A tender soul [past + cw]

It had been no more than a couple of months since the master of the house, Ellery, had decided to bring a girl to live with them. At first, his brother, Nathaniel, had been against it as it would be hard to keep their condition a secret from someone living with them. Ellery had promised that it would be no problem; they were twins, as he had explained the girl, but they were never in the house at the same time. Nathaniel had not been fond of the arrangement, but he had no choice. It was Ellery that decided such things.
They had lived there for almost a century now. They did rarely go out, so no one could guess their ability to stay young. No one knew what they looked like, besides their family, the circle of sirens they belonged to and their old friend Nerobel. Therefore, bringing another person into their life seemed risky.

The girl had been with them for some time now. Not long, and surely not long enough for her to be safe in town on her own. Yet, as she had left to venture there herself, Ellery had agreed to give Nathaniel some time in the body, to stretch his legs. It didn’t take long before he felt right back at home, having some time in the stable, grooming his priced horse Belle. A black beauty, enormous to those that wasn’t used to handle such a big creature. Her head was easily the size of a grown man’s torso. He had just finished up in the stables and returned to the hall to retrieve a jacket so that he could take Belle out for a ride, when he heard the voice of the girl call out for his brother. ‘’Zyanya?’’ he asked, as he joined her in the entrance of the rather large estate. ‘’What’s wrong?’’ he asked, his multicolored eyes looking directly at hers. She seemed frightened. He took off his green jacket in a hasty manner and rolled up his sleeves to above his elbows. The matching green vest had been undone as he had been warm working in the stables. The ties keeping the shirt closed on the chest was also undone, leaving the shirt open down to the end of his breastbone; showing off scars and the sparse body hair on his chest. Without asking her permission - a thing Ellery always would do before touching her - he moved her to the side and opened the door. He didn’t close it behind him, as he walked outside, without waiting for her answer.

It had been mere seconds since she had entered the house, leaving the men panting like dogs in heat outside. As Nathaniel had gone through the front door, he had his eyes fixated on the men, clearly ready to protect anyone on his property. He heard Zyanya’s voice, as he pleaded with a calm voice that what was happened was ‘nothing’. Nothing didn’t rip a dress - nothing didn’t follow a lonesome girl home like panting dogs ready to fuck. In pure French, but with a older accent from another part of the country, he spoke with anger in his voice - yet still with such mandate that few dared to oppose him; ‘’You two have precisely fifteen seconds to removed yourself from my property before I make sure none of you will have hands to touch with and dicks to fuck with,’’. There was no doubt about the fact that he tolerated no such actions to be taken at his land, and especially not involving a girl under his protection. He had no problem using force, if it came to the men resisting. His threat wasn’t empty, as most were. ‘’Go back inside, miss,’’ he said. Where Ellery had no problem using her name on the regular, Nathaniel mostly kept the formalities up. The few times he used her name, was when he was in a hurry or in distress. This, however, was him being completely calm and collected, as he made sure she was safe. ‘’And please, fetch my musket,’’ he then asked her, thereby stating that he had the intend of shooting at least one of them if they didn’t leave immediately.
Normally, he wouldn’t even have bothered to protect any servant of theirs. She had gone alone, despite of knowing it wasn’t safe. His brother had been foolish for allowing her to do so; he knew as well as Nathaniel did, that she was an exotic beauty, and that men were pigs. He would have to explain to his brother that she wasn’t allowed to go alone anymore, if she wasn’t able to protect herself. Zyanya wasn’t weak; he knew that. But she was a woman, and not a French lady. No man would respect her, purely because of the color of her skin, how terrible it might sound. At least Nathaniel didn’t care for the skin; as long as she didn’t drain his blood of pure hunger, he couldn’t care less of her skin, race and species. She was a person nonetheless.

