A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 9

Melantriche woke startled. For a split second she thought she'd been tumbling from the sky, but now she was caught within the tangles of a fishing net.

...wait, no. It wasn't a net, but a blanket. And there was no fisherman staring down at her, but Lyra. She was fuzzy at first, and not easily seen without the sun to clarify her features. She was inches close to Melantriche's face, studying her with bewilderment and concern in her eyes. It took a moment for Melantriche to process the presence of another person being so close to her, and then she jerked in surprise.

"L-Lyra?"

"You're naked." The woman commented in an as-a-matter-of-fact voice. "You were talking in your sleep, too."

Melantriche blinked. "You watched me as I slept?"

"Only for a little while." Lyra flushed and sat back on the stool she'd set at the edge of the bed. "I was worried, you see."

"What for?"

Lyra stood up and turned away as she went to fetch a new chiton for Melantriche to wear. She said nothing for a brief moment before saying, "No reason."

There was hesitation in her words, Melantriche knew. She ached to get the truth out of her, but not now. It was too early in the morning to prod now. She fell back into the sheets, mumbling nothing in particular. Lyra returned shortly from the back of the room with a long white robe in hand.

"But what about you?" Lyra inquires teasingly. "Hm, Lady? You went to bed without clothes? You know I heard from someone that that handsome Lord Belenis escorted you to your quarters last night."

Melantriche pulled the covers over her shoulders and flushed. "What are you insinuating, Lyra?"

"Oh, nothing." She giggled, gently pulling back the sheets, and out popped Melantriche's red face, scowling. "Forgive me, Lady. I was only teasing."

"Yes, I'm sure." Melantriche grumbled as she crawled out of bed. She stretched and ignored the incoming chill from suddenly being out from underneath warm layers. Mornings in Athens were chilly, especially now that the harvest season was almost over. And now that she was actually processing her surroundings, she saw that it didn't look like morning at all. There was hardly any sun outside, for thick masses of gray cloud were obscuring it. Verily, it looked ready to storm soon. Melantriche stared at the outside through the tiny window. The laundry would most likely not get done today. Lazily, she held up her arms and waited for Lyra to slip the robe around her. With a few twists and pins the robe was magically wrapped into a chiton. Melantriche rubbed her bare arms, but she didn't ask for a wrap, the wraps were too flashy and Melantriche enjoyed being dressed in simple things, so that they wouldn't hinder her weaving. Mother would disapprove, as always, but Melantriche no longer cared to listen to her when it came to what you should wear and what you shouldn't wear. After all, who would be around to appreciate her when dressed in finery? The slaves?

"But, if I may ask, why didn't you put on your nightclothes?"

"I wasn't up to it." Melantriche yawned, "I was tired and it was a long day."

"Oh, I see." Lyra stood up and wiped some sweat from her brow. "But nakedness besides, shall we go down to meet the others?"

Melantriche nodded. Tapestries weren't going to weave themselves.

———

Breakfast was simple: Some freshly baked pita bread dipped in watered wine and honey. In the gynaeceum, everything seemed so mundane yet pleasant. The women of the house, both free and slave, seemed equal here. They gossiped and joked as they spun wool and wove fine cloth as little children ran around squealing with excitement in their games. In the gynaeceum, nothing ever seemed troubling. It was peaceful, simple, and Melantriche liked it that way. Today, however, was different. When Lyra and Melantriche walked through the door, the usual buzz suddenly hushed, as if a great wind had interrupted it the way it interrupted the wheat sheaves in the fields. Everyone in the room, save for most of the children, stared at their young Lady with great anticipation. Whatever it was, Melantriche didn't take kindly to it. She shivered in her chiton as she felt the eyes of many on her. What in the..?
Lyra coughed loudly, and the tension snapped just like that. The women resumed their work and Melantriche could finally breathe easily. Well, almost easily. When she stared up at Lyra, she saw a flash of nervousness in her eyes, which made her all the more suspicious. In a moment she'd ask her what all the hullabaloo was about, but for now she scanned the room, searching for her loom. She found it set leaning against the far wall corner, right beside a clear space on a sofa. Perfect. Melantriche poked Lyra and pointed to the spot.