Stranger in a Strange Land. [Balian.]

[Cosette Moreau.]

It was shaping up to be a strange sort of night. The girl had been briefed on tonight’s events alongside a gaggle of the other girls whom spent their days within the bordello which Cosette likewise occupied. They were to attend a party of sorts. Something which Cosette didn’t exactly mind, after all, she was a woman, and as such she enjoyed simply enjoying herself over a cup of wine, and holding proper conversation with others she’d never met before.

It was definitely a welcomed change from the average night, spent senselessly within one man’s bedroom, or simply lounging within the Brothel. It wasn’t as if the women within such were poor conversationalist, it’s just the simple fact that Cosette was always looking for more than what had been handed to her.

Some day the girl intended to work off her debts - Debts she was uncertain as to where she’d exactly earned them - though when that day cam Cosette had every intention to get out of Camelot. To explore, and see the places she’d read of, seen pictures of, though never even had a hint of a chance to see for herself. Though, perhaps tonight would be a drop in the bucket towards that cause, perhaps she’d earn a good fistful of coin. Though Cosette truly didn’t know. She was inexperienced in this category, as more oft than not customers paid for higher end courtesans when it came to matters of public appearance.

Either way, Cosette didn’t mind, it was another chance to get out of the brothel, and another chance to mingle with unknown characters - people with more life experience than she.

Cosette was looking forward to the night’s event, and it was more than evident by the smile growing wide upon her soft pout. Despite the seemingly packed state of the carriage she was tucked within, and the ceaseless babble of the women whom were accompanying herself. Cosette was almost amazed by the girls; speaking of men, though they’d never had one themselves, when in all actuality it was perhaps the exact opposite. Cosette didn’t blame them, though, the sex aside, these girls were much the same as she, some day they, too, wished to feel the pangs of love, and she suspected they viewed this as another opportunity to find such.

Though a relationship with a prostitute would undoubtedly be a difficult one, and not something many men would be willing to endure.

Though Love was perhaps the last thing upon Miss Moreau’s mind, as that carriage rattles to a steady halt. How far had they come? What part of town were they within? Perhaps she should have been paying more attention instead of day dreaming listlessly as she had been for the past some odd moments. And, still, she was but only a woman, and every now and then, she, too, was subject to those girlish desires which every woman was prone to.

“Aren’t you enthused, Cosette?” a girl asks; dark, and mysterious, and all legs. At least that’s what Cosette had noticed of her, though it was something which many wouldn’t notice, at least whilst she was clothed. Cosette, however, had been blessed with the chance at seeing her nude, as she had many of the other women currently pressed upon her sides. It tended to happen when there was a roomful of women who were perhaps a little too comfortable with their bodies. Miss Moreau didn’t seem to mind, though, more oft than not it reminded her of France. Or at least, what she’d heard of France.

Cosette’s shoulders lift, then, “I am,” she reasons with a loll to her head, “Though for different reasons than yourself, Bianca,” Cosette’s dark brows lift upwards, then, and she offers a friendly smile toward the woman whom only gives a roll to her own dark eyes.

“Perhaps you should stop thinking yourself so high and mighty, because you fancy yourself some sort of scholar,” Bianca points out. Though soon enough the girl was lifting from her seat, and exiting the now motionless carriage. Cosette seeks to meet eye contact with any of the others, “I hadn’t meant it in such a manner,” Cosette defends, though no one else seemed to mind much.

Her chest heaves before she, likewise rises from her seat to hop outwards. She slips, if only a slight, having not expected the feel of sand beneath the soles of her own shoes. Her brows knit, though she makes no mention of such, nor does she question it.

It was loud within the domus, with the sound of half-drunken men, barking with laughter, and playful sort of fights alike. Cosette hadn’t expected that, but then again, not much had been said of where they were going, save for that it was a party, of sorts, hosted by a foreign man. Perhaps this was how it was done within his home land. For once, Cosette was completely oblivious to the current goings on.

Though the half nude men seemed to be more enthused by their arrival. The other women seemed more than enthused by this warm greeting, though Cosette remains wary of all this raucous behavior. Still, she helped herself to a cup of wine which was practically being forced upon her within those moments. She hadn’t quite expected such, though it was more than welcomed within those moments, she felt both overwhelmed and stifled by the noise pressing upon her from all sides.

Cosette was more use to intimate affairs, more oft than not between two people, one of whom was herself. As such, Cosette found this as quite the shock to the system. Quietly Miss Moreau sneaks back, and away from the other girls to press the line of her spine upon the brick work beneath. Cosette allows her light eyes to slip shut, and that glass to lift towards her mouth.

Perhaps a few drinks would do her good.

[Balian of Tiberium]

There had been a lot of speculation the moment Augustus Aurelius had told the men that he had a surprise for them. He had even demanded them to bathe and make themselves look presentable. Such a thing had been somewhat of a shock to say the very least but Demetrios seemed eager enough alongside the other men. In fact, he had sung loudly whilst he scrubbed himself raw and oiled himself thereafter. That, and Demetrios even dressed his long, dark tresses within a myriad of braids and presented himself within a loincloth of a fine cambric.

It seemed that everyone was of the same state of mind of what the surprise was.

It would be women or so they thought.

"What do you think, Balian?" Demetrios questioned of Balian with a broad grin that showed the whites of his teeth. He stood before the smaller man and presented himself with very little shame. Balian looked him over and nodded appreciatively.

"You look well, my friend. Just be certain not to frighten them," Balian told him but Demetrios laughed and flapped a dismissive hand at Balian. "When will you ready yourself...?" Demetrios dared to ask of his companion. Balian, though, shook his head. "Soon enough." Balian told himself simply. Demetrios seemed displeased with that. Truth be told, Balian rarely took part of the sexual congress that Augustus Aurelius rewarded them with from time to time. It simply wasn't something that interested Balian normally.