Her response made Nathaniel growl in a low pitch, as he kept his eyes on the men. How little they must think of him, to have a colored girl live in the house and not even being a slave. Of course, that was the nature of the community, but still it left a bitter taste in his mouth. She left them, and the men soon decided to leave even though their hunger had not been satiated. He was tense from sheer frustration, as he entered the house again and moved directly to the kitchen; his clothes still undone. The cook - an elderly, short and rather plumb woman with a wrinkled face and small hands - looked at him with a slightly curious gaze. He grabbed a piece of bread and for a moment he just stood there, chewing on the bland paste the bread became in his mouth. ‘’What’s wrong, sir?’’ the cook asked, leaving Nathaniel out of words for a short while. He swallowed hard, before he looked at the elderly cook with a tired gleam in his eyes. ‘’I asked the girl to fetch my musket, and she talked back to me in front of her attackers…’’ he sighed, rubbing his neck. The short hair wasn’t really traditional for a man, but he had always hated the longer hair tickling his neck. ‘’She is a pacifist,’’ the cook answered, taking the bread from his hand with a quick and stubborn motion. ‘’And don’t eat before dinner!’’.
He left the kitchen and moved towards the garden where he had been noticing her retreat whenever she needed it. He didn’t join her, but simply stood in the opening of the big French doors and looked at her. A part of him wanted to apologize to her, but he had done nothing wrong. That she didn’t believe in violence wouldn’t protect her if men decided that she wasn’t worthy of having to ask permission for. ‘’I would need Ellery to talk to her later,’’ he agreed with himself out loud, yet not loud enough for most to hear him. He shook his head slightly, as he then moved back inside and sat down in front of the fireplace that was burning intensely. The night here in the alps would be cold and unrelenting, so they rarely put out the fireplace unless they would be gone for days. He looked into the fire, like it was hypnotizing him; making him leave anything but the sight of dancing flames out of his mind.

Had he asked her to fire the musket, then he would have understood her way of behaving. Since he was born and raised in a world where a man took what he wanted by any means, he couldn’t understand the fact that she wouldn’t condone violence as a mean of protection. Then again, it was her life, and he wasn’t the man to doubt how she did things. Next time he would have to be proactive and bring the musket in the first place - if there ever was a next time. As he had lost track of time, just sitting and watching the fire, he was mildly surprised when one of the servants announced that dinner was ready. Why Ellery insisted on having lavish dinners as this was beyond him. Neither Nathaniel nor Ellery needed human food. They were a cannibalistic species. They needed the flesh of others. However, to uphold a façade of being nothing more than a human, Ellery had decided on eating meat and vegetables. Nathaniel couldn’t refuse, as long as he shared table with Zyanya. She would know that something was wrong then.
He tied his shirt back up, so that he didn’t show his bare chest anymore, and sat down at his usual spot by the end of the table. It was decked with piles of food - food that would be given away to the servants by the end of the evening, when Nathaniel or Ellery wouldn’t have eaten more than the simple bread or some pieces of meat. The servants knew about the agreement, of course. They were bound for life to the estate, making sure they couldn’t leave and spread the word about their former masters being other-worldly.
‘’Good evening, miss,’’ he answered her. His eyes fell upon her for a moment, listening to the so-called apology she presented. ‘’It is not my intention to ask anything of you again,’’ he said, quite calm - yet with some unresolved frustration in his voice. As she moved closer to him and placed her hand on his, he looked at the plate before him instead of looking at her. Being so close to her made him uncomfortable. He was vexed with her, and yet he felt nothing more intense than the feeling of pulling her down on his lap and letting their lips meet. He sighed of her words, moving his hand out of hers.
‘’I need you to understand one thing, miss,’’ he then said, looking directly at her with a stiff gaze. He wasn’t going to admit that he had been rash on the solution of threatening the men that had assaulted her. He had done the necessary. ‘’You live here, because my brother wishes so. You are no slave, because we don’t condone slavery. You dine at our table; you sleep in your own chambers like any other free woman in this country. I will not ask of you to be violent, or to participate in my actions when I protect anyone under my roof, but I will not have you disrespecting me like that again in front of those I try to protect you against.’’ He said. He wasn’t angry or cold; he was vexed with the fact that she had left him out there with words that meant that he had no mandate on the property.
As he realized that he had mentioned his brother, he moved his gaze from her again to return it to the plate in front of him. ‘’My name is Nathaniel, by the way. My brother is away until tomorrow.’’ He announced, before he reached to a piece of bread without awaiting her to return to her seat. She could stand for all he cared.

