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Trapped in the past?

Claudia didn't know exactly how it had happened, but the guy she'd been trying to snag an artifact from had caught her instead. She remembered being dragged through some kind of portal, and a conversation with some very strangely-dressed individuals that would have scared even some of the toughs she'd known in her time on the streets. It had been hours before she really understood what had happened, to get even a slight grip on the foreign words and sights around her. Somehow, she'd been sent back in time, when exactly she wasn't certain, and given over to these scoundrels to do with as they pleased. It wasn't until she saw the city that she even knew where she was. Nobody could mistake Rome, even this ancient shining city.

Her wrists tied together and into a string with the other unfortunates, the only real indignities she'd been spared were being stripped of her possessions and raped. From the little she could catch, they thought she would being them quite a small fortune as a wonder. Maybe even one of the senators would find her worth having, and it wouldn't do to damage the goods unnecessarily. Still, she had quite a few bruises and a blackening eye from the casual 'encouragements' she'd received. A halting attempt at what she knew of Latin and Greek had only resulted in snickering laughter and an incomprehensible reprimand with a threatening knife at her mouth. Apparently their definition of 'damaged goods' didn't include the ability to speak.

Now, she was turned over to the slave auction, and there, nothing could have prepared her for the indignities. Her clothes, much the worse for wear after all the travel were unceremoniously stripped off her in front of the noisy crowd as one man gave a long-winded description of her, enthusiasm clear even through the language barrier. She struggled against the touches of interested parties, only her bonds keeping her from being able to strike back.

She'd yanked away from yet another impertinent squeeze when she finally saw a familiar face. It made her gasp, her thoughts latching onto the name that went with it in what might have been a prayer of salvation, but she had to get his attention. And if he was the one from this time, she couldn't just call him by name. Not his real name. Still, she knew one of those he'd used in the millenia he'd been hanging around pretending not to be an archangel.

"Loki! Help me!" The words were in modern english, and that was probably a mistake, but she was too distracted to try for something more appropriate to the era just now. She had to get his attention, maybe get the eager shoppers to give her some space. She had to get out of here.

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"I have been informed that my homely skills are atrocious and never to touch a loom again," she said, with a glitter of amusement. "I only burnt two loaves of bread past eating this week, and even managed to keep the stew from scorching for an entire day. Helga thinks that perhaps I shall even manage not to be a disgrace to the village by the time she dies."

It was a good joke to these people, the skillful artisan without any menial skills to speak of. The roar of hearty laughter from the table only emphasized that, and Helga, the headman's wife and nominal representative of the women's needs before her husband and the other leaders gave her a beaming smile. Everyone knew the trickster god had an interest in odd things and people, anyway.

"No worries, Loki, I'm keeping everyone quite entertained."

Hearing Helga's opinion makes Gabriel laugh. "I'm sure she'll figure out how to get you to be more competent outside the forge. Sure, there's already plenty of people available who know how not to burn bread, but that doesn't mean they'll always be around for whatever reason."

Claudia smiles, and a part of her wished she dared sit in her lap as some of the younger women did with the men they favored. The culture was quite open about flirting and other activities, although they did frown upon a woman not choosing someone when they found themselves with child. There were more than a few 'understandings' for the sake of marital bliss.

"I will continue my efforts as long as it does not hinder the welfare of my new people," she promised, in a mockery of formal style. "You know things were different where I come from, and few could hope to find this much welcome anywhere in my situation."

"Yes, no making people sick from cooking something wrong or burning something down, if you don't mind," he says wryly. "I'm going to want to talk to you later about what I've been up to."

"If I burn something, you'll know why," she teased, with a light smack to his shoulder. Sometimes it was hard not to treat Loki like her Gabriel. "Especially after some of those 'talks.'"

The last was more for their audience. She knew he was truly trying to help, but Claudia didn't know how long she could keep trying to live so far from home in both time and location.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at the smack although he doesn't comment. "No burning things down. I should probably let you get back to it."

"You know as well as I do that my place is here, serving you, at these functions," she said, dropping her eyes slightly in apology at her faux pas. It was more for the others, and damned if she didn't hate having to always be thinking about just how to act or not act. "Would my lord like anything more to eat or drink?"

Gabriel shakes his head. "I think I'm done."

At this point, he's just sticking around because there's other people still here.

"The latest tribute included an interesting mead from that brewer you favor," she commented, mildly, before continuing with a few other items of note to him. It should be business as usual, although she did wonder what he had managed to drag out of the shadows in his wandering this time.

Gabriel just nods his way through the things she says as he sips at his drink.

Once it seems things are finally wrapping up, he drains his drink and sets the cup aside. "I'll see you at whatever point your part in clean-up is finished."

"Of course," Claudia says, taking his personal eating and drinking items away to be personally cared for. She attempts to assist with the clean-up, but Helga decides before long that she shouldn't keep the god waiting, and shoos her off.