Although that's not to say Balian didn't like women.

Balian was rather fond of them and had had a few throughout the years. Yet, the extent of that had only been sexual congress and nothing more. The other men, though, spoke of much more. It's more for the fact that they had had lives before becoming enslaved.

Demetrios himself had been a Thracian soldier who had a wife before he had been captured. He had been young then though and still an able bodied man even to now. Drustan though had been a gaul from the far north. Balian knew very little of him personally but he had heard that the man had children. Whether they survived the warfare and bloodshed, though, was another question altogether. Then there were the others who were a various lot. As for Balian himself though...

He was different.

He had been a child before he had been taken from his mother's breast. That, and Balian knew nothing else beyond the memories of his children within Augustus' domus. He had lived there, grown there and had learned there. He had been Augustus' son to an extent. Yet, still a slaveboy who had been meant to become his best fighter yet. Truth be told, Balian had become that with ease. Nonetheless, Balian couldn't miss what he rarely had.

He couldn't want for freedom for he never had such.

"You should hurry, Balian...ah!" Demetrios barked and laughed when Drustan had begun to shout at the top of his lungs that the casks of wine were open finally. "Hurry then, Balian. We'll be drinking. You should join us!" He told his companion with a toothy grin. Then within moments the six-foot-five Demetrios sauntered on out of his room and stooped his head to avoid the low doorway.

Balian was left alone.

He should venture out there as well.

The casks were already flowing by the time Balian had left his room. It had been after he had scrubbed himself clean and groomed himself thoroughly. Balian, though, chose a simple blue woolen tunic over the loincloth the other men were choosing to sport to show off their wares; after all, Balian wasn't exactly looking for much of anything. He'd drink and mingle, and afterward would retire for the next day and mayhap speak with Augustus about the possibility of allowing the O'Floinn's to study there and open the domus to foreigners for coin. Which in turn may make them freed men.

Demetrios was well and drunk by the time Balian had arrived though. In fact, he was singing loudly and clapping the other men on the back as they talked about the dainty, pretty women of Camelot. They had already seen a few by then too who had come to view the opening of the domus. Now, though, they were arrived to have the women of this land. It sent a flurry of excitement through them all and even more so when the servants presented the women to the gathered half-naked men.

They stared at the women that were perfumed and painted, and dressed perfectly for the night. Some men already ached and throbbed with arousal. Demetrios himself was sweating and licked his lips as he looked from one to the other. Balian, though, nursed his cup and watched, and truth be told, found the women rather attractive. Especially one...

Then his vision was blocked by Demetrios.

Demetrios sauntered forth with a roar of laughter when one woman sought to gather a cup of wine and simply nurse such. She was caught up within his arms and tossed well over his shoulder as he loudly proclaimed that she was his.

"Mine!" He barked. "I've found mine!" He stated loudly and the other men laughed. In fact, they smiled too. At least for a moment before they had begun to mingle amongst the women to grope, fondle and flirt with. As for Demetrios...well, he carried her without shame, but to Balian to show off his prize as he dumped her unceremoniously onto a table that had been used to dice and gamble upon. It was where Balian had been sitting.

It nearly made his cup tumble over.

"Demetrios, my friend! You look a bit loose," Balian murmured, but Demetrios grinned as he gripped the woman by the chin and turned her face toward Balian. Balian stared at her for a moment as his breath caught. "I've found myself a flower, Balian!" Demetrios stated.

He grinned but Balian frowned.

[Cosette Moreau.]

Cosette hadn’t expected to be swept up within those moments, let alone tossed over a rather large man‘s shoulder. Certainly not with a new glass of wine within her hands. She finds her hands fumbling, then, and that mug slipping free of her grasp, only for the contents to be dumped upon the table which she’d just retrieved the glass from.

Though all seems to have gone unnoticed, as soon enough the girl was being claimed, and, well, all surrounding seemed to be in support of that decision, between the barbaric men, and the women she housed with, all seemed to be in agreement. All save for Cosette, that was. She seemed to be the only one with a problem with this current situation. The young girl finds a hand lowering, one to brace near the small of this large man’s back, and the other seeking beneath the rise of her backside in some attempts to keep her backside from presenting itself within that moment.

It’s then Cosette caught sight of Bianca, whom, between giggling, and throwing herself upon any man who would be willing to catch her, found time to offer a wicked sort of grin in Cosette’s direction, alongside a flutter to her lashes. Perhaps she believed that Cosette was getting her just desserts for the comment she’d made within the carriage. And perhaps she was right, after all, there was certainly nothing pleasant about her current circumstances.

Soon enough Cosette’s world was tumbling once more, and she found her soft rump colliding with that hard wooden surface below as she was being presented to someone or another. Cosette made no attempts at appearing pleased with this act, her brows set to knit, and her jaw set firmly. Truth was, Miss Moreau was none too sure what she’d expected of the night, especially upon entering. She knew now that there was certainly no way to avoid the physical, and simply talk the night away. She should have known better, though it hadn’t even occurred to her until this very moment, when she was looking wide-eyed from one man toward the other.

That was, until her chin was being caught up, and she was being more properly displayed toward the large man’s friend. There’s no doubt within her mind that this man grasping her features was completely capable of hurting her, whether he actually meant to or not. And that thought alone frightened Cosette, at least somewhat. The young girl couldn’t help the pleading look within her eyes, at least not for a brief moment before she found herself wriggling free of his grasp, backpedaling further onto the table so she may press her shoulders upon the brick wall behind.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, Love,” Cosette attempts to reason, lifting a single small hand upwards to shift the simplistic straps of her dress upwards, and back onto bare shoulders. As though that may remedy the situation.

