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font-size: 0px;margin-left:10px;">.</div>Zaya, a third generation prostitute had only known the ways of lying on her back. Where she lived, sex work wasn't necessarily something to be ashamed of and depending on who you allowed yourself to be with, it could lead to a much higher status than that of the average women. Being a woman in Essos was far from as terrible as one would think; such liberties as free will on where they worked, who they dated or married and even political manners didn't lead to being shunned or outcast. That's not to say that there weren't terrible men. For some of the men from Essos, the savagery didn't just come out on the battlefield. She was the home away from home, the comforts of a woman of Essos that the soldiers sought when they had their fill of the pale and docile creatures of foreign land. <div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1663696985802-png.131822/" title="1663696985802.png">
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</div>The women of Essos were fluid, more than their bodies and yet knew no greater talent than that of sensuality. It was Marud who rescued her from the hands of her handler, who at one point in time had called her father. The action seemed foreign when her mother died and she went on to carry the weight of supporting them. Marud with the warm honey brown eyes – a beast in battle and a bear in the sheets. It was only by fate, under Oshuna's rule it made possible he be the one to impregnate her. After a week of her services during their voyage it was just known, that no man beside him lay a hand on her without his agreement and her permission.<br/>
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Her presence wasn't for naught as Zaya was quite studious in her alone time. She picked up the language of Alvaria pretty quickly and hadn't read as much as she did. So, it made sense for her to be the one to greet Kiara outside of the obvious that she could not be properly addressed by Bjorn until they touched their homeland. It would probably offer her a bit of comfort, knowing she wouldn't immediately be thrusted into bed with a stranger. Zaya could only hope to help Kiara pick up as much as possible during their voyage. They would both be learning to be wives together it seemed.<br/>
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The blonde could be seen coming down through the gates, handed off swiftly before they closed and we locked behind her. It was a daunting sound that stirred the stillness and quiet. Behind her Bjorn and the other men were on horseback. Two had come to take her things, their eyes never meeting hers. Zaya bowed slightly in her presence – she was still a princess after all.<br/>
<br/>
"Hello princess, I am Zaya." Her hand trembled slightly, sending the gold bangles around her wrists down to clank against one another. She pushed Bjorn's feather into her hair. "We shouldn't stand around too long. The men are anxious." She took her hand and walked her toward the only horse with a carriage attached. Zaya's hand rested on her stomach. She was only three months along by now but the distinct bump could be seen by pressing her hand to the flowy dark blue fabric. Bjorn had turned his horse around as he would be trotting alongside the carriage along with Marud on the other. The tan of her cheeks didn't cover the soft red that bloomed on her face. Bjorn could be intimidating, especially so in silence. He scowled down at her, his eyes peering beneath her dress as best as he could. <br/>
<br/>
<b><i>"Ég er feginn að hún lítur betur út en ég hélt."<br/>
</i></b><br/>
Zaya couldn't keep her eyes from going wide. He turned away before she could say anything though. She took Kiara's hand to help her up.<br/>
"He says you are very pretty." Once they were both loaded, she was happy to rest back against the bench, even though the mild bit of cushion wouldn't make for a pleasant ride to their ship. "It feels good to leave." Her tongue still curved awkwardly around the syllables and her voice was much deeper, raspier. "Fyrirgefðu mér, sorry. I imagine that is the last you want to hear."<br/>
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<u>Translations:</u><br/>
<b>Ég er feginn að hún lítur betur út en ég hélt</b>:<i> I'm glad she is better looking than I thought.</i><br/>
<b>Fyrirgefðu mér</b>:<i> Forgive me; sorry (formal)</i><br/>
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</div></div></div><br/><br/><div style="margin:auto;margin-top:-15px;color:#a4a4a4;text-align: center; font-size: 8px; font-family: times; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase;">code by promethean</div>