundance at the moment of climax. The woman gets healing or a little youth or just some time added to the term of her life. I get the aethor, or life energy. It's a win win. Though it does tend to give people the wrong impression of me. Because sometimes I feel my aethor draining or just want to be sure I am carrying more than enough to counter any challenges that may come I have to seek out willing and pleasant ladies to indulge myself with. Now I hope you know this is not a widely known thing about me and in fact most of my family don't even know so much.
“Okay, how does all this work? There are five elements; earth, fire, wind, water and aethor. The first for are material and changeable. Aethor is something else. It is eternal and unchangable. It is spirit or energy or more correctly the force of life itself. Whereas you are built of the four elements and animated by aethor, I am built of aethor and loosely held together by the four element. You are alive. I am life.
“But its like this, what I receive from the encounter is directly related to the intent or amount of personal sacrifice required from my partner.
Now as I said, self sacrifice is only one consideration and not even the most common one. Intent of my partner. Like our young and lovely maid there, if a woman is aware of herself and makes her own choices and chooses to be with me for the fun and companionship, that is a decent charge of aethor. A wife who is infertile and comes to me to open her womb, she is making a personal sacrifice and her intent is for others, her child to come. The aethor I'd receive from her is like a bonfire next to a candle. A woman who comes to me from her own caring and affection of me is still more pure intent and still greater aethor. If that person is a virgin, that much
greater.
“As you are injured, and mutilated, or if you were dying I would instictively want to heal you. If ever you see me comatose from aethor drain, I hope you would be willing to aide in “healing” me. Otherwise I'd either die or sleep for centuries.
“But the bottom line is this, when faced with a choice between death, mutilation and suffering or life. I will always choose life. Regardless of the moral costs to myself. So I will ask you. Why on earth would you want to keep you scars? Why would you want to keep your injuries? Yes, if you actually are a virgin, I can understand a certain apprehension, even fear, but not so great as to want to remain in the condition you are in. Help me to understand this Mary.”
“I suppose my frustration at what happened to him and my later inability to help him, even after I was grown and had my own funds, is what caused me to do the things I've done. Well, it was a start of it anyway. Then as I began to give shelter to freed slaves I heard their …show more content…
stories. It provoked a rage in me, truth be told. So I took the Revenge and started taking slaver ships at sea and killing the crews. If there were any able seamen among the slaves I turned the ship over to them. If not I towed it back to Roseshire. There, some, I have a new home and a second chance. Others I found a new place in the world for them or gave them a little money to try to go and make their own way. I imagine I will have to be a lot more careful from now on. I don't think I can leave any non-slave witnesses alive anymore. A slave's word has not weight in legal matters you know. The 11 year old daughter of the first mate of a slave ship does. I guess I am just too soft hearted. I could not bring myself to spill the girl's blood.”
He eager and starved need at the food saddened him. He'd tried to reassure her, but it only worked marginally. Then he'd brought her up to his room and began to work the problem over in his mind. Then almost absently he directed her to strip and took a good long hard look at her and felt his heart break. He knew what he had to do. He had to heal her. It was the only thing his conscience would all. He kissed her again to heal the lessor injuries. He then stripped, causally telling her what his healing could do and how long somethings might take.
He was finally bare and standing before her. He asked her then, because she had not moved other then to cover herself, if she didn't want to be healed. That's when she told him she'd rather keep her scars. Then she said it. She really was a virgin. His first impulse was to demand to let him check to verify her word. Then he passed that over for the moment. To give himself a moments thought the reached out and pulled her dress from her hands. He had somethings to explain it seemed.
“Firstly, in private, the privacy of my own rooms at least, I live a nude life and any in my space must do so as well. Generally people have a choice as to whether or not they approach me in my rooms. Unfortunately you will not. I am afraid you will just have to get used to being nude in private situations like this. I believe clothing is an offense against the gods. They are the supreme and ultimate artists and the human form is the crowning achievement of their handiwork. Just as it would be offense to a mortal artist to cover or hide his work, so to I believe it is offensive, perhaps almost sacrilegious to hide their's with clothing. It is as if we are saying “The wonder that you have made we have decided is too shameful and dirty to be seen.” I figure if I were the gods I'd take a great deal of umbridge at that. So in private I chose to follow my conscience. Since I am force to follow common convention in the outside world, I've chosen to enforce my moral code in the privacy of my own rooms.
“Now go sit on the bed. It seems we have a couple things to go over.” He pulled a chair across from her and turned it backwards and straddled it crossing his arms over the back. “This is going to be the first real problem we'll have. You lied to me. I can forgive and let almost anything go but lying to me. Don't ever do it again. I don't care if you think its something I don't want to hear. Always tell me the truth. I assure you, things will be much better for you if you can learn and live this one simple thing. See, for instance, since you've lied to me about this, how am I to know for sure which is the truth? Are you lying now and spoke truth earlier or tell the truth and lying earlier. I am tempted and well might demand to examine you myself and see the truth of it. But that is not here and now.”
“He remembered an earlier question. “No, I am not a wizard. Wizards use magic.” He considered for a long time where to start and decided to begin with something common to him and regular people. “I do not use magic, no. I am not completely human. Where as you need to eat and drink and breath to live. Strictly speaking I do not. Oh, I feel hunger and thirst and the burning need for air like anyone else. But I can't die from it.
“What I do need is a certain kind of energy, aethor that is released in greatest abundance at the moment of climax. The woman gets healing or a little youth or just some time added to the term of her life. I get the aethor, or life energy. It's a win win. Though it does tend to give people the wrong impression of me. Because sometimes I feel my aethor draining or just want to be sure I am carrying more than enough to counter any challenges that may come I have to seek out willing and pleasant ladies to indulge myself with. Now I hope you know this is not a widely known thing about me and in fact most of my family don't even know so much.
“Okay, how does all this work? There are five elements; earth, fire, wind, water and aethor. The first for are material and changeable. Aethor is something else. It is eternal and unchangable. It is spirit or energy or more correctly the force of life itself. Whereas you are built of the four elements and animated by aethor, I am built of aethor and loosely held together by the four element. You are alive. I am life.
“But its like this, what I receive from the encounter is directly related to the intent or amount of personal sacrifice required from my partner.
Now as I said, self sacrifice is only one consideration and not even the most common one. Intent of my partner. Like our young and lovely maid there, if a woman is aware of herself and makes her own choices and chooses to be with me for the fun and companionship, that is a decent charge of aethor. A wife who is infertile and comes to me to open her womb, she is making a personal sacrifice and her intent is for others, her child to come. The aethor I'd receive from her is like a bonfire next to a candle. A woman who comes to me from her own caring and affection of me is still more pure intent and still greater aethor. If that person is a virgin, that much
greater.
“As you are injured, and mutilated, or if you were dying I would instictively want to heal you. If ever you see me comatose from aethor drain, I hope you would be willing to aide in “healing” me. Otherwise I'd either die or sleep for centuries.
“But the bottom line is this, when faced with a choice between death, mutilation and suffering or life. I will always choose life. Regardless of the moral costs to myself. So I will ask you. Why on earth would you want to keep you scars? Why would you want to keep your injuries? Yes, if you actually are a virgin, I can understand a certain apprehension, even fear, but not so great as to want to remain in the condition you are in. Help me to understand this Mary.”