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Entry tags:
Miera Drabble
Prompt: Authority
Word Count: 483
Miera strode confidently through the halls of the keep, weapons at her hip and back and her short hair for once hanging in loose, framing waves about her face. Here she was the master, the lord of her domain in spite of also being its lady. There were visitors expected in the afternoon and she had every intention of making their stay memorable in as many ways as she and her few servants could manage. She was often away from her home, busy on mercenary missions or self-appointed tasks, and had little need for the small army of maids and cooks and grooms and all the other help that kept many larger, less frequently empty manors in good order. The only time she felt the loss was on days like that day, with beloved company coming and only herself, Cook, Sarah, Ciena, and a swarm of temporarily hired youth to make everything ready.
Still, in spite of having spent the last two afternoons on her knees down in the wash house, the thrill of power that came from having her own household was more than enough to make up for the ache in her back and the indignity of being covered in soapsuds by a pack of mischievous brats. There were very few women who could match Miera’s position and she sometime regretted her lack of peers. Then again, few men, let alone women, were suited to the sort of life she had chosen for herself and at least she had company of other sorts.
Her home would soon be host to a princess, a baroness, a high priestess of the western goddess cult, a bespectacled apothecary, and a bar maid who had recently opened her own tavern. Women all, and all linked by common threads. Miera had rescued each and every one of the women from rather unpleasant and, in an instance or two, downright deadly situations. They also had found commonality in a feminine bond, a love of all that womankind could represent, and Miera had known the pleasure of their beds. These links, Miera herself and a desire to see the lives of women everywhere improved, had led to occasional private gatherings as well as a complex web of written communication.
This next week would be filled with laughter and memories and plans and good food and the gentle attentions that could be paid by females to one another. She fully expected to be the butt of many jokes as well as receive the usual exhortations to be careful and to keep up the good work. Too, she looked forward to being able to relax and be pampered and loved in a way she seldom was elsewhere. And if Miera had any sort of authority at all, it was there, in her home, and surrounded by the beautiful and intelligent women she loved and was honored to call her sisters.
Word Count: 483
Miera strode confidently through the halls of the keep, weapons at her hip and back and her short hair for once hanging in loose, framing waves about her face. Here she was the master, the lord of her domain in spite of also being its lady. There were visitors expected in the afternoon and she had every intention of making their stay memorable in as many ways as she and her few servants could manage. She was often away from her home, busy on mercenary missions or self-appointed tasks, and had little need for the small army of maids and cooks and grooms and all the other help that kept many larger, less frequently empty manors in good order. The only time she felt the loss was on days like that day, with beloved company coming and only herself, Cook, Sarah, Ciena, and a swarm of temporarily hired youth to make everything ready.
Still, in spite of having spent the last two afternoons on her knees down in the wash house, the thrill of power that came from having her own household was more than enough to make up for the ache in her back and the indignity of being covered in soapsuds by a pack of mischievous brats. There were very few women who could match Miera’s position and she sometime regretted her lack of peers. Then again, few men, let alone women, were suited to the sort of life she had chosen for herself and at least she had company of other sorts.
Her home would soon be host to a princess, a baroness, a high priestess of the western goddess cult, a bespectacled apothecary, and a bar maid who had recently opened her own tavern. Women all, and all linked by common threads. Miera had rescued each and every one of the women from rather unpleasant and, in an instance or two, downright deadly situations. They also had found commonality in a feminine bond, a love of all that womankind could represent, and Miera had known the pleasure of their beds. These links, Miera herself and a desire to see the lives of women everywhere improved, had led to occasional private gatherings as well as a complex web of written communication.
This next week would be filled with laughter and memories and plans and good food and the gentle attentions that could be paid by females to one another. She fully expected to be the butt of many jokes as well as receive the usual exhortations to be careful and to keep up the good work. Too, she looked forward to being able to relax and be pampered and loved in a way she seldom was elsewhere. And if Miera had any sort of authority at all, it was there, in her home, and surrounded by the beautiful and intelligent women she loved and was honored to call her sisters.