As she didn’t argue with him on the matter of him protecting her, he deemed it not to be necessary to explain further to her. Instead, he allowed himself to bite down into the piece of bread as she talked. ‘’I am indeed not my brother,’’ he agreed. They brothers couldn’t be more different for each other. Of course, they looked identical, and they reacted similar when in dire situations, but in their everyday life, they were different as night and day.
‘’Close,’’ he said, with a slight crooked smile, as she tried to pronounce his name. ‘’You can call me Nat, if that’s more comfortable for you,’’ he then said, before he took another bite of the bread. For a moment, there was a silence lingering between them; a silence broken by the words of the girl. Nathaniel looked at her, as her question deemed that she knew exactly what he was. The crooked smile appeared once more, as he with a warm and low chuckle shook his head. ‘’You’re thinking of mermaids,’’ he explained, quite calm. ‘’I am, however, no merman, dear Zyanya,’’ he said, as he decided not to be any more hostile to her as she was towards him. If she could accept him for being a brute, he wouldn’t hold it against her that she didn’t care for violence.
‘’Tlanchana,’’ he repeated, butchering the name with his French accent. ‘’I assume that’s one of your goddesses?’’ he guessed, as he poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher closest to him. ‘’I’m afraid I’m not that well-informed regarding your life before you arrived here,’’ he admitted. As she talked about offerings and the goddess spreading her children all over the world, he nodded slightly. ‘’There are indeed quite the few of my kind,’’ he admitted. Knowing that just in the circle his mother was declared leader of consisted of over a thousand sirens would be enough to prove that sirens wasn’t a minority in the waters.
‘’And, since you know what I am… What are you? I take it that you are no human yourself,’’ he said, before he took a sip of his newly-poured water, awaiting her answer.

He chuckled as she tried to pronounce mermaid as well. Fair enough, she wasn’t native to the French tongue; he couldn’t blame her for having a hard time with it. The same seemed to be the case for him; he couldn’t speak her mother-tongue very well either. ‘’I cannot speak of your gods and goddesses, as they are to foreign for me,’’ he admitted, taking another bite of his bread, as she spoke. ‘’But one thing I know; I don’t need to sing to lure people to their death. Sometimes the promise of something more valuable than life itself seems to be enough.’’ He said, quite calm.
‘’A Nagual?’’ he asked, as she chuckled, leaving a brief window of time before she spoke once again. ‘’Oh! You’re a shapeshifter?’’ he asked, quite interested. He himself had only the ability to turn into a siren; shapeshift was another thing entirely. However, it seemed that the conversation was about to go sour, as she mentioned him being born to a life of riches and abundance. He sighed slightly, looking at her with a furrowed brow. ‘’Zyanya, how little do you know of the men you share home with?’’ he asked and placed the bread on his plate. ‘’we weren’t born into this. Our mother was a siren and our father a mason. He carved stone and built houses. We were amongst the poorer population growing up,’’ he said, quite unphased by the fact. ‘’When our father died, our mother returned to her own lands, leaving us behind. Ever since then, Elly and I have been sticking together and working to keep this land as ours… The abundance of food you see here, it isn’t for us. It’s for you, and the servants.’’ He calmly said, before he smiled slightly to her. ‘’And to answer your question… I prefer human flesh over fish.’’.
The conversation had turned sour; they were speaking about times long past that no one wanted to remember. Her fear of her history being forgotten made him shake his head slightly. ‘’I know of the genocide Cortes led on your lands… Humans can be both cruel and idiotic at the same time; destroying one of the greatest civilizations of all time, just to gain a power that holds no meaning to those who lost their home and families,’’ he sighed.