Truth be told, Cosette preferred to take things slowly. To at least have a name to call out before she found herself between the sheets of some desperate man. Her nose wrinkles, and soon enough Cosette found herself shifting within her seat once more, her legs motioning to tuck beneath her own petite frame, simply folding up upon herself, as if she may simply will herself to disappear.

Still, Cosette does her best to offer up a gracious sort of smile, lips parting to flash the white of her teeth.

“Perhaps I may earn your names first?” she asks of the two then, a hand lifting upwards to thread through her hair where fingertips twirl in a faux flirtatious manner.

[Balian of Tiberium]

Balian had caught sight of her pleading to be free. Her eyes begged for such a thing. Yet, Balian did not exactly feel for her. In fact, Balian was more than certain that she had taken a number of men before; after all, Augustus didn't gather women who didn't know their way around a man. He sought women who were well honed within the arts of sexual congress. So, the fear that filled the woman made Balian feel...well, puzzled to say the very least.

Demetrios, too, look taken aback as she drew away from him.

"Well!" Demetrios huffed out with disappointment and utmost irritation.

"I've never known a woman who would flee from me!" Demetrios added and Balian looked rather amused. "Is that so, near-brother...? I think I've seen quite a few women frightened of you." He added. "Yes, but they never fled[/o] from me." Demetrios told him. It made Balian nearly laugh. Yet, he did smile at the least but hid such before his cup. Yet, soon she spoke and the two of them hadn't expected that. In fact, the both of them gave her a sidelong glance.

"I am Demetrios!" The taller of the two stated. He was muscled and lean. That, and there was no doubt that he was an attractive man albeit a giant amongst men. He stood there with little shame and with his hands upon his own hips. Balian lolled his head to look up at him with a slight smile before he looked to the woman. Demetrios spoke for him as he rounded the table and clapped Balian upon the back roughly.

"This is my near-brother, Balian!" He stated firmly and grinned toothily.

Balian nodded to that.

Yet, Demetrios didn't seem deterred whatsoever. He seemed eager to speak and question her. That, and get along to the rutting he longed for. "What may I call you?" Demetrios questioned with a grin. "You should be a bit more kind, Demetrios." Balian stated with a smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. He looked to the young woman out of the corners of his eyes though. She was undoubtedly attractive.

Demetrios scoffed.

"She's certainly fine!" Demetrios stated and lowered himself onto the bench opposite of Balian; rounding the table once more. He was so near her that he could reach out and grip her ankle. In fact, once he did so, Demetrios practically tugged her over to him and had begun to run his hand roughly along her calf beneath the hem of her skirt. "You've soft and fine skin," Demetrios uttered and looked rather pleased. He even held a toothy smile.

Yet, who could blame him?

Yes, there were pretty and even beautiful women within Tiberium, but she was foreign and exotic, and slender and lithe. She was different from what Demetrios knew. In fact, different from what all of them knew. Even Balian looked on with genuine curiosity of what she may look beneath her clothing, but never once did he reach out and paw at her.

"Do not mind Demetrios," he told her suddenly. "It's been a while."

[Cosette Moreau.]

Cosette offers up an almost coy smile when it becomes apparent that she may have offended this beast of a man. Her shoulders lift and tuck towards her ears alongside that warm curve to her lips. What was there to say within this moment? In all truh, she probably should offer up some sort of an apology for offending the young man, but then again, he was upon the same level as she, was he not? What other reason would a man live within such a horrendous hole, if they were not some sort of hired help?

Odds were, that he wasn’t the one funding Cosette - and all the other girls’ services.

Though it seemed that neither of the two had expected her to speak, and soon they were offering her a curious sort of glance before finally allowing her their names. Demetrios and Balian, the two certainly didn’t hail from Camelot, not with names like that, they didn’t. It made Cosette all the more curious. Where were these men from? What of their lives before Camelot?

Cosette was curious to say the least of things, though what she wondered of, didn’t seem to matter so much when the mention of her flesh had been made. The larger man’s hands were upon her ankle, teasing upon bared flesh beneath the hem of her skirt, and Cosette finds her body arching, if only to rest herself more completely upon the brick beneath her shoulders. Seeking some comfort - if only physical - within this strange sort of situation.

“Cosette,” the girl murmurs then with a slight wrinkle to her nose, though soon enough she was being tugged forth, and practically into Demetrios’ lap, as his fingertips sought upwards and along the slight curves of her legs. Her knees part to accommodate, toes pressing towards either side of the man’s hips, and upon the seemingly rickety wooden bench below.

The truth was, Miss Moreau didn’t so much seem to mind being pawed at, after all, it certainly was a risk that came with her unwanted occupation, and it was certainly easy enough to ignore, at least until it went further than this point. The higher his hands crept the more distracting the act became, “Ah, thank you,” Cosette accepts the compliment easily enough, and even offers up a wide sort of smile as though to accentuate her gratitude for his kind words. Though did her appearance truly matter? Cosette thought not, so long as she was willing to part her thighs and offer herself up eagerly enough. Though Cosette supposed that she used her looks toward her own benefit; using such to get away with murder, so to speak.

“Your hands are so rough!” Cosette breathes, recoiling if only a slight as his hands venture upwards and touch towards the back of her knees; the flesh there rarely touched and overly sensitive. For a moment she felt overwhelmed by the rough and calloused touch of his fingertips. “I am but a delicate flower, you need to learn to be more gentle, lest you break me!” Cosette teases, then, lolling her head to peer over her shoulder and toward the man at her back.

