Antebellum

[Ariadne Fyrian]

The late afternoon found Fyrian submerged within the cleansing waters of a bath. Though her body appeared relaxed and fluid, her mind was still reeling from the events earlier in the day; the warning from the Northern giants, Draxus and his bid for dictator, and the return of Parsideon Denix.

It was the last that caused the most amount of turmoil in her thoughts. She had seen the look he gave her... she would have had to be blind not to.

She was not so worried as to believe that his arrival would in any way alter her status, but it still remained to be seen how he would conduct himself.

Moving to the tiled edge, the Glaucan broke the surface of the water slowly, lifting an arm up and out to reach for the glass of wine she had brought with her.

[Csephion Draxus]

"Pascias, copy these documents."

Draxus pushed a half dozen scrolls into his ever-present servant's hands.

"When are they needed?"

"Within the hour" Draxus continued to walk toward the baths as the slave kept pace alongside. "We don't have much time and there's need to be very persuasive to certain people. Where is Denix?"

Pascias didn't miss a beat. "Asleep. He is washed, and his wounds have been tended to. Should I place a setting for him at dinner?"

"Do so. Tales of sanguine exploit and violence are good for the palate. Stimulating conversation."

He paused with a knowing smile.

"And I have uses for him later. Which reminds me, his wife, what is her name?"

"Parsea."

"Send her five hundred aquilae, and a gift of your choice. Whatever you think best for a middle class family. Something useful but not humble, but neither ostentatious."

Pascias's mind was a steel trap.

"Of course. And what of Vatis?"

Draxus paused.

"Who? Oh..."

He waved it off dismissively as he continued walking.

"Am I to keep track of all of my minions' lovers?"

"Minions, domus? Perhaps brusque?"

"Facetious, Pascias. I would rather not impose."

At last they were at the baths.

"Ariadne, you would think us as swine to take to bathing with such practised dedication."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

With her back to him, Ariadne allowed herself a small amount of time to savor her drink. Ever so slowly, the Glaucan lowered it down once more before turning to face the Satrap. She leaned against the walls of the bath, her eyes going up to give him a look of feigned chastisement.

"It is either here or in the sea herself. I choose here. Perhaps you would rather find yourself a woman of your own kind who is not so drawn to the waters?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"I find women, of any kind, share your particular affliction. One then asks if it is best to suffer the peculiarity or not."

He smiled and nodded to a nearby slave to bring her a towel.

"While you have been in your watery repose, I've had a rather productive afternoon. Currying favors can only get so far, I think I shall dabble in open bribery before this matter is settled."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She watched the slave move away for a towel, and with grace only born from the water, Ariadne moved to the stair that would bring her out. She ascended each step with ease, and reaching up, the Glaucan pulled her hair to one side.

"And I find," far from malicious, her tone was instead one of mirth, "... that I must ask myself if it is best to suffer your penchant for conquest."

Drops fell from her body as she made her way to Draxus, and as the slave returned, she graciously took the towel he offered, drying her arms and upper body before wrapping it around her waist.

"Bribery?" she nodded as the same slave handed her the wine she had left on the periphery of the bath, and with an odd look, offered the remaining drink to Draxus.

"Do you not have enough faith in those below you that you resort to coercion?"

[Csephion Draxus]

"My own faction is behind me. Courting Varo's people takes special measures, especially in the light of the urgency this vote demands."

He politely declined to chastise her political naivete, and accepted her wine.

"Better this than to spend the month roiled in indecision. While we speak, our armies move to the southlands. If we must contend again with the Jarnvid and beyond, we can't afford the luxury."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Ariadne watched him for a few moments more before giving the bath one last final look. Not quite forlorn, but not particularly elated either, her features fell into the neutral setting that the Satrap had no doubt become accustomed to seeing her wear.

"I wish you success in your endeavors then; I would be just as happy to leave that to you. I've not the stomach nor the mind to worry myself with political niceties."

A sweet smile, and she moved to step past him.

"I only pray to Denetion that you do not forget me when you've become the great head of your nation."

