Legends of Belariath

Tagalog

Where he had come from would be of interest to no one, nor how he grew or what he had done in his early life.  In truth, nothing of those early, violent years was of concern to anyone, even himself.  Leave it here, that they were long years, full of violence and loneliness.

His true life did not begin, until the day when he returned to the valley that he had for quite some time called home, only to find the small, cold creature, setting up house keeping in the cave which he had long ago taken for his own.  The cave was perfection.  It was high in the fut hills, and thus not so vulnerable to the spring floods.  Even the near by stream was of no worry, and why?  Because gravity, and thus water, ran down hill.  The small creature however, a duessa, he thought they were called, had taken up residence in the cave, and was even sitting perched atop the pile of stones which Tagalog himself had so often used as a chair, a place to relax. 

The creature sat there, as though she belonged, and in the same moment, two opposing emotions set themselves to war within the vast rock troll.  There was anger, at finding her here in his place where she did not belong, and treating it as though it were hers, as though she belonged.  There was also a desire like he had never felt or understood before, not just a desire to claim her and join with her in the way that male and female joined in either love or lust, but rather, it was was a never before experienced sensation, a desire not to fuck, or not only to fuck, but rather to possess to own her and make her his own.  Together, the two emotions, anger and want, warred inside his mind, creating yet a third heretofore unknown sensation, though this one at least he had a solid name for, a name he had heard during his mercenary days.  This feeling was called, chaos, and it made him smile, all be it rather wickedly.

He stood there, cloaked in the shadows which coalesced and joined in such a way as to turn the cave's entrance into an impenetrable black hole, hiding him from her sight and turning him into just another piece of  the towering stone in the night.  He watched her, thinking, remembering.  Somewhere in his rough carry sack was a but of rough iron that had once been a collar.  He vaguely remembered when he had gotten it, plucked it from the ruins that had once been a forge, somewhere in the eastern mountains during his seemingly unending travels from one  coast to another.  He had known when he found it, what it was supposed to be, though at the time, he had no interest in slaves.  Rather, he had used  the thing as a throwing disk, a tiny amusement between travels and battles.

Now, he thought he might at last use the thing for its designed purpose.  He considered all he knew of duessa, for one look at her eyes and he was certain that was what the creature was.  These creatures were a living game.  They enjoyed pain, and manipulation.  So, how to claim one as his own?  Demonstrate that he could over power her, cause her pain, which was the easy part.  That was only a matter of bending, perhaps breaking her body.  The more difficult part would be to bend her mind, though he thought it possible.

First things first.  There would need to be a bit of shock and awe, which was to say that he would need to catch the girl off guard.  He moved in long, slow steps.  His calloused feet scraping lightly against the  rough floor, issuing no more sound than would a pebble fall, spilling lightly against the side of the hill.  He was not silent, but rather, the sound was simply nothing worth noticing.

The tiny woman slid down from her perch upon his seat if stacked stone, and moved with liquid grace across the cave to the area of flat stone where he often built his cooking fire.  In fact, that was what she was using the place for now.  There was a fire burning there, a pot of something that might have been either stew, or wash water.  No matter which, it made no difference to him, for he had chosen this moment to make his move.

Tagalog stood silently, just behind the female creature.  Slowly and silently, he reached out with one hand.  Before she had even a moment to realize that she was caught, his fingers curled into that silver black hair and tugged.  Using  that point of grip not unlike a leash, or perhaps more, a whip, he tightened the muscles in his arm, and swung, driving her side long into the rigid stone wall of the cave.  There she was pinned, and with his entire body weight against her, he was on her, taking her, raping her.

When they were done, both of them exhausted in pleasure and pain, the female little more than a quivering, bleeding and broken lump of flesh.  The body was broken, but her mind, fogged with pleasure and pain though it may be, was still operating well.

"Who, why?" 

These were her questions.  Not for the first time, the creature  that was Tagalog, used to his advantage the preconceptions other races held about his own, and became the dumb, lumbering vision of the rock troll. 

"I Tagalog."  he muttered, in a voice that was more heard than felt, a voice that she would feel vibrating through her bones.  "Why for little woman in Tagalog cave?"

He watched as intent and seeming understanding crystallized within her dark, mischievous and malevolent eyes.  She thought she understood, thought that she had him.

"Was not your cave.  Was empty when I got here.  Why not go away and find a different cave to live in?  The mountainside is riddled with caves after all."

Tagalog caught the one word from her babble, that would serve his purpose, and pretended to misunderstand.

"Riddle?  Little woman likes riddles?"

She nodded of course, and an idea came to her, or perhaps it was the idea which the troll had meant to plant within her mind.

"Yes!"  She cried out and then said in a slinking, slithering, sibilent whisper meant to beguile the creature of stone like skin that stood before her.  "Why should we not play a little game of riddles, and she who should win, keeps the prize, yes?"

"What prize would lady take should she win the game?" asked the troll, rather than what prize she might give.  For he knew what prize he would claim at the end of this game, and not the game she thought they played.

The pair of them played together for some small town, tossing riddles back and forth, one to the other and back again, and each time, he allowed her to think that he might be beaten, that she had perhaps stumped him before  he finally threw back the answer in uncertain tones, and with each answer she became even more certain that she had him, and that she would come away with the prize.  Finally, the troll tired of the game, and so called forth what would be his final riddle.

"What is it that has no end and no beginning?"  he asked.

The girl paused barely a moment before answering pridefully.  "The life of a duessa!"  she said, and then added, as if to pour salt inside a wound.  "and the libido of a nymph."

He smiled sadly, and then, "There, see?  I am beaten."  and for the moment he sounded and seemed not half as plodding, fearfully stupid as he had a moment before.  "Perhaps you would allow me to give to you a gift before I leave my home?"

The duessa nodded, and greed shined in her eyes so bright that she was too distracted to hear or heed the change within his voice.  She turned away scornfully before speaking to him.  "Perhaps, if your gift is well enough, I might offer you a final night within this cave before I send you away from my home."  she said coldly, pleased to have beaten even this oaf.  "Come now, give me this gift before I grow impatient."

It was then that he drew the rough iron collar silently from his carry sack, careful not to allow the lock to jingle.  He wrapped it then around her throat, and with the strength of a troll, bent it closed.  "The gift I give you,"  he said deeply, "is the answer to my final riddle.  That which has no beginning, and yet no end, is a circle.  A collar."

Thus was the cold whisper beaten, both in mind and body.  The next day did he carry her over his shoulder, swatting her ass with every step to the slave authority, and to the shock of both she and the official, signed his name to paper, and claimed her for his slave.  Thus too, did Tagalog's path begin, the path of chaos, which would bring him in time, to serve the god of the mountain, the god of Chaos.

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