It’s then the small girl leans backwards, her elbows thumping towards the rough surface of that tabletop before her spine is pressing into place, and she finds herself lying more completely across the woodwork. Simply draped across the table. A hand seeks back to take up one of Balian’s own, lifting such so she may peer curiously upon his fingertips and palms alike, “Are your hands much the same?” she asks suddenly, drawing his fingertips to brush the tender swell of her pout upon his fingertips.

“What do you men do here to earn such marks upon your hands?” Cosette questions, her gaze lifting toward Balian’s features.

[Balian of Tiberium]

Cosette.

The woman had offered her name to both of the men and all Balian could do was watch her. Demetrios, though, slurred her name with a toothy grin. "Cosette," he uttered back and looked ready to bury his face within her bosom. In fact, Demetrios practically did that. He leaned forth as hands held fast to her ankles and his face burrowed upon the tops of her breasts. He breathed her deep as her feet touched upon the bench at either side of his hips. Balian, though, was left the sight of her back and the sound of Demetrios breathing deep.

Then Cosette dared to complain and recoiled away.

"I will not break you!" Demetrios stated and looked offended. Balian laughed. "Are you so certain, near-brother...?" Balian dared to ask and lifted a brow. "Yes, I am!" Demetrios stated and clenched his teeth. He forced a smile then and the offense taken looked to have done very little damage. In fact, Demetrios smiled fully then. Balian, though, seemed drawn to his cup of wine and had been drinking deeply for the moment. Distracted, too, until the moment she reached back and her hand was touching his.

Had Demetrios noticed...?

Balian wasn't so certain but he was distracted as Cosette took his hand from his cup. The other, though, held on as Balian watched her lift his hand. She seemed to survey him and search him for any markings. Balian, though, had a myriad of scars from swordsmanship and thensome from hard labor and onward. His knuckles, too, were hard and large from bare-handed fighting.

"I suppose you may say so," Balian uttered then watched as she kissed his fingers.

He shuddered.

"We fight," Balian said and tried to draw his hand away. Demetrios was leaning forward with his chin upon the woman's thigh as he pressed his wine cup against her other leg. "Not much any more." Demetrios stated with a hint of longing. "We are gladiators...we fight in the arena." Demetrios said. "On blood and sand." Balian added and offered a tight smile.

"What of your hands?" Demetrios dared to ask. "I hope they are soft!" He added.

Balian nearly laughed before he lolled his head and looked down on her face.

"They are soft..." Balian said suddenly. After all, she was holding his hand. He met her gaze evenly then flicked his glance to Demetrios' own face who looked almost challengingly to Balian. He lifted his hand from her grasp with a clearing of his throat.

"We are teachers now," Balian told her simply then.

It was hard to explain what they were to another person. Especially someone who knew little about them. Although she could say the same about him. Nonetheless, Balian looked away and gazed down to Demetrios who looked like a man who had staked his claim. He looked like a pleasant cat...a hunting cat at that. One that would easily fight another over his claim. Yet, he looked eager to please, too. In fact, Demetrios even offered her wine! It made Balian smile...at least somewhat.

"Would you like some wine?" He asked and had already begun to stand. It made Balian wonder whether or not he was out himself. Balian offered him his near empty cup albeit not without draining the dregs. He hissed with satisfaction before watching Demetrios off. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You will bed with Demetrios tonight then?" Balian asked suddenly.

As for why...Balian wasn't certain.

[Cosette Moreau.]

A smile bloomed upon Cosette’s soft mouth within that moment. Her warm lips parting and smoothing fond along the ridges of his rough hands; from the tip of his finger and downwards toward the dip and cup of his palm, and then further still, settling warm near the pulse of his wrist. While her mouth lifted away from his flesh, her hand remains in place, her fingertips soothing over the rough and marked back of his hands quietly.

Perhaps Cosette saw nothing wrong with these idle touches. She was a prostitute, after all, and the entirety of her career rested upon those fond, and intimate touches. She was use to them, after all, and perhaps as a result, the girl couldn’t see how this could offend anyone, let alone the beast of the man who’s hands were pawing all along her bared flesh from beneath the hem line of her gown. Still, the girl shifts then, her head lolling to address him more appropriately whilst the giant of a man was occupied with practically nuzzling upon her warm thighs, “Does the thought of my mouth on you make you quiver, Micio?” Cosette asks of Balian then, and there, her voice pitched to a low murmur.

She listened intently though. So the two, and the rest of the men here, were fighters, or so she assumed. And that was certainly something that Cosette failed to grasp. She never had understood the appeal of fighting, perhaps it was because she was a woman, or maybe it was simply because she had never been taught otherwise. Either way, the point eluded her, though she doubted this was the proper place to question such a thing. Heaven knew that she’d offended Demetrios more than enough for the rest of the night.

Her questions would be saved for another time.

Her brows furrow. The boys seemed disappointed by the turn of events that their career took, though once more Cosette didn’t quite understand. One would think being a teacher and scholar would be far more favorable to wasting your days fighting between one another. Perhaps they were poor teachers, or the task was too difficult, though Cosette couldn’t imagine how that was even possible, let alone likely.

Once more the girl kept her questions to herself. She imagined that was expected of her in the first place.

Still, the girl was nigh brimming with curiosity, after all, it was only on visits like these when she came into contact with others. People with different life experiences than her.