‘’Elly does enjoy the more lavish lifestyle, since he was the one working the hardest to get us here,’’ he said, quite softly. He didn’t care much for it himself. Being called ‘sir’ or ‘master’ felt like he owned slaves instead of servants. It felt wrong. ‘’I prefer to work when I’m here, just to avoid idle doings.’’. He looked at her, as he seemed to have offended the girl by trying to explain that he had heard of the genocide. ‘’I seem to have offended you… My apology.’’ He said, in a pleasant voice. He did not care for being vexed with her any longer than necessary. She had, after all, done nothing wrong.
‘’Some humans only have one way, Zyanya… And that path leads to pain, destruction and death. There’s no excuse there. Cortes sought fame and power and destroyed one of the greatest civilizations ever. To me, that is idiotic and unforgiveable.’’ He exclaimed. ‘’Your empathy is better off on those that deserves it; not white men seeking glory in horrible doings,’’. As she got up, his eyes followed her. Was she ready to retreat to her chambers so soon? Possibly. He must have offended her or made her uncomfortable. The sorrow in her eyes, as she spoke made him turn his head slightly to the side, like a dog that didn’t understand their owner’s feelings. Then, she approached him and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before she spoke again. This time in a tender voice, almost luring him in like his songs did humans. He looked her in the eyes, briefly. ‘’I can’t promise you anything, Zyanya. After all, I’m only here sporadically.’’ He said, slightly apologetic. That was the whole truth, right there. He couldn’t promise anyone anything; he had a limited time in the body at all times… He couldn’t expect to see her again; he could only ask his brother to allow it - and it seemed that for the time being; Ellery was pretty content on having Zyanya to himself.
‘’I’ve never used the phrase ‘good night’. It means other nights will be bad.’’ He said, with a crooked smile. ‘’I prefer to wish sweet dreams and a safe sleep upon those I care for instead,’’ he then said as he got up. Her mother-tongue was intricate; he didn’t understand a single word of it. He wished that he did; but the truth was that he spoke only French, English and German. He was a classical European man at the point; he had not learned foreign languages as well as she had. As she left the room, it was almost as she hesitated. He didn’t have the gall to stop her or plead for her to stay with him a little while longer; she had expressed the desire for returning to her chambers and he wasn’t the one to ask her to change her mind.

The hours went by like had it been days to him. He had returned to his chambers, after helping the servants delegate chores for the next day, as well as making sure they had all eaten and felt alright before the tucked in as well. He was sitting in his pants and the same shirt as he had worn all day. Once again, the shirt was open in the front, now all the way; exposing his chiseled torso with the scars and sparse body hair. He had tried to go to sleep, but the moon kept him away. He wanted to go for a swim, but the lakes near the alps wasn’t safe to swim in at night. Sirens were top predators, but not native to lakes. Animals didn’t understand the risk of intruding, and his instincts rarely kept him from attacking.
Instead, he grabbed the candlestick on the bedside table and left the room. He moved slowly, as to not disturb anyone’s slumber, until he reached Zyanya’s chambers. He knocked on the door; quietly. If she wasn’t awake, he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. ‘’Miss Zyanya…?’’ he asked out loud, in a quiet and soft voice. Perhaps she would join him for a walk in the chilled night-air?

Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have sought her out. He would have stayed in his chambers, waiting for sleep to catch him. But sleep avoided him, as he tried to flee the conversation, they had shared at the dinner table. He was forced to relive it time and time again, as he tried to sleep. That was why he had sought her out; he flees those thoughts. She seemed to have that effect on him; making him forget the things he didn’t wish to remember. He heard her rummage in the room, before the door was opened ever so slightly. In the pale light, he could see her chemise falling beautifully over her curves; curves fit for a woman and not a girl. He wasn’t even sure of her age; nor did he care. She was old enough to deny violence and to kiss him on the cheek without anyone telling her to - then she was old enough to be considered a woman. He could almost sense her heart beating, and for a moment, they just stood there and looked at each other. Her lips parted, as she acknowledged that she was awake indeed, and he smiled ever so slightly. She opened the door a bit more, and there they stood; none of the properly dressed, and both of them with hearts beating loud enough for him to hear them. ‘’I couldn’t sleep,’’ he admitted, as she asked what the matter was. ‘’I feared I might have offended you at dinner, and I wanted to apologize,’’ he then said, lifting up the candlestick ever so slightly, so that their faces were lit up. He briefly felt mesmerized by her beautiful skin; the freckles and the shape of her lips. Her brown eyes and the long dark hair… He should return to his chambers and leave her be; he shouldn’t be standing there, wanting for her to be even less dressed than she already was.