[Csephion Draxus]

"How could I ever do such a thing?"

He smiled behind an upturned wine glass as he took a drink.

"You seem resigned to my destiny as a figurehead I am determined not to be. After all, my petition for Dictator lasts only as far as the crisis dictates."

He pondered his thoughts as he swirled the wine about.

"If your stomach isn't for politics this evening, perhaps I can serve a lighter dish?

You should avail yourself to Parsideon Denix and become a friend to him."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"Not resigned, simply trying to be as forward thinking as possible."

At his mention of Denix, the Glaucan gave a pained frown.

"I doubt that he would particularly enjoy that. The last time that I saw him... "

She paused as if in thought, then reached out to liberate her glass of wine from his hand.

"... I stabbed him."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus arched an eyebrow at this news.

"That you're still alive is evidence enough that I believe you will be successful.

He is a trusted subordinate of many years, and I need both of you to become amicable."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"Well to be fair, he shot me in the back... " she gave a slight wince, "... and in my leg."

Wine still in one hand, she absently reached up with her free hand to wipe away at some unseen speck of dust on the fabric draped over his shoulder. So accustomed to his fastidious habits had she become that even she herself began to exhibit the same.

"But, I will do as you ask."

[Csephion Draxus]

"Very good then."

He smiled genially and turned and looked to Pascias.

"By orders of magnitude I envy you. I myself can only delegate so much flattery, and I fear I may have to get creative with my corruptions."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

It was a strange thing, that she had become so comfortable in such surroundings, yet it seemed that Pascias' presence still had a way of unnerving her. It was something that Ariadne had been able to largely suppress the more time went on, but it was a feeling that still persisted none-the-less.

She certainly did not ignore Draxus' most favoured slave, but she also did not actively seek him out for conversation.

Still though, the Glaucan was determined to be at the very least pleasant with the man. She cast a look to him.

"You should offer to trade places," she spoke lightly, with a hint of amusement.

[Csephion Draxus]

"With candor, Domina, I speak poorly in crowds. It would be a poor substitute, all matter of intellect notwithstanding."

Pascias smiled, and shrank away from the two, departing with the documents he was given.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Ariadne watched Pascias for only a moment as he moved away before turning her attentions once more to Draxus. As they entered his bedchambers, she moved to a small chest of drawers. Choosing her clothing was never as particular as when the Satrap chose his, and she found herself enjoying that fact.

Her mind was still on Pascias' answer however, or rather one word in particular. Domina. She was unable to pinpoint exactly when he'd begun to use it.

She pulled a gown from one of the drawers to lay upon the bed.

"I never know how to feel when he calls me that."

[Csephion Draxus]

"Should he not, then?"

Draxus casually queried her as a pair of slaves fussed over changing his own garment into a fresher one with sharper creases. It wouldn't do to appear somewhat shabby by midday, and he needed to look as stoic as he intended to sound.

"I'll make sure to tell him not to."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She watched for a few minutes as the Satrap's slaves went about redressing their master, and with steady movements the Glaucan lowered herself to sit on the bed. Her expression light, she still found it amusing to simply observe his fretting over outward presentations.

It seemed to always make her smile, and Ariadne momentarily forgot the matter of her own apparel.

"I am not your wife," she answered finally, "... he need not bother himself with using such words."

[Csephion Draxus]

"You're not my wife, but you are still his better."

The Satrap straightened his shoulders as his garment was fitted.

"Pascias knows how to conduct himself in society. No need to worry about his feelings on the issue."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She had nothing to say to that, and simply settled for pulling absently at the gown that'd been laid out for her. A slight frown, as the Glaucan wondered if truly, such clothing was proper for her to wear while dining with Denix, and not instead her normal leathers.

And the more she thought on the matter, the more she was convinced that yes, her leathers would probably be more appropriate.

A sigh, and she tossed the garment away.

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus gave Ariadne a quizzical look as she fussed over her own choices in garment.

"Planning to interrupt dinner to pillage an island village?"

He could read her concerns that were as of yet unsaid.

"I don't anticipate combat being on the menu tonight."