Wine, though, was the topic at hand, and the truth was, that Cosette was quite shocked to have been offered such. By this point she was certain that Demetrios was about ready to simply toss her over his shoulder and haul her off toward his bed to have his way with her. Cosette was actually grateful for this offering, after all, he had previously denied her such a simple pleasure. “Please,” she finds herself answering, then, her legs shifting, and knees curling toward her chest to allow the large man room to maneuver from his seat.

And then she was being questioned, and for a moment Cosette feels her breath catch within her chest. Did she feel bad about the possibility of sleeping with Demetrios? Well, maybe in the slightest. The truth was that Cosette found Balian the more attractive of the two, not to mention far less volatile.

The girl rolls over, and onto her stomach, then, her knees brushing upon the lip of that tabletop so she may eye Balian more appropriately. He was handsome, there was no denying that, “It’s certainly a possibility,” she finally comes to confess, “Though he’s not truly the type of man I prefer,” she murmurs thereafter with a crinkle towards the bridge of her nose. Her chest heaves with the softest of sighs, and her head lolls to glance over her shoulder, and toward Demetrios.

“What of you, Micio?” she asks suddenly, “Which are you seeking to lie with?” she hadn’t noticed him before being drug over, though Cosette is pretty sure that he hadn’t been mingling with the women as the others had been. Idly the girl reaches forth to brush her fingertips upon the hemline of his tunic, teasing the fine fabric between thumb and forefinger, those blue eyes of hers seeking upward to peer upon his face once more.

“You’re a fine man,” she compliments suddenly, “Perhaps you have a wife,” she muses thereafter, her hand falling from his tunic, only to press upon the dip of her stomach as she rolls to her back once more.

[Balian of Tiberium]

"I did not know you could have a type within your line of profession," Balian admitted to her. He looked somewhat taken aback by her confession though. Yet, Balian didn't quite understand what she told him; after all, how could a woman who sold her flesh choose that which she wanted...? It didn't add up together. That, and the fact that she had given up that right for her profession.

It simply came with the territory, or so Balian thought.

Nonetheless, Balian settled his gaze upon her own, and his eyes even flitted to the swell of her breasts as she sighed. Then he had looked away hastily, of course; after all, Demetrios had claimed her. That, and Balian didn't want her. So, there was no loss for him there. Although the moment she spoke once more, Balian couldn't help but look back to her and find himself confronted, and rather confused, with the name she had called him by.

"Balian," he corrected her.

Had she missed his name completely...? Micio was no where near his birth name. Then again, Balian wasn't certain what name he truly had when he had been born. That was a different tale altogether though. Nonetheless, her question nearly goes unanswered until suddenly Balian did speak albeit shortly.

"No one," he told her. "I share my bed with no one." He added.

Balian had looked past her to try and find Demetrios. Yet, she had begun to touch upon him, or rather, upon the hemline of his tunic. He wanted to grip her hand roughly and shove her away then. After all, such things were far too frustrating, especially with the fact that Demetrios wanted her and he didn't. He found it hard to look away from her then, though, especially when she spoke to him more directly. Yet, Balian sat there stoic as ever and steadfast without a hint of what he truly thought of.

"I do not," he replied. "We do not have wives." He added as he watched her.

She had rolled over onto her back once more then and Balian managed to tear his gaze away. Where was Demetrios now? Yet, Balian recalled he was alone and took advantage not for himself but for Demetrios. So, Balian spoke hastily, "Demetrios has chosen you and you will lie with him."

As if a slave could command a whore.

It was laughable to even be considered! In fact, even Balian felt somewhat awkward after saying such a thing. He even leaned forward and set his elbows upon the table whilst his hands cupped his face. "You are a strange woman, Cosette," he said suddenly. "Mayhap I should flee to my chamber now before you attempt to ensnare me further," he mused, and as fingers stroked down from his eyes, he peered over them and onto her.

[Cosette Moreau.]

Cosette’s brows knit and the girl looks quite shocked within that moment. While she was well-aware that she was a prostitute, and was owned by someone. Well… That didn’t mean that she didn’t hold her own opinions, or way of being. It simply meant that more often than not Cosette was forced to stifle her own wants and opinions. “Do you truly believe that?” the girl finds herself asking of him, a smile widening upon that warm mouth of hers. The truth was, that she found such a concept amusing. Though to be fair the girl could see how the notion was feasible, “I’m a woman, simply because I’ve been branded as another’s does not mean that I’ve become dumb,” the girl argues with him.

Once more her brows furrow, and the small girl finds yet another grin spreading across the soft swell of her generous pout, “I know well your name,” Cosette argues once more, a single hand lifting to prop beneath her chin, if only for the shortest of moments, “Though Micio suits you,” she breathes out thereafter with a quick and alluring flutter to her long and dark lashes; almost flirtatious and coquettish.

While Cosette found it strange that Balian chose to share his bed with no one, she opted not to say anything. It was puzzling, to say the least of things, though not something which particularly troubled Cosette, after all, some men were much different than others. Though none of the men she was hired to entertain behaved in such a manner. The men she knew simply wished to use her, to touch every fold her body had to offer; to explore and abuse her all too eagerly. Though his next words came as a shock, and soon enough the girl was coming to a realization. The small girl finds herself creeping closer, lifting herself towards hands and knees so her face may draw close to his ear. “Micio,” the girl breathes upon his ear, “Perhaps you find yourself drawn towards the touch of a man?” she asks of him, voice quieted, to keep it a secret if he so wished.

The girl bites to her lower lip, and finds herself rolling towards her back once more, allowing him his own space for once since the two had come into contact with one another. “We shall see,” she finds herself arguing, then, her thin arms folding before her chest with another furrow to those soft brows of hers. Though she said naught more within that moment. It went without saying that Demetrios was already well inebriated. And truth be told, Cosette was uncertain if he would be able to perform within his current state, let alone make it to his chambers.

