She was a raggedy young girl in clothes given to such waifs by the church or other charitable folk. The trader scooped her off the street but didn't even bother to wash her before putting her on the block. He wasn't terribly surprised when the voices didn't ring out to bid for her. What did surprise him though, was the single voice that called out a rather handsome bid for such a guttersnipe, after a few minutes of the auction crowd's general disinterested murmurs.

The hand went up as the trader scanned the crowd. It was an older mage, by the look of beard and robe. Likely needed a cleaning girl, the trader thought. Well, this girl most certainly needed cleaning. He chuckled to himself and in his amusement decided to let the one bidder have his purchase without the usual attempts to sell him up. Not a bad haul for the wretched thing and he'd not even needed to feed or house her. The purse she brought was all profit.

As the buyer approached, the young girl looked to the trader then to the bearded fellow in the dark robe and belled sleeves. She was still very confused about what was happening. Only this morning had she been pushed out of her own house when the landlord discovered her ailing mother had died the previous week. She had fended as best she could but when the small bit of food and coin ran out, she was left on her own, in the streets.

The buyer's face smiled at her, seeming kind enough. She smiled weakly back from her smudged cheeks. When he had made the exchange of coins with the trader, the mage gestured with his hand. "Come, come. We've much traveling to do ere dark catches us." The trader gave them not so much as a 'by your leave' while they waded through the auction crowd and gradually faded into the countryside.

It was not so long a walk to the dark castle upon the hill by the sea. The girl barely said a word. When the man spoke it was little more than idle chatter. As his hand curled to knock upon the oak at Double Moon, the girl became nervous. She found the place a bit large and frightening, even more so as the door creaked open and a gentleman answered.

There was an exchange of greetings and welcomes. The girl was sure she'd heard the gentleman sniff at her as she passed him. She stepped in and stood quietly with her head lowered, sandy brown and tangled hair falling across her face, as the mage spoke further with the man. "So, Maxwell, I was wondering if we might have a room for the night. Nothing fancy, mind you. Oh... and one with a bath, if available. As you can see... well... perhaps some clothing as well. Sorry to be such a bother." His tone was warm and comfortable. The girl liked his voice much better than the gentleman, who seemed a bit cold, at least to her.

"Certainly, Lord Bayne. The Ladies will be pleased to see you again." As Maxwell led the two through the Great Hall and into a corridor, the mage explained. "Oh I fear we shant be here so long as to make a proper visit. I only came to auction in town... on a whim, shall we say. I'll want to get us back home and so we've need of starting early in the morning, if you please, Maxwell. My regards to the Ladies however and of course my thanks for their hospitality and yours." He patted Maxwell on the shoulder in a very familiar and friendly way. The girl, following behind them, was rather surprised the gentleman allowed it. Seemed to her he'd be likely to flinch if anyone touched him, he was so stern, to her eyes anyway.

At last Maxwell stopped and unlocked a door. He swung it open for them, revealing a rather plain but comfortable looking suite of table and chairs, other odd furniture, and most prominently noticed by the girl, a bed. One bed. No matter, she thought. She would sleep on the floor. Even that looked more comfortable here than her own bed at home, or, what had been her home.

She had been made to understand, on their journey from the market, that the mage had purchased her, which he defined as the right to care for her and see that she had a clean place to sleep, clothes to wear, food to eat. This all seemed very fortunate to her as she needed all of these things. So, he seemed as kindly as his voice and face. He even fed her before they'd left the marketplace to come on this journey. However, she'd hidden some of the bread in her shirt while his attention was turned, just in case his words of help were untruthful. Alas, she had found opportunity to nibble that bit away while following him here.

Maxwell promised to send in fresh linens and some spare clothing that might fit the girl. He grinned then and stepped out of the door, closing it behind him. It was no time at all before a maid scurried through the door, heavily laden with things the girl could barely decipher til they were set down on a dresser and the maid was gone out the closed door in a flash.

Overcome with curiosity the girl drifted to the dresser to look at the things. She leafed though the folded clothing and linens, enjoying the clean smell of them.

