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A Meeting
The market was fragrant and loud, bustling with people. I had gotten what I needed quickly and began to weave my way through the maze of people. I was happy with my good fortune for not having run into anyone because of my speed until someone stepped in front of me. I fell to the ground, contents of my basket spilling out. I sighed heavily and began to gather my purchases. A bronze arm reached down and snatched a bottle of oil that had rolled away.
"That looked like it hurt."
I looked up to put a face to the voice and golden arm that had so graciously helped me. It was a young man in a military cape, tall and muscular with dark, wavy hair that curled under his ears. His ebony eyes sparkled mischievously as he helped me gather my things.
"I'm a Spartan woman, nothing hurts me," I grumbled.
"Is that supposed to be amusing?" he asked with a half grin.
"It was, but I guess I wasn't successful, because you're not laughing."
He helped me to my feet, pulling my hand with one graceful movement.
"I'm Lysander, by the way."
"Ophira."
He looked at me critically.
"Are you the daughter of Aristedes?"
I began to feel nervous at that moment. Who was this man who knew me?
"Yes I am. How did you know?"
"You look like your brother, Aetos," he said softly. "We fought together against Athens. I was there when he died."
My eyes welled with tears and I turned away, wiping them with the back of my hand.
"Let me help you with that," he said, picking up my basket.
"I'm fine," I stated coldly, reaching for it.
"You didn't look fine just a moment ago," he laughed.
"I don't need your help," I said rudely.
"Um, you did…"
"No, I didn't. You chose to help me, I never asked for it," I argued.
"Ah, Aetos told me you were something of a man hater."
I glared at him.
"Not a man-hater, a soldier hater."
His smile changed quickly to a frown.
"Watch your tongue, Harpy," he growled.
"How dare you! I shall not watch my tongue. My brother was only 18 when he was sent off to fight for the "glory of Sparta," I cried sarcastically. "He never came back! He never came back because of these silly Spartan rules."
Lysander grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out of view in between two buildings. He pinned me against the wall and glared down at me. I instantly regretted the words I let fly out of my mouth and began to fear for my life.
"I'm sorry; please forgive my serpent's tongue. I speak of things I do not know about," I whimpered, suddenly remembering to be a lady.
He saw the look on my face and instantly backed away, letting go of my arm, smiling feebly.
"There is nothing to forgive. However, if you spoke like that around the wrong people, I hate to think of what could happen. What you speak of goes against the gods and our people. I miss Aetos too, he was my closest companion."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Now, let me walk you home."
I nodded weakly and began to follow Lysander through the crowd. People moved when they saw him coming. Girls gazed at me with both curiosity and jealously. He was handsome, even though I tried to ignore it. I found myself staring and quickly looked away when he turned his attention to me.
"So, why such a hatred for soldiers? Your father is one and so are your brothers," he finally asked.
"I guess I don't really hate soldiers. I just hate what they have to do. We are just supposed to send our men off to their impending doom with a smile. It's almost as if they aren't allowed to love."
Lysander gave her a soft smile.
"Did you ever think that they do it that way because they love?"
"Does your wife do that for you?" I asked.
"No wife," he grinned.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"20, the same age as Aetos."
"The same age Aetos would have been," I said, taking a deep breath.
I was thankful when we approached my home. I turned to take the basket from his hands when I heard a booming voice.
"Lysander!"
I cringed.
Lysander bowed a little bit, "Aristedes, sir."
"You must stay for the celebration! My son, Zander, just finished training and is finally joining the army."
"Well, if it is ok with Ophira," he said carefully, looking at me.
"That looked like it hurt."
I looked up to put a face to the voice and golden arm that had so graciously helped me. It was a young man in a military cape, tall and muscular with dark, wavy hair that curled under his ears. His ebony eyes sparkled mischievously as he helped me gather my things.
"I'm a Spartan woman, nothing hurts me," I grumbled.
"Is that supposed to be amusing?" he asked with a half grin.
"It was, but I guess I wasn't successful, because you're not laughing."
He helped me to my feet, pulling my hand with one graceful movement.
"I'm Lysander, by the way."
"Ophira."
He looked at me critically.
"Are you the daughter of Aristedes?"
I began to feel nervous at that moment. Who was this man who knew me?
"Yes I am. How did you know?"
"You look like your brother, Aetos," he said softly. "We fought together against Athens. I was there when he died."
My eyes welled with tears and I turned away, wiping them with the back of my hand.
"Let me help you with that," he said, picking up my basket.
"I'm fine," I stated coldly, reaching for it.
"You didn't look fine just a moment ago," he laughed.
"I don't need your help," I said rudely.
"Um, you did…"
"No, I didn't. You chose to help me, I never asked for it," I argued.
"Ah, Aetos told me you were something of a man hater."
I glared at him.
"Not a man-hater, a soldier hater."
His smile changed quickly to a frown.
"Watch your tongue, Harpy," he growled.
"How dare you! I shall not watch my tongue. My brother was only 18 when he was sent off to fight for the "glory of Sparta," I cried sarcastically. "He never came back! He never came back because of these silly Spartan rules."
Lysander grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out of view in between two buildings. He pinned me against the wall and glared down at me. I instantly regretted the words I let fly out of my mouth and began to fear for my life.
"I'm sorry; please forgive my serpent's tongue. I speak of things I do not know about," I whimpered, suddenly remembering to be a lady.
He saw the look on my face and instantly backed away, letting go of my arm, smiling feebly.
"There is nothing to forgive. However, if you spoke like that around the wrong people, I hate to think of what could happen. What you speak of goes against the gods and our people. I miss Aetos too, he was my closest companion."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Now, let me walk you home."
I nodded weakly and began to follow Lysander through the crowd. People moved when they saw him coming. Girls gazed at me with both curiosity and jealously. He was handsome, even though I tried to ignore it. I found myself staring and quickly looked away when he turned his attention to me.
"So, why such a hatred for soldiers? Your father is one and so are your brothers," he finally asked.
"I guess I don't really hate soldiers. I just hate what they have to do. We are just supposed to send our men off to their impending doom with a smile. It's almost as if they aren't allowed to love."
Lysander gave her a soft smile.
"Did you ever think that they do it that way because they love?"
"Does your wife do that for you?" I asked.
"No wife," he grinned.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"20, the same age as Aetos."
"The same age Aetos would have been," I said, taking a deep breath.
I was thankful when we approached my home. I turned to take the basket from his hands when I heard a booming voice.
"Lysander!"
I cringed.
Lysander bowed a little bit, "Aristedes, sir."
"You must stay for the celebration! My son, Zander, just finished training and is finally joining the army."
"Well, if it is ok with Ophira," he said carefully, looking at me.
♠ ♠ ♠
This part is longer! Please comment!