Her brows lift then as he speaks to her once more. She couldn’t deny that many considered her strange, and on occasion, even Cosette, herself, found herself wondering why she’d turned out in such a manner. Her mother was nothing like her, and while she had no idea who her father was, she couldn’t wholly place the blame on him. Cosette was simply an enigma.

“Ensnare you?” Cosette asks of him suddenly, a soft bout of laughter bubbling forth, a wide grin spreading upon her soft pout, “I’m no siren, Micio!” she assures the young man then. Though perhaps in another life she may have been. After all, Cosette knew well that she was an attractive woman, and the tales she’d heard of sirens all implied that they, too, were beautiful women. Though that sort of talk was simply folly. And Cosette didn’t dwell on it for a moment longer.

“And you surely are no sailor,” she concludes with a knit to her soft brows.

Her blue eyes flutter closed, and those soft hands of hers smooth along the thinly veiled dip of her soft abdomen, cupping just below the warm swell of her breasts. Despite having argued so heatedly over bedding Demetrios, Cosette suddenly ached for the touch of a man; someone who wouldn’t break her as she expected Demetrios to.

“Would it please you if I bedded Demetrios?” she asks of him suddenly, those blue eyes of hers settling upon his own briefly, before dipping closed once more.

[Balian of Tiberium]

Balian had never met someone that was so very frustrating as Cosette. In fact, Balian couldn't even recall a moment such as this one. The moment she opened her mouth and accused him of being a lover of men was the moment Balian had nearly snapped at her. After all, Cosette had a way of managing herself underneath his skin. It was unsavory and unwelcome to Balian.

"No!" He stated firmly to her and narrowed his gaze upon her. He looked unamused and even crossed with her. Yet, who could really blame Balian? He liked women, but simply didn't take to bouts of sexual congress as other men might, and especially more so the orgies that tended to take place amidst men and women within the domus. It wasn't what Balian found attractive himself nor did he want to be apart of within any way, shape or form to say the very least.

"You say you have not become daft but I could see that you have!" He stated more firmly thereafter. He hoped to turn away from him, but Balian had this aching feeling within his stomach that the more he didn't want her led her only to wanting him more. After all, Cosette should have turned away by now instead of continuing to speak to him and even subtly coax him. Just the same way she called him Micio; uttering the name as if such a thing were his birth name.

"You may as well be one!" Balian stated firmly. "The way you bat your lashes and look at me," he added thereafter. Balian was right, of course, or so Balian thought. Nonetheless, Cosette had been claimed by Cosette, and even if Balian had seen her first and wanted her, he wouldn't have claimed her. It simply wasn't the way Balian was nor did he want for a woman this night. After all, Balian was unlike others and could last without the touch of a woman.

"I am not," Balian agreed there.

He certainly was no sailor, but that didn't mean she could not ensnare him. She had him within her clutches and Balian was barely writhing free of her grasp. Yet, he looked down onto her and sighed at the sight of her. Her hands were upon her body and she looked so...well, lovely. There was no doubt to that. She, and most women of Camelot stock, were attractive and beautiful. They were soft and lithe, and undoubtedly never had men such as them.

Then her query...

"It does not matter whether or not I'm pleased," he stated. "You will please Demetrios and that's that." Balian added and looked away from her. It was then he caught sight of Demetrios. Balian had to wonder what he had taken him so long. Yet, Balian swiftly understood the moment Demetrios stumbled and the three cups he held sloshed wine over the rim and onto the floor. He laughed and continued to step toward them both until he fell heavily to the table and dropped all three cups onto the table; the wine spilling once more and nearly wetting Cosette.

"Ah, my lady...!" Demetrios stated and caught her ankle. "Will you come to bed now?"

[Cosette Moreau.]

Cosette can’t help the smile blooming upon her warm mouth; soft and easy. Amused, to say the least of things. Despite the years she’s spent selling her body to those who would be willing to pay, the girl had never been accused of being a siren of any sorts. Though to be fair she’d been the one who’s put that idea within his mind. Truth be told, she didn’t much mind having been dubbed as such.

It definitely had a certain charm to it.

“You certainly have hands like a sailor!” she observes, then, with another of those widening grins, that seems to never leave her features. For a brief and fleeting moment Cosette felt almost compelled to grasp those hard and calloused hands of his and force him to touch her; force him to settle his well worn palmed upon her breasts. Though there’s no doubt within her mind that the man would recoil, draw his hands away, and possibly even strike her. Though in all truth she wasn’t afraid of being struck by him so much as she was being outright denied by him. Sure, he’d been consistently pushing her way throughout the night.

But truth be told she felt all the more possessed to have him. Cosette wasn’t entirely sure why, though. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he’d been playing hard to get, and she’d never had a man who actually bothered to do such before. Or perhaps it was the simple fact that she was genuinely attracted to him. He was a handsome man, after all, quiet, and unlike any other man she’d had. She was curious of him, and longed to see what more he had to offer.

Perhaps some time she’d be lucky enough to find out for herself.

Though Cosette wasn’t about to put money on the ordeal. While she may desire him, he was certainly resisting her own advances with every fiber of his being. Though perhaps he was simply being a good friend toward Demetrios, though most men didn’t behave in such a manner.

Cosette felt the need to question such, and while she was well aware that that certainly wouldn’t be a wise idea, the young woman couldn’t quite help herself, “If Demetrios had not claimed me would you put your hands on me?” she asks of him suddenly, once more her voice hushed, lest Demetrios suddenly appear before them, with wine in hand, as promised. Her brows lift, then, and the girl’s head lolls to press her scalp more firm on the tabletop so she may eye him.