"Well now... I was just about to call your name.", the mage said. "But, I realized I didn't ask you for it, hm?"

The girl turned and brushed her hair from her face, her fingers leaving a clean smear on an otherwise dirty cheek. "Marielle, sir."

"Ah. Fine name. Marielle. Tell me child, how long since you had a bath?" He arched a white brow and his gleaming gray eyes awaited her answer.

"I dunno, sir. A while." She fidgeted where she stood, rocking one foot nervously.

"Then I think one is in order. Off with those rags, dear."

Marielle's eyes widened and she looked around the room. There was one small door other than the one to the hallway. There were two large windows, on either side of the big canopied bed, but no place to conceal herself to undress, so she took a step toward the extra door, assuming that was the bathing room.

Bayne stood watching her as she surveyed the room. When she moved, he stepped toward her. "Nae, child. Undress here."

Marielle backed up against the dresser then turned away from him and fingered the clothing again. She was stalling, trying to think of what to say. She felt the mage step in close behind her. When his hands reached around to the tail of her ragged shirt, she froze.

"B-but sir, there is no place. I mean..." Her voice was jittery, shaking with the rest of her. His hands pulled at the tail of her shirt and freed it from the leggings she was wearing. His voice was low and husky in her ear. "What a shame to put such a lithe body in these tattered boy's clothes."

"It w-was all they h-had, ssssir." Her hands slowly drifted up so she could draw them to her chest and maybe stop his hands as they slipped beneath the shirt and pressed to her skin.

Again his voice hissed in her ear. "No need to keep them now. I have acquired new ones for you." His large hands slid up her ribs and pushed beneath her arms to cup her small breasts. "How old would you say you are, Marielle?"

"I have sssseen b-but fifteen sssummers, sssir." Her heart was pounding against his fingertips. Her breasts pressed into his hands with each nervous breath.

"Ah, so new to the world, but in this day, old enough to be a man's wife. Much to learn. You shall need a teacher and fortunately I am in need of an apprentice."

"Apprentice? I will learn m-magic?" She gulped as his hands progressed upward, forcing her arms up and slowly stripping the shirt off over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. She quickly pulled her arms across her chest again.

The mage grabbed her shoulders and turned Marielle around to face him. She was virtually pinned against the dressing table. Her frightened brown eyes looked up into his face. In truth, he could be taken as little more than thirty but that was old to her and his practice of magic had made his long hair and beard stark white. They were however silky smooth. His face was certainly not so old as she thought from a distance. It was a trick of the white hair, she supposed. And his eyes... they were gray but sparkling. Still, his frank gaze and the memory of his hands cupping her breasts had her shaking.

As he looked her over, she lowered her gaze to stare straight ahead at his chest. She couldn't begin to understand the apparent runes embroidered on a strip down the center of his dark blue robe. She couldn't read anything, in fact. Schooling, especially for girls, was unheard of in her part of town.

He spoke calmly to her and in doing so, belied what his hands proceeded to do. "Now, Marielle. First order of business is to teach you how to address me." His hands traced down her ribs this time and his fingers slipped just inside the waist of her leggings. He brought his hands together in the front and slowly untied the string. She dared not breathe as he looked down at her and continued his first lesson. "Sir... is not wrong, but I would prefer that you call me Master or M'lord." He pulled at the waist of the leggings to loosen them and let them fall into a heap at her ankles.

They had given her no undergarments at the church, so she stood with her arms crossed over her chest and pressed her thighs together as hard as she could, but it did little to cover her nakedness. He was so close. She closed her eyes, no longer able to stare at the golden runes embroidered on dark blue velvet.

Bayne watched her as she stood shivering and trying to cover herself with nothing. He grinned and whispered in a low hiss. "Step out of those filthy rags, girl."

Marielle took one tiny step aside and quickly brought her foot out of the leggings to again press her thighs together. She had not opened her eyes. She couldn't. So it was a shock, making her gasp, when his hand covered her belly and then his fingers crawled slowly to the soft mound of fairly new hair just peeping between her legs.