It was clear to him that he had offended her - even if she wouldn’t admit it. The comment, though said in a faint smile, showed him that. ‘’I simply meant that not all men deserve empathy. I’m not even sure if I do,’’.
She invited him in without words. It made him confused at first; a man should not enter a woman’s chambers at night, and certainly not when they were alone. It wouldn’t be wise to accept her nonverbal invitation, and yet he did without hesitation. He watched, as she closed the door behind them, before he turned his eyes to meet hers. She gave his name another go, only for him to chuckle slightly as she seemed to miss some points of the pronunciation. Her question seemed valid enough, even though he hadn’t thought of the meaning behind his name for a long time. ‘’It means ‘Gift of God’,’’ he said, without much feeling put behind the words. He cared not for the god his father had believed in; a god that punished love, compassion and empathy if it wasn’t shown to that god himself deemed worthy. The church had too much power, and the power had simply grown over the years.
As she moved to open the window, he pointed his eyes to the floor, as to not stare at the beautiful woman in front of him. ‘’What does Zyanya mean?’’ he then asked with a faint smile. Since his meant Gift of God, maybe hers meant something equally religious. He had no clue, as he didn’t speak a single word of her mother-tongue. The conversation once more turned gloomy, as she with a childish yet mesmerizing giggle stated that she could only be seen as a whore or a slave. ‘’Well, don’t you find it odd to look at me with little more than pants and a shirt? People here have grown up with those norms; hiding their skin and only showing it to those dear to them - or to those with enough money or power to earn it.’’ He said, as his eyes fell upon the moon outside. It itched in him to return to the waters, but it would have to wait. He had a couple of hours before he would feel parched.
‘’And in this house, you are neither. You are living here, on the same terms as Elly and I.’’ he said, with a crooked smile. ‘’With that said, I think it might be best if you don’t venture into the city alone… I’m not sure I could let someone touch you against your will and then keep their hands afterwards,’’ he admitted. He didn’t want to scare her or make her feel like he was the boss of her; she had stated the obvious - that he wasn’t able of giving her orders. Maybe that was why he found her so intriguing… ‘’Perhaps I should return to my chambers,’’ he then said, looking at her with a crooked smile. ‘’I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space any longer than necessary,’’.

‘’To be honest, my dear; I’m not sure.’’ He said, with a crooked smile. He had been told that he was the dangerous one; the one with no remorse or feelings caught in the net whenever he wanted something done, and yet… He stood there, speaking of the meaning of a name he didn’t care much for. ‘’The only god the priests in this country accepts; the Christian omnipotent man with a white beard, sitting in the heavens and judging all - either allowing them to enter his paradise or to burn in eternal flames.’’ He explained. Perhaps she could sense the resentment he felt towards the idea of such a god - no matter what, he cared not for the church and its god.
‘’Then your name would be very fitting indeed,’’ he then said. ‘’You’ve made an eternal impression with your stubbornness,’’ he chuckled, winking at her. His chuckle died out, as she moved closer and touched his chest. For a moment, he felt how breathing became difficult; like lightning struck in his chest where her finger rested. He wanted to say something witty, but he had to admit to himself that all those sentences he could thing of led to him sounding either horny or too narcissistic. Instead, he exhaled, shivering slightly.
‘’Safe? Is that your opinion, or the spirits you seem to converse with?’’ he asked, with a raised eyebrow, as she moved away from him and returned to her bed. ‘’We live in the same house… It would be hard to not see each other again. If you need me, leave a note for me in the stables. I’ll try to return as swiftly as possible,’’ he then said to her, with a slightly crooked smile, even though he felt no urge to leave her alone in her room. No, he felt an urge to undress her; to watch her toasted skin writhe on her flesh as she would slither beneath him. The though alone made him slightly dizzy. He shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts; not of someone as innocent and pure as this girl in front of him. ‘’My brother can’t keep me away if you wish me here. But that is something I’ll explain another time,’’ he said, as he nodded to himself. He turned to the door, grasping the handle with his rather large and coarse hands, before he turned his head to look at her once more.