Though soon enough Demetrios was, in fact, making himself well known, with wine spilling upon the floorboard, and barking laughter alike. Cosette purses her soft mouth, yet again displeased with what was seemingly expected of her. She was to bed him and she expected she’d be lucky if he even made it to the bed room, let alone manage to take her. It was an unsavory thought to say the least of things.

Still, the girl balanced herself back upon her elbows, and offered up the best smile she could within that moment, only for her hips to shift and pedal away from the slosh of the wine cups as he slammed them downwards and upon the tabletop, by no means did she wish to dirty her gown. No doubt he’d be all the more eager to undress her if a mess was made; it was simply another excuse.

“Already?” she asks of him, then, her brows lifting, and a hand motioning to gather up the half-empty cup of wine, “I haven’t had a chance to taste the wine!” she begs then, shifting so her spine may press upon the wall once more. Her gaze lolls from Demetrios, and towards Balian, her soft tongue lolling outwards then, only to stroke upwards and along the wooden mug, cleaning the cup, and making quite a show of it in the process. The soft pink muscle stroking upwards almost fondly before flickering against the rim. Looking almost satisfied, the girl finally takes a sip from the liquid.

[Balian of Tiberium]

Cosette was an extremely frustrating woman. In fact, she was unlike any woman he had ever known! She was different from Branowen, too, who was soft and curious, and sought knowledge anywhere she could find it. Cosette was forward and the knowledge she wanted was of Balian himself. Yet, the fact that she was already claimed and the fact that Balian didn't wish to share his bed with anyone had kept him away from her. She made things difficult though and especially moreso when she questioned whether or not he would have claimed her if Demetrios hadn't.

If he thought for too long then she would think that he would want her.

"No!" He had hissed before Demetrios had returned. He looked flustered and flushed, and he looked very well frustrated by her. He didn't understand why she even wanted him! Demetrios was more than pleasing to the eye, or so Balian thought. There were many women who had flocked to him before. So, things shouldn't have been so very different, but she was stubborn and Balian thought that part of the reason she wanted him was because he didn't want her.

Although that may not be the whole truth.

Balian's mind was busy with Branowen and all that had happened since he had arrived within Camelot. Branowen had turned to be his first true friend here and her family was becoming steady allies with those within the domus. Did he feel like he was betraying that friendship? No...well, somewhat. Yet, not entirely. He was still a man and in Tiberium there was no shame with bedding a woman as a man sought to do. So, there would be no issue with that here, but Balian...well, his mind was simply too busy to deal with a woman tonight.

Demetrios groaned and caught Balian's attention.

The man looked nearly upset and rather annoyed with Cosette too. Despite that, Demetrios offered her a cup gently. "Drink then! I do not wish to waste any more of the night than I must. I want to feel you warm my bed already," Demetrios told her none too gently and without any semblance of eloquence. Demetrios watched her then with a shudder as she cleaned her cup with her tongue. Balian, too, shuddered before he started to come to his feet.

"Where are you going near-brother...?" Demetrios asked.

"My room. I'm weary and tomorrow will be a long day," Balian said.

He needed to get away from her and now before he was ensnared.

[Cosette Moreau.]

For the first time tonight, Cosette let her frustration with Balian show through. Her brows furrowed, and a scowl pulled at the corners of her soft mouth. Cosette was becoming, well, utterly angry with Balian. How could he deny her when she was practically throwing herself at the boy? Even moreso when he made the claim that he did, in fact, enjoy the company of women. Or at least that’s what he had said. Though Cosette had begun to believe otherwise, more and more as the night continued onwards.

Cosette simply didn’t understand him. No man who was fond of a woman’s touch had ever denied her before.

Perhaps it was why she was so attracted to him, because he was different than any other man who simply sought to use her to their heart’s content. Though odds were, that wasn’t the only thing that Cosette was attracted to. Sure, his seeming distaste for her was attractive, in a sadistic sort of way, and as any young girl occasionally found themselves doing, she couldn’t help but be drawn to that attitude. Of course, he was physically attractive, too. Though that’s not to say that Demetrios wasn’t. But, well, perhaps he’d been a little too forward. Cosette couldn’t say exactly what was so off-putting about him, or why she’d rather waste her time chasing a man who possibly didn’t even like women.

Women certainly were an enigma, and sometimes even Cosette herself didn’t completely understand her way of thinking.

Soon enough Cosette’s tongue was stroking almost fondly upon the rough surface of that mug before her lips were occupied with the lip of that cup. The wine was, well, it was fine, mediocre at best. Though Cosette wouldn’t have known that by taste alone. She’s fairly certain that the proprietor of this particular space wasn’t exactly willing to spend a ridiculous amount of money on wine that men intended to get drunk on, rather than savor. No matter how much was spent upon the wine, didn’t seem to matter to Cosette, she was no better than these men.

Cosette’s brows lift once more as Balian states his departure, before once more her features pull to an obvious look of displeasure. She didn’t sigh, nor speak out against his leaving, instead the girl simply sets down her now-empty glass, before looking up to the young fighter, “Sleep well, Micio,” The young woman coos, her tongue smoothing upon the lower tier of her pout in order to sweep up any lingering liquid. There was little doubt within her mind that she’d be seeing him later, yet, if only simply to demand answers from him; why didn’t he want her?

With that, Cosette glances over her shoulder to watch him off, before lifting a second cup upwards, and offering such towards Demetrios, “Finish your wine, and we may bed,” the girl demands, before likewise lifting Balian’s own lingering glass, dumping the liquid from such into Demetrios’ own, so it wouldn’t go to waste. Odds are, he’d suit her needs better when fully lost within the haze of the wine.

