Scraps

He raised a brow as she suddenly began to laugh, a smile forming awkwardly on her lips. He waited a moment as she giggled some more, a smile twitching at his own lips. It seemed reality had finally dropped on her. She was no longer a slave, she was a handmaiden, and there was some strict fairness to the Armada.

To the Warlord, the girl was already young, almost a child. Or perhaps there was just something about her that stuck him that way. Admitting that she had been raped when she was very young… it aggravated that possessiveness inside of him again. He didn’t like the feeling. Didn’t want to worry over her, as well. She was to be Deathbelles possession, he did not want her fate to be in his hands.

“Good, I’m glad, because I expect everyone in the Armada to be able to defend themselves.” And it was easier if she came willingly, she would learn faster that way. “And I believe you. Rest up, Iris, and I will see you tomorrow.” he said solemnly, feeling somewhat awkward about the appreciation in her eyes.


"Sirius Fatalis"