Her words, as she spoke, made him doubt his own rationality. Did he in reality not know anything for certain, where she knew everything and even more? ‘’You’re right,’’ he admitted, with a slight smile. As he faced the door, with his hand on the handle, he stood there for a moment, before he whispered in a soft voice; ”Cualli yohualli Ma xicochi,”. After that, he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him, only to move further away from his chambers, and out to the stables. After such an encounter, he had no choice but to either go tend to Belle, or to return to his chambers to fondle himself for hours, thinking of her touch and her lips. He had refrain from catching anything but respect for the girl - she wasn’t there to be his personal enjoyment; after all, he had just earlier that day fended off two other men wanting the same thing. He felt embarrassed just thinking about her in such a way.

As the sun decided to join him in the stables, he realized that he had been out all night. Ellery would be dying to get out once again, but he wasn’t ready to give up on the body just yet. He couldn’t deliver the body starving for food, sweaty and dirty. That would be like returning a borrowed horse near death to the man that lend it out. It was disrespectful. He decided to follow with one of the younger female servants as she returned from her early-hour chores of milking cows and feeding chickens. He followed her inside through the servant’s entrance and washed off with a rag before he found way to the dining room. The servants hadn’t even had time to place the food on the table before he had sat down; making the servants rush. He smiled to himself, assuring them that no rush was needed, as he had just not been asleep and therefor had joined them earlier than expected.
About half an hour later, the table was set, and he had enjoyed a cup of coffee with his cook, before Zyanya joined him in the dining room. ‘’Good morning,’’ he greeted her, but as he seemed to sense notes of a cold peaking through her voice, he raised a brow. ‘’The night air can be tough on the throat,’’ he assured her, before he finally took an orange from one of the piles with fruit and started peeling it, just as he had seen her do the evening before. ‘’I do hope that you didn’t encounter trouble falling back asleep?’’ he asked, quite calm and with a warm tone, assuring her that it was indeed Nathaniel and not Ellery sitting there.

His short yet sharp nail dug into the thick rind of the orange, sending out oils from the rind; making the room smell fresh and summery. He had grown to enjoy the scent and taste of oranges since she had joined them in the house. As she stated that she had dreamt amazing dreams, he smiled a warm smile to her. ‘’I suppose I’m not allowed to ask what made them amazing?’’. His voice had a cheeky element to it, stating that he had an idea - maybe he was just being too cocky, and she had dreamt of her home and loved ones. He had a tendency to think too highly of himself in regards to others.

As she exclaimed that she wanted to wander the forest, he looked back at his orange while he released a wedge and placed it between his lips. As he bit into it, juice gushed out from it and down his chin. He chuckled slightly, and looked back at her. ‘’I’ll join you, if that is what you’d prefer,’’ he said, before he finished off the wedge that had made a mess on his chin. He wiped the chin off with a cloth-napkin, before he turned to face her and smiled once more. He had not been sleeping - but his mind had wandered. He was tired, but not at the point where he couldn’t join her in the daily activities. He would just have to explain Ellery when he returned.

‘’To be completely honest with you, I don’t trust my men to keep you safe. I’ve not spoken much to them, and some of them have been known to buy women’s company before. I’m not inclined to fire them for such a deed; it’s better to pay than to force yourself upon someone unwanted. But I wouldn’t be content with them guarding you after what happened last night.’’ He said. He had never met the men, to be honest. He had seen them; heard them. But it was Ellery that decided who to hire, and therefore Nathaniel just had to accept that Ellery wanted rough and brute men with little sense of the female mind or anatomy.

‘’I could ask our stablemaster to escort you, if you prefer someone else than me, however,’’ he said. He trusted the stablemaster; a young man with many years of experience in horses and cattle. He had done a good job, and he had not even once failed to do as asked by Nathaniel. The stablemaster, however, had the same tendency as Nathaniel had been known for; he enjoyed men more than women. Where Nathaniel didn’t mind the feeling of a woman; the stablemaster couldn’t even get aroused by one. He needed men. That was the reason why Nathaniel had insisted on hiring him; he wouldn’t have been able to find a solid occupation with the reputation.