So, with the glass offered his way, and no intention to sleep with him, Cosette lifts herself from off that table, her dress hiking, and offering a brief sight of warm and sun kissed thighs, before the thin fabric sweeps downwards, and past her knees once again.

[Balian of Tiberium]

Balian left the both of them then and didn't look back as he walked away. His mind was elsewhere and the wine didn't help much. It was why he set his cup down on the nearest table before he sauntered down the hall toward the bedrooms that adjoined one another. Already sounds of coupling filled the air. It was the sound of women groaning and begging for more, and men thumping away without a hitch. They all had wanted this, and as for Balian...well, he could do without. After all, he had other things to worry of.

He had Branowen to think of and Augustus. He had those freedoms to consider...which Augustus hadn't exactly filled the fighters in on yet. Mayhap the women were those freedoms? It was certainly possible. He frowned at that and hoped not. He hoped that their freedoms would be more than the flesh and he longed for true freedom. He longed to be allowed to walk through Camelot of his own accord and see the people.

Maybe that wouldn't happen though.

He resigned himself to that and as he entered his bedroom, Balian lowered himself onto his narrow cot and groaned. He lolled his head to look onto the wall sconce that still burned faintly. He knew that it would be a long night with all the sounds around him. They never exactly helped and Balian was a light sleeper at that. Any sudden sound, and especially the ones he heard now, certainly wouldn't help whatsoever. Yet, Balian tried as he rolled onto his side and lifted his legs to the bed.

____________________________________________________________________

Demetrios had watched Balian leave. He knew that the men would savor the women but Balian was always different. He never exactly threw himself toward women as the other men had. He didn't know why either. That didn't mean he hadn't had one though. He had slept with a woman before and Demetrios had heard the sounds from the man's room before. As for why he didn't indulge more often...well, anyone's assumption would have been as good as Demetrios' own.

He continued to watch as Balian disappeared around the corner until he was offered Cosette's wine. He lolled his head and his grin split his face. He reached for cup and drank deeply. He had little shame and undoubtedly had a high tolerance. Yet, this was strong and proper wine, and the more he drank left him more susceptible to sleep. That, and the fact that Demetrios had been drinking for a long time already and showed signs of a drunkard with his red nose and warm eyes. He hissed with satisfaction as he finished the dregs of Cosette's cup then sought her with his hard, rough hands.

What happened then was a swirl of moments that left the world tumbling all around Demetrios. One moment he had been lifting her from the table and tossing her over his shoulder, and then suddenly he was in his chambers and tossing her onto the bed. Then he had fallen asleep. He had been so heavily intoxicated that the moment he fell onto her and felt her warmth, Demetrios fell off toward sleep with his heavy, thick and warm body crushing her.

[Cosette Moreau.]

Truth be told, Cosette had become a little nervous by this point and time. No one as large as Demetrios had ever approached her in attempts to bed her before, nor had anyone who fought for a living. The notion of either separately was enough to worry her. Though the two combined? She was certain he could break her the way no other man could, without even meaning to, and that’s what worried Cosette the most about him. She supposed if she’d have to she’d take one for the team, and it was certainly beginning to look like she was going to.

Soon enough, her world was swirling yet again, and the young girl found herself carelessly tossed over Demetrios’ shoulder and being toted offwards, and into the large man’s bedroom. Needless to say, it was even less time before she found her spine hitting upon his thin cot, and his body weighing heavily upon her own. The girl’s eyes pinch shut, and she allows for a heavy sort of sigh to pass over the swell of her pout, forcing the breath from her lungs with a slight grunt. Her lips form to a thin line before her teeth pressed downwards upon the lower portion of her pout.

Her brows furrowed, then, and she was surprised to find that things didn’t progress from there. Despite him being wholly drunk, he had seemingly ached for her from the get-go, and pursued her without shame. Still, now, he seemed to be dead weight upon her; asleep or so it seemed, and Cosette certainly didn’t waste any time beneath the weight of his body, as her hands begun bearing down upoin the lift of his shoulders in some attempts to roll him off of her body, and onto his back proper.

She certainly hoped he was a heavy sleeper.

It was a seeming eternity before the girl finally managed to squirm from beneath his weight, and onto the stone floor below. Cosette allows for a grunt, those blue eyes of hers pinching closed before she shifts to her knees, and thereafter towards her feet. Truth be told, she felt a little bad within this moment, though she supposed things would at least be a little like this within the realm of reality. Still, despite the guilt she felt, the girl didn’t linger a moment longer before sauntering from within his bedroom.

What now, though? There’s no doubt within her mind that she’d previously bothered Balian. Though she couldn’t help but be interested in the young man, if only because he seemed so eager to deny her. She was here for the night, anyway, so Cosette didn’t hesitate in seeking out his room. It was that, or she supposed that she could always go back and sleep with Demetrios. Something which made being denied once more pale in comparison.

The bedrooms seemed to be bundled together, and it wasn’t long before Cosette was stepping uninvited within Balian’s bedroom. She felt a fleeting moment of uncertainty, though it was a little late to turn back now, so with a quick glance over her shoulder, Cosette stepped inwards, and to his bed. Perhaps she was a slight forward within that moment, after all, he wanted nothing to do with her, but Cosette felt almost girlish within that moment as her thighs parted, and she soon settled within his lap.

Her brows knit, with a curious sort of tip to her head, and her hands settle toward the lift of her own thighs.

“Micio,” Cosette demands his attention then and there with another knit to her brows. A single hand brushes from upon the fold of her own leg only to brush upwards and upon the curve of his stomach.