To market, to market...

[Ramla]

<sub>Ramla went by foot, unlike many citizens of Greece these days. That was her first uniqueness. Although, that's not what stood out about her. After all; not everybody went by horse. No, her second uniqueness was far more noticeable. The second was that she was Egyptian. The third was that she was a thief.

If anyone saw Ramla, their attention might be caught for a moment of two, perhaps by her foreign looks, perhaps by her intense green eyes. Maybe it was the darker shade of her skin, or her coal black hair. Most likely, they thought; it was the confident way she carried herself, her chin lifted slightly, her stride sure and certain. Women like her simply didn't happen in Greece. However, people in the city were busy. they had their own lives to attend. Nobody paid mind to the strange Egyptian girl with the fierce green eyes. And that was exactly the way Ramla liked it.

She wove her way throughout the bustling market place, threading between people and horses, stands and stalls, vendors carrying fruit and the butcher chopping meat. The air was thick with the sounds of the city, and the smells of food and people hung heavy around her.

The trick; she knew; was to look as if you belonged. Nobody paid heed to someone walking with purpose. But sulk, sneak, tentative lurking would catch attention without fail.

And Ramla certainly didn't want attention. She was here on a mission; to steal whatever would get her through the next day. She came and went to the market every afternoon, or maybe every other. She never stayed in one place for long; moving every month of so, to return a bit later. It was safer that way.

Today, she was hungry. She was always hungry. Funny; that; how thieves never seem to be full, never have enough to eat. She eyed the butchers stand greedily, her stomach growling painfully as the smells of beef and pork wafted up her nose. But no. That was far too elaborate. She continued walking. A. A bakery. Perhaps a loaf of bread might not be noticed missing, for long enough that she might get away?

She stood near by, mingling with the bartering crowd, looking interested, blending in. Luckily for her the stand was busy at the present, everybody fighting to be noticed; nobody doing the noticing. She made her way close nd snuck a small loaf of crusty bread into the folds of her white robe, slipping away before anyone became suspicious. And on to the next stand.

And so her day went; much the same as her other days. Now and then, she would stop to sell a small trincket she had picked up along her travels in other cities, for a few gold coins. None to be saved for very long. She bought a large, red apple for the coins she had earned from selling a small earring, for example.

Quite pleased with herself and her days pickings; some bread and an apple; ramla began making her way out of the marketplace. Never an easy feat; the crowd was now shoulder to shoulder thick, hurrying to get the rest of their shopping done before the afternoon faded to dusk. However, ramla had much experience in places such as these, and though her small frame was tossed and tramples, bruised and banged, she managed to push her own way towards the outskirts of the market.</sub>

[Dianthe]

Dianthe frowned over at her betrothed as he continued to rant. Herodes had never been sublte about his dislikes, and he was not about to start now. Dianthe had lost track of the conversation, as usual, and began to look around and observe. She had always been curious about the people in the marketplace. They always had such interesting things to sell, and she was sure some had traveled to far away countries. She rode a moment more before deciding to see what Herodes was talking about.

...all these foreign people, that are invading our country. I don't see what the king allows them access. I mean, really, an Egyptian girl in the marketplace?

Following his gaze, green eyes curious, Dianthe spotted a dark girl next to a bread stand. She never would have seen the woman had Herodes kept quiet, but that was not his nature.

It wasn't until her horse was rearing that she realized a couple of children had run screaming past. The attention and suddenness spooked the mare into a clumsy start, sending the unwary Dianthe to a cold stone ground. Stupid! she scolded herself, propping herself up by her hands. At the moment she raised her head, she saw the Egyptian girl steal some bread.

Dianthe allowed herself to be helped up, noting that her husband-to-be had not even stopped his horse. In fact, it seemed he was oblivious to the whole ordeal. With a slight scowl, Dianthe looked back to the stand to see that the girl was gone. She seized her horse and remounted, giving hurried thanks before urging her horse into a slow canter in the opposite direction of Herodes. For an unknown reason, she wanted to follow that girl.

It took a small moment to spot the girl, and Dianthe pressed on in that direction, following from a distance until the girl had reached the outskirts of the marketplace. After halting her mare, Dianthe watched with alert eyes to see the girl's next move.

[Ramla]

<sub>The afternoon was hot, the air heavy with humidity and the threat of rain. The matter wasn't helped at all by the sheer amount of people in the market, and the hustle and bustle of it all seemed to increase the oppressive heat. For this early in spring; the temperatures were unnaturally high. Ramla was comforted only by the thought that the heat was worse in the market; and by the time she was free of the city it would undoubtedly be cooler.