Claudia pauses to use the privy and a quick wash, wondering just when it had started to feel almost normal to live like this. She still missed hot showers and other modern conveniences, but the people here had a joy in life and their own skills that most lacked in her time. It almost saddened her to think that things like that had been lost in the name of progress.

Finally, she enters their home, a combination of stone and turf-brick construction that was surprisingly homey and warm. Larger than the others, of course, but not significantly more grand. Just touches that showed that the one who lived here was wealthy beyond measurement in the local standards. Stopping in the doorway to Gabriel's room, she looked at him, thinking deeply about her life.

"Ga--Loki?"

"Galoki?" Gabriel teases, looking over at her. "I finished up with this continent. And the part immediately east that's mostly sand. Looks like they went east to keep the Warehouse out of reach of the Romans. Smart. From the sound of some of the stuff locked up, no one wants them to have any of it."

"The stuff in the Warehouse, nobody should have," Claudia said, doing her best to ignore the teasing. She shouldn't have slipped up. That would have been dangerous.

"Ever heard that story about Pandora's box?"

"Do bears shit in the woods?" Gabriel asks drily. Yes, he's heard of that thing. Who, in the demi-god community, hasn't?

"Where do you think the box that holds all the hope of humanity is?"

"Locked where some moron can't use it to break the world," he says promptly.

"And there are only two places like that I can think of off-hand, and I don't think Zeus and his lot have any fondness for your father."

She knew she couldn't mention Gabriel's nature or name aloud, because that might carry to the metaphorical ears of those with the power to do things about it. He hadn't rebelled in the same way as his older brother, but she'd never found the stories of that family very reassuring.

"I'd consider the Middle Kingdom or one of its neighbors," she said, using one of the older names for China.

"No, they really, really don't. And that's where I'm planning on working my way to, yes." Gabriel takes a moment to mentally map out the path he intends to take before shaking his head. It can wait until another time.

He refocuses his attention on her. "You're actually doing all right though? Not just being polite outside?"

"I'm really all right," she says. "They're good people, why wouldn't I be? I'm a little homesick, but that's something that can't be helped."

She couldn't imagine trying to find herself a place with enough roots to live comfortably while they tried to find a way back. If it weren't for Gabriel, she wouldn't even have had that glimmer of possibility. "The women find it wonderful to have an example to encourage their daughters to actually learn to keep house, and a few of the young warriors have made comments that if I weren't yours, they might consider me. They're sweet, but I'm not interested."

"'If you don't learn how to maintain your house, you'll be reliant on others to make sure you don't starve'," Gabriel summarizes with a snort. "You're off-limits to them, yes."

He was aware of the thing she had for him, even if he was the wrong version. He studies her from where he was laying on his bed, hands folded behind his head. He has to admit he could see the future-him's interest on a physical level. Along with in terms of personality, even if she takes too many liberties from time to time.

And she misses the other him more sometimes because he is so close. The times when it's hard not to let the irreverence of a world that largely lives without gods showing in minor displays of seeming liberties. She does her best not to argue with him or tell him what he should be doing, and they don't talk about too much of what could change.

"You like taking care of my house when I have to be away, although you cheat most of the time." On the books, it was her house, since she paid for it, built it, designed all the elements to make sure the complex wards poured in with the concrete and built inside the walls were as complete as she could manage.

"Of course I do," he says promptly. "I was talking more what the women were basically saying to their daughters. Which, given the here and now, it is strange that you don't know how to cook with fire. Or bake bread properly."

"I know, but they aren't the kind of skills people learn in my culture," Claudia said. "It's as much as anomaly as my skill with decorative metalwork and bead-making. They're mostly accepting that there's more division of labor where you found me, and they also assume that I was one of the maidens like in the stories that had a father with enough wealth to not need his children to cook and clean when there were others who could."

It was a good enough story for them to live with, but she still had to learn those skills now, or be a potential burden in lean seasons. "I don't mind being an example. It also has helped that one girl with that amazing talent for weaving and dying have more time at those tasks. They can pretend she's making up for one of my many flaws."

Gabriel snorts at that, reading between the lines. "There's usually work for a smith. Granted, the kind of thing you usually do isn't always in demand but there's always branching out to help with metal things that need making. Like the rings for barrels, for example."

At least this group is aware that some people don't always fit within traditional gender roles, even if everyone can cook if needed, given the women aren't typically going to be brought along with war parties.

"I've been making most of the nails lately," Claudia said, never entirely certain just how much Gabriel knew of what happened in the daily lives of the people. "We've been basically trading off with my making things that use precision and not as much strength while he does the heavier stuff. And barrels take a lot of experience I don't have in getting them sized while still hot. Better I do nails and bow-caps and the like than take time and possibly waste metal learning something like that. The apprentices aren't ready to learn it, but if I'm still here when they do..."

That was another thing that had helped her acceptance. Her willingness to admit to needing to learn so much. "Besides, the decorative items will be good for the girl's dowries or for trading. Your people are expected to be blessed among men, after all."

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