The mage turned to stand beside Marielle so his hand could cover her at a more comfortable angle. She subconsciously leaned away from him, so his other arm went around her shoulder to pull her back against his velvet robe. He was leaning slightly over her shoulder to watch his fingers softly stroke her mound. "So the hair on that dirty head is spun gold, I see." He smiled as his fingers were playing in the nearly white curls she was trying so hard to hide.

His hand worked between her pressed thighs to cup her mound, while the other hand reached over her shoulder to draw one of her own arms away from her chest. "Let's us see you, hm?"

She couldn't. She held fast, tightening her arms across her chest. He sighed with disgust and stepped away from her then waved her off toward the spare door. "Go. To the bath then." She was so grateful to move away from him that she nearly ran and burst into the smaller room. The mage watched her as her smooth rounded cheeks shifted and disappeared behind the door. She was still frozen there as he caught up to her. A service door closed. She'd been seen by a young servant who had just finished filling the tub. The boy, hardly older than herself, merely nodded to her then left.

"Get to it, girl! Step into the tub. You'll not get clean standing here." The mage's voice was agitated as he closed the door behind him, standing in the smaller room with her and all too close to her again.

Marielle was curled up on herself as she stepped over into the tub. The water was quite warm and soapy. It smelled of Spring and freshness she had never known in her life. She stood shivering in it, not certain what to do. She'd only cleaned from a small basin. Would she drown in this large one?

She looked at Bayne. She had no notion what else to do. He arched a brow then shook his head and huffed as he began to undo that braid of runes running the length of his robe. There were ties behind the embroidery, as she discovered. She looked away as he opened the robe and started to slide it off his shoulders. When she heard his feet shuffle she had to look back again. He was turned around, hanging his robe on a hook. The muscles of his broad back flexed. Her eyes drifted downward and saw the rolled waist of thin silk breeches, fitting him loosely down to where they tucked into his boots.

She looked back up to his face with a start as he turned to her again. He was grinning. "This too, else you're likely to soak it." To her amazement, his hand crossed his face and began to lift his beard from his skin! He scrunched his face up as though it hurt and she imagined this surely did! Mage or no mage. He lay the long beard aside, carefully smoothing it. Marielle watched it a bit longer as Bayne pulled his long hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a tie. "No, this hair does not come off."

Broken from her reverie over the miraculous beard, Marielle looked back. How much younger he looked without the long silken beard and only now did she see it must have been made of his own hair but affixed to his face by some magic. He bent over the tub near her and cupped water to his chin and cheeks to rub off the resin. Of course, it was not magic, more a bit of alchemy.

When the mage straightened up before her, her eyes traced up his bare chest and to his face. Her voice was so quiet, she barely heard the question herself. "You look much younger why is your hair white?" The words fell out all at once and then she cringed for perhaps it was not her place to ask such a thing.

He said nothing as he bent again. She only watched his back and his hair as he moved so she didn't really see the bucket nor pay attention as he filled it, but certainly it caught her attention when he dumped it over her head.

Marielle sputtered and spit water then gasped. Her hands moved from her chest for the first time, so she could push soaked hair from her eyes.

"Ah.." he said as his eyes reviewed her while he lathered up soap in his hands. "I had begun to wonder just what treasures you were protecting so diligently." The pot of soap was fragrant and heady and clouded her mind, not to mention her attempts to recover from what felt like near drowning. Bayne reached to her head and began to lather up her hair. "Already you smell better, girl."

"Marielle." She whispered as she covered her breasts again. His washing was rough and she had to work to stay balanced, standing in the tub.

"Yes, Marielle. That seems fair. Arms at your sides."

Of course, she only looked at him. His look back was emotionless and relentless. He stared into her face until she slowly drew her arms away and let them hang at her sides. His hand slipped behind her neck while the other soaped her shoulders and worked in under her arms. She closed her eyes and squeaked as he rubbed soap over her breasts. He took great pleasure in letting his hands swirl with the curves of them. His thumb played over her nipples. He watched each nipple disappear beneath his fingers and reappear between them. Though she thought he never would, he moved one hand further down across her ribs and then to her flat belly.