Although; thinking back now; Ramla knew she had grown rather spoiled since she had left Egypt. In the deserts there the heat like this loomed all year round, water was found only by a hike a mile from home to the river, which of course had to be carted back to the farm. But it was only natural to adjust to your surroundings, and after over three year in Greece, Ramla had grown accustomed to the cooler weather, the frequent rain and comfortable temperatures.

How strange to think of this land having pampered the girl, spoiled her. Anyone at a glance could see that she was painfully thin; weighing hardly a healthy amount. She had to steal whatever would help her survive to the next day; had no home and moved from place to place to keep from being arrested.

However; Ramla knew that given the choice between her current life her in Greece, and the one she would have undoubtedly be living still in Egypt; she would prefer to be the street thief she was.

It was a taste of freedom for the yong woman. She lived for herself. She was nobody's prize, nobody's pet. And when she found herself place to leep and closed her eyes for the night; she had no worries of being woken and abused by her cruel husband. When she mistepped and blundered; she didn't fear the hard blows that she had faced in her own home.

===============================

Ramla wandered the streets, manuvering her way through the throngs of merchants and buyers, horses' hooves and bustling customers. She had almost freed herself from the sweltering city, when she chanced a glance over her shoulder. Her emerald eyes met those of a young woman on horse back.

Ramla stopped dead in her tracks. The woman was focused intently on the girl, not whatever errands she might otherwise have been running. She wheeled around, green eyes flashing.

You're following me. It wasn't a question. Infact, spoken more like an accusation, it matched the girl's now intensly wary and gaurded nature.</sub>

[Dianthe]

Dianthe simply blinked, startled. But a moment later the surprise on her pale face had disappeared, replaced by a defensive glare. She sat up a little straighter and stared down at the girl below her. Suddenly conscious of her height, she slid of the sorrel mare and turned to face the girl, now about the same level.

You've been stealing. She said it just as accusingly, still a little disgruntled about having been caught. Really she had no idea if the girl had stolen more than just the bread, but the theft had been done so well that Dianthe could easily assume the girl had done it before. She held the reins tightly, not wanting the mare to try to run off. This horse belonged to Herodes and his family, and so was probably very expensive. Herodes liked things that were expensive. Following this train of thought, Dianthe once again found herself wondering how she could be betrothed to such a rich man. Because his father owed mine a big favor, that's why, she reminded herself. Still, although they had been told that they looked good together, Dianthe couldn't help thinking the exact opposite.

Anyways, yes, the woman... the Egyptian girl had such startling eyes. They were a dark green, shining like gems. Coupled with the girl's dark hair and skin tone, Dianthe coudn't help thinking how intimidating this woman was. It was a wonder that nobody ever noticed her.

[Ramla]

<sub>Ramla had wheeled around, her vivid green eyes flashing with unnerving intensity. Her dark bronze skin stood out strongly against the other woman's paler coloring, and wisps of her raven black hair had begun the whip out from it wrap at the back of her neck. And, in the fold of her white robes, Ramla could feel the weight of the loaf of bread and the small red apple.

She looked upon the other woman in silence, her thick lashes narrowed warily. Ramla took in everything about this woman, her emerald eyes lingering on the horse beside her.

The mare was a beauty, her coat shone, the tack on her back was alone worth more than Ramla's entire wealth back in Egypt had been. Such an animal came from a rich home. Of course. If this woman rode such a horse to market, she would never have had to steal for bread. She had never known the pangs of hunger. She would not understand how a penniless Egyptian girl felt, in a home foreign to her, having to steal food for the day, perhaps the week. How delicious the crust bread seemed to her, though this woman would probably pass it over without a second glance.

Ramla's wary, defensive posture rapidly turned to that of anger. Her back straight, chin high and proud as allways, her intense green eyes locked onto those of the other woman. And when she spoke, it was with a heavy Egyptian accent, the Greek words sounding foreign on her tongue.

Yes. I haff bane stealing. I am hungary, without rich money to pay for my food. A rich Greek woman with a horse to market cane not undarstand the pains of hungar. And eef the rich Greek woman were so angared by my stealing, why has she not brought her rich official friends to arrest me?

Ramla was no mouse, no coward of a lady. She was stubborn, and proud, the high lift in her chin illustrated this more than words could. If she was going to be accused of stealing--and rightfully so--she would hold her ground, and fight back. She would go with all the prde and dignity due to an Egyptian girl with no wealth to her name, an outcast, a shame to her family.

