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Oct. 2nd, 2023 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
live2serveFlavia Antonia's life is quite the comfortable one, relatively speaking. Their villa, a couple of hours' ride outside Rome, is large and luxurious with a beautiful view of the valley and its rolling fields of grain and little orchards that she loves wandering through - the ones her father's men grow and tend and harvest and sell.
Sure, she has to help her mother with the housework and study to someday herself be a wife to a wise, strong Roman man and have good Roman babies, but she wants for very little. Her bed is comfortable, her room - though small by modern standards - cozy and all to herself. Her elder brothers are some of her dearest friends in the world, whether they've joined the army or are training to take over her father's business or start their own venture in the world. She knows the staff of her family's villa, their workers and their slaves, and sees them like another family to her.
And then there's Amir.
Ever since the day, several years ago, when her father had returned home from the city with several new slaves, Flavia has been transfixed by the woman. She's a little older than the teenager, her skin a beautiful darker color that Flavia had never seen aside from the field hands who spend all day in the sun, and Amir's is natural. Her voice is soft and sweet, speaking Latin with such a lovely accent, and she tells Flavia such wonderful stories about the place she'd come from.
(Flavia being a girl of her age and growing up in privilege, has not wondered once if Amir might like to someday stop being a slave and go back home, of course.)
And she has taught Flavia some... wonderful things. Strange things, things that Flavia worries her mother might call unnatural, but things that are delightful and pleasurable and make Flavia squirm when she thinks about them when she's supposed to be practicing her letters.
"Amir," she calls, near dusk on a warm day in early summer, walking through the villa. "Amir, are you around?"
Sure, she has to help her mother with the housework and study to someday herself be a wife to a wise, strong Roman man and have good Roman babies, but she wants for very little. Her bed is comfortable, her room - though small by modern standards - cozy and all to herself. Her elder brothers are some of her dearest friends in the world, whether they've joined the army or are training to take over her father's business or start their own venture in the world. She knows the staff of her family's villa, their workers and their slaves, and sees them like another family to her.
And then there's Amir.
Ever since the day, several years ago, when her father had returned home from the city with several new slaves, Flavia has been transfixed by the woman. She's a little older than the teenager, her skin a beautiful darker color that Flavia had never seen aside from the field hands who spend all day in the sun, and Amir's is natural. Her voice is soft and sweet, speaking Latin with such a lovely accent, and she tells Flavia such wonderful stories about the place she'd come from.
(Flavia being a girl of her age and growing up in privilege, has not wondered once if Amir might like to someday stop being a slave and go back home, of course.)
And she has taught Flavia some... wonderful things. Strange things, things that Flavia worries her mother might call unnatural, but things that are delightful and pleasurable and make Flavia squirm when she thinks about them when she's supposed to be practicing her letters.
"Amir," she calls, near dusk on a warm day in early summer, walking through the villa. "Amir, are you around?"
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Date: 2023-10-03 04:47 pm (UTC)It isn't family. It isn't home. But... it is something. And Amir likes her well enough; cares for her in her own way and tries to do the best she can as a house servant and a slave. She supposes it isn't a bad life. And... she is genuinely fond of Flavia. Enough to tell her stories of her old life and her home and to become more deeply intertwined with her (in more ways than one). She's fetching a load of firewood at the moment from the storage shed, winding her way back up to the main house when she hears her voice and she perks up a little.
"Mistress? I'm down here."