Ishbosheth sat at a long dark brown wooden table, shackled with chains to the legs of a tall chair. His feet didn't even touch the ground, just swung in midair. Across the table from Ishbosheth sat Ana, or as they were calling her, Gea.
Ana's hair was greasy and her ringlets hung limp around her shoulders. Her eyes and nose were rosy from rubbing them, probably the result of excess crying. And her wings, which she once held high and proud, were now hanging low, tied together with leather straps. She was similarly shackled to her chair.
Torres, the slave trader, leaned up again the wall next to the table. This was the main reason the two hadn't spoken yet. Ishbosheth was just staring at her, happy she seemed to be ok. Torres kept sighing and shifting his weight between feet, taking turns putting one of his feet on the wall behind him to prop him up.
Ishbosheth moved in his seat to get more comfortable and the chains on his ankles clinked and clanked. He rubbed his hands together, "I... uh, punched a lion." The phrase sounded absurd coming out of his mouth.
Ana simply nodded, staring at the wood of the table. Ishbosheth expected more than a nod! He just said that he had punched a lion! Ana breathed out, saying, "I was there, up in the deck."
Ishbosheth lit up, "You were? You saw me? Was I good?"
Ana nodded again, still not moving her eyes off the table. "He snuck up on you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't like Alexander at all."
"What are you talking about?" Ishbosheth asked.
Finally, Ana looked at him, "He's usually a more honorable fighter, lets his opponent defend themselves. When he snuck up on you he didn't let you."
"You've seen him fight before?"
"Yes, a few times. He's Luther's son, so he fights a lot. He has three, Alexander, Nigel and Maverick. Nigel was trained in physical combat only, so he usually fights Stark and other strong fighters. Maverick is a mage, so he doesn't fight often, but does tricks. He wants to fight some Wizard some time, but Luther says not yet."
"How do you know so much about them?" Ishbosheth asked.
"Antony sent me to work in their home a couple days a week, so I've gotten to know them, Luther, the three cubs, and Raura, Luther's wife."
"I didn't know Luther had a wife." Ishbosheth said.
"Well, she's not been well, ever since the cubs where born she's been dying."
Torres stood up, "You are not to disclose this information," he said, drawing his whip out at its full length.
Ana quickly withdrew and went back to staring at the one spot on the the table, "Yes, sir," she said sheepishly.
Ishbosheth looked at Torres as he wrapped his whip up again. "I'm just glad you're ok," Ishbosheth said to Ana.
Ana sighed and gave a reluctant grin and a quick glance up at Ishbosheth. "Then we're done," Ana said, "I'll try and see if Antony will let us do this again."
"I'd like that," Ishbosheth said, as Torres unlocked his shackles and let him out of the room.