All along she had known it would be this way. Her small taste of freedom these last three years, she had known they wouldn't last. She had shamed her family, and she had known she would pay. But it infuriated her to no end that a rich born noble woman would be the one to end it for her.</sub>

[Dianthe]

Dianthe's temper flared instantly. How dare this girl judge her? To be scrutinized by a common thief! But what else is she supposed to think? said her inner-voice. Here you are in a marketplace with a shining steed and dressed like a princess, and you expect that to not matter? After all, how many woman get to go from farm girl to noble? Dianthe calmed herself with a deep breath, and hid her emotions behind a blank mask.

You judge me without knowing me. She said it simply, not wishing to give this girl a detailed explanation. You think I do not understand you. You think I've not known your feelings. You judge me by my appearance, as I'm sure others do to you. I did not follow you because I wanted to have you arrested. I followed because.... Dianthe paused, suddenly at a loss for words. She had no idea why she had followed this girl. She let the sentence hang unfinished. I suppose you're one of those people who would not accept an offering of food or money, for the reason of not wanting charity? Dianthe cocked her head just the tiniest bit, eyeing the girl as if studying her. The woman didn't look much older than herself. She was too young to have resorted to theft.

Dianthe jingled a coin pouch tauntingly and gestured towards the venders. What do you say? she asked with a smile. How about doing it the honest way?

[Ramla]

<sub>Ramla stood tall, or as tall as she could. Her back was straight and rigid, her chin with a slight lift, her jaw set. There was a cold glint in her proud green eyes, and her black hair gleamed with the afternoon sun. She was hot and tired, more than a bit irritated, and restless to leave the bustling city and relish the days earnings. And then here comes Miss Royal, messing up her fine plans.

Ahnd you do not joodge me? You think that you know me, my feeleengs you say? You do not. You have not, or you would not haff fallowed me. Take a look at yourself, before speaking to me of joogment. Ramla stopped speaking, her full lips pressed tightly together. She knew her Greek was not as good as it could be, but she liked it that way. Her difference reminded her of who she really was. Ramla was no Grecian Princess, she was an Egyptian girl. An Egyptian girl who had shamed her family and run away without a penny to her name. She could never forget that.

She kept her gaze level, meeting the other woman glance for glance. Her heavy black eyelashes were narrowed around her erie green eyes, and she kept her chin high and proud. As she glared at the other woman, she realized with a small start that she really wan't much older than herself. Perhaps even a year or two younger.

Ramla's vivd green eyes flashed in rage at the other woman's offer. No! I do not want your rich mooney. I work harrd for whataver I cane get. I do not use my husbond's mooney. Allright, so that was a guess. But if there was anything she had learned from her three years in Greece, it was that much like Egypt; woman held only the status that their husband was worth. This girl probably owed all her horse and purse to her husband's glory. Ramla earned her own way.

Why haff you fallowed me? You accuse me off stealing. Then you offar me mooney. Which one were you theenking when you fallowed me? Why haff you come? Ramla's voice rolled the uncertain syllables off her tongue, her face changing rapidly from indignation to suspicious wariness.


[ooc:] Sorreh, short post. And I'm sorry I haven't posted with Georgios yet. Trying to sort out multiple roleplays, not having much luck. Also, as an FYI, all the spelling mistakes (atleast in bold) are just her accent. I really do type better than that, lol.</sub>

[Dianthe]

Thanks to many hours spent with dear Herodes, Dianthe had learned to bite back her rage. Especially around her betrothed. With this woman, she did the same. But her frustration at the girl was pushing her to her limits. She sighed, trying to push the emotions back and handle this in a mature way.

Dianthe understood why the girl hated her; she looked rich, and arrogance usually came with the wealthy. What reason did the girl have to believe she was different? There had been so many times lately when Dianthe had just wanted to scream at people that she wasn't like the other nobles, yell about being the daughter of a farmer turned soldier, shout that she didn't want to marry into this world. But she never did. Besides, soon it wouldn't matter; she'd be into it and nothing before that would matter.