She winced as his hand at her neck suddenly gripped her hard. Her eyes drew to his face and his gray sparkling eyes locked her gaze. His voice stabbed through her, riveted her in place. "Let not your eyes stray... and move not." Marielle didn't dare even nod. She bit her lip and kept her eyes on his. Even as she felt his soapy hand move down toward her thighs as before, she searched his eyes.

He held her fast as her lips parted in a gasp for his slippery hand had no trouble invading between her upper thighs. Still his eyes held hers. She wanted to close them, to wiggle from his gaze and from his intrusive fingers but his will was stronger and she moved not, as commanded. His fingers slid across her softest flesh, back and forth, then to her relief, his hand rose again to spread across her tummy.

The fingers gripping the back of her neck eased their hold. His eyes softened. His thumb made a soft circle of her navel. His voice was calm and seemed to make an idle comment. "Need more soap." Bayne leaned into her and reached around to dip into the pot of soap.

She felt she was covered in it already. What could he do with more? As his arm flexed around her shoulder, the hand at her neck drew her to him, almost knocking her off her feet. He pinned her face to his chest. She couldn't help pressing her hands to his waist to steady herself. Then, she felt the soap on his fingers and his palm, slowly circling her buttocks. She squirmed a bit but his voice vibrated through his chest against her face. "Be still."

Finally her eyes closed as she jerked to his touch, the touch where his soapy fingers slid between her cheeks and stroked there. Thankfully he did no more and in a moment she was standing again, without his touch, soaped completely and calf-deep in cooling milky water.

He splashed a little water on his chest to rinse off her soap then reached for a thick white towel. As he dried himself off he looked at her standing there. A tear had left a clean streak in the soap and grime still on her face. As he turned, he tossed his voice back at her. "Rinse off all of that. Dry yourself. Return to the bedchamber."

When the door closed on her, she sank into the tub, covering tears with a rinse of chilled soapy water. She bent forward and dunked her head to rinse her hair then sat up very still for a few moments. Could she go through the servant's door and get away? Get help? Where would she go? Back on the streets? If she.... if she returned to the bedchamber...

The water was very cold by the time Marielle was able to drag herself out of it. She dried herself off on the towel he had used, then wrapped it around her. Her hand shook as she opened the bedchamber door.

It had grown very late. Lord Bayne sat at a small table, picking at a tray of fruit, cheeses and bread he'd had brought up while he was waiting for Marielle to finish her bath. He bid her come sit with him and share in the food and a sweet wine that had been brought up with it. She struggled to eat and drink and keep the towel covering her. He'd told her not to bother dressing first.

When he was finished, he rose with his glass of wine and set it on the night table near the bed. Marielle looked away from him and back to her food when she realized he was removing his silk breeches and boots. He threw back the blankets on the bed and stretched himself out there then patted the space beside him. "Come, girl. It has been a long day and we've a long journey tomorrow. Time for rest."

She swallowed a bite of bread quickly then gathered up her own glass, managing to keep the towel around her too as she went to the bed. She set the glass down as he had, on her own night table, then started to climb into bed. She froze a moment at his clipped, "No towel." It made her gulp but then he'd already seen her, touched her. She let the towel drop to the floor and quickly climbed in under the blankets, pulling them up around her. She curled up on her side, turned away from him. Marielle heard and felt him shifting in the bed as he scooted in close to her. She held her breath as his breath drifted across her shoulder. His hand slid over her ribs then came to rest across her belly. His hips pressed in behind her and she could feel the contours of him pressing against her cheeks.

"Relax, girl. I said rest and I meant it." His body settled against hers and she finally exhaled and let her own body and mind gradually drift toward sleep. As sleep came to claim her, she reminded him softly again, "Marielle." But he was already breathing deeply with his own slumber.

( Continued in Part 2)

(Click on candle to return to the Great Hall)

Hall of Innocence

Sorcerer's Apprentice
Part 1   Part 2
Strawberry Blush
Hidden Talent