My Viking Captor

Tarnished Emerald

    
"We are at our most human state when the simple power of choice dissipates, and we realize we possess the most minute control in our universe"

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I wake up to the sun dancing across my skin. Its light distorted by the windows green stained glass, painting my skin with splotches of light emerald.  Brides, back home, would wear a gown of emerald on their wedding day; its seen as a sign of good luck and fertility.

I'd always thought it funny my mother had made my wedding dress years ago. She would put aside a few shillings of her pay each week to buy the fabric. I knew it was something we couldn't afford, but she worked every waking moment to make sure on that dayI would have something beautiful to wear. As the years passed by, birthday after birthday, the prospect of someone marrying me became less and less. Until one day, the dress she neatly hung in the closet had been moved to under the bed.  I know she didn't move the dress to spite me, but at some point we both realized there was little worth in daydreaming about the seemingly impossible.

I had become content with the idea of going through life being a stranger to romantic love. At some point it became clear that I would spend the rest of my days by my mothers side; at least, until the day the universe called her home. It was supposed to be a simple life. Maybe it wouldn't have been a life spent with many children and a doting husband, but it would have been good enough for me.

     Warm breath caresses the back of my neck. It presence a blatant  reminder of my current condition. A sigh creeps from my lips, and with a overwhelming sense of vertigo, my-stomach lurches as I spill its meager contents on the wooden floor. I swing my legs off the bed, but I'm stopped by a strong hand yanking my hair back. I let out a shrill yelp as the his grasp becomes tighter. " What the fuck is wrong with you? Your rancid vomit ruined my floor" he loudly grunts in my ear. He lets go of my hair and pushes my to the floor before yelling "Clean this shit up". A sopping wet sponge flies across the room landing at my hands that are splayed on the floor. I grab the sponge and begin cleaning the floor on my hands and knees until I hear a chuckle. I glance back quizzically to see a smirk on his face. " Aren't too modest now are we?" he chuckles.

"Huh?"

" I said you aren't too modest now. I mean look at you all bent over with no underclothes on. Your giving me quite the view of your rear and snatch." He scoffed.

Mortified I quickly pulled his short tunic down. " I ... I had no". I stuttered as tears of embarrassment started to well up in my eyes. He quickly interrupts me.

"I always find it funny how girls like you feign such modesty, yet you carry yourself in such a manner. At least I know i can sell you at a better price. I know a few nobles men that would pay anything to get an exotic girl who knows her way around.Have this room cleaned from top to bottom. I'll be back in a few hours, and if you have your wits about you don't try to leave this room. Im not above punishing women remember that."

At this moment the prospect of being a homely spinster far surpassed being sold to a man that would use me solely for his bodily needs. As he swung the door shut my fingers started itch at my skin with, a unfamiliar feeling of digust. I wasn't disgusted by who I was, but rather the idea of who I'd be forced to become.