I'm afraid we'll have to disagree about the working hard part. Based on what I've seen, you steal what other people work for. But I'd probably be doing the same thing if I looked as hungry as you, Dianthe said quietly as she stowed her money away. She looked up and stared into the Egyptian woman's eyes, wanting full contact for what she was going to say next, in hopes that there would be no misgivings and that the other girl would see that she meant what she said. It was never my intention to have you arrested. I supposed it was curiousity that made me follow you; I have no better explanation than that. I offered you money because you need it and I don't, because you are hungry and soon I will never have to worry about that feeling again. I offered you money because I wish to be different from the rest of the arrogant pigs that walk these streets.


[OOC] Don't worry about it. I'm always wishing my posts were longer. And I guessed about the whole spelling thing, lol.

[Ramla]

<sub>Ramla was steaming. She was a proud, stubborn, head strong, mule of a woman, unusual in Egypt and even more so in Greece. She had a short temper and fiersome pride, and was a bit of a bear once her anger was triggered. Her days of playing the demure, simpering housewife were over, and she relished in her new freedom to express her emotions in no uncertain terms. This woman, by some strange force unknown to Ramla, had the power to spark her rage even when it was obvious she was trying to be kind.

Already irritated by the hold up, and her temper not helped by her growling stomache and the knowlege that food was so near, Ramla was breathing fire.

How dare this woman, her age or younger by the looks of it, act her mother? How dare she assume she knew Ramla's position, or offer any judgement at all? That behavoir alone infuriated her more that the 'arrogant pigs' who simply ignored her and let her on her way.

Girl! Hear! I do not caire h'what you theenk off me. If you would do the same; why do I caire? You theenk to give me rich money, so I cane buy like all the rich Greeks, but you are wrong! I gave my life in Egypt, weeth money and food and home, to coom to Greece weeth nothing. I do not want to go back! This life I have now, this is Free! How you dare to jooge that, you who knows notheeng off the fear I roon from!

She pursed her lips, green eyes flashing with indignant pride. She didn't know why; but somehow it was imperative that she make this woman understand. Understand why she stole, why she was proud of her new way of life, how it was her own, she worked for what she got, and if by the off chance she was caught, she faced no one but herself. The food was for her, the risk was for herself, not her husband's anger.

You arre curious? Curious about the Egyptian girl who steals? Fine. You will know. I marry a man in Egypt. I ame 14, then. My parents choose him for me. He is high caste, so it goode for my family. Fine. I know wife's duty to husband. So. I marry theese man. And, fine. But then, he es, not kind. Bad man. I make mistake, he hit me. I bruised, broken, they ask, what happened? I say, I fale down. I do not complain. I know wife's duty. At night, he...hurt me. I still not complain.

This go on...year, bit more. He get worse. One day, I farget to broosh horse. He hit me weeth horse whip. My clothes off, for whip, and then he...hurt me. Even then. I ame 15, then. I want to go. Away from him. So I sneak onto trade caravan to Greece. I leave my husband. I shame my family. This is..l three, four years ago. Now I steal, yes. It ees hard work, like you do not know. But it es for me. I leve for me, not my pig husband. Now you know. You still curious?

Ramla spat, livid. Angry still, yes. But mostly humiliated. Her most hidden secret. Her darkest shame. To a 'curious' Greek noble woman, younger than her. Fine. Maybe now she would be left in peace to eat her bread and apple.</sub>

[/sub]

[Dianthe]

Dianthe listened to the story with a saddening heart. She had assumed that the girl had had a horrid past, but it still was unpleasant to hear the story. And she no longer felt the need to hold back her own story.

I grew up on a farm. I've spent my whole life working outside. Dianthe held up hands and gestured at the thick callouses on her palms. I'm not the noble woman all these people think I am. My father has never shared the details, but basically he saved the life of some high and mightly nobleman, who was forever in my father's debt. He decided to pay that debt off by betrothing his son, Herodes, to me. I barely know Herodes, and for all I know, I'll end up with the same life as you. I've never been beaten--my father saved that for my mother. I barely know said father, because he's in the army. My mother is weakened, and my brother has his own wife now, and so the life I've come to feel comfortable in is slowly falling apart. I haven't lived as harshly as you, and instead of being on the streets, I'm about to marry into a noble life. But I lack your freedom. I do not want to this life, this money, this position, but like you did, I am going to accept it because it is my duty. Dianthe looked away to watch the venders, suddenly unable to look the woman in the eye. She had never told anyone her true feelings about her life-to-be, and now she felt bare and naked. She also felt fear. Fear at not knowing what Herodes could do, fear that she would be treated as this girl had.

Fear that she would never have the courage to leave her husband, her family, her home.

OOC: Sorry it's so short =/ My muse seems to have run away again.