Legends of Belariath
Enchantress
From as far back as she can remember, the three old hags that had reared her told her she was bound for great things. She couldn't fathom that she would be seen as a goddess of lust. . .sought out for advice on matters of the heart and worshiped by all in her homeland. She was really quite astounded that she had such a following considering she had none of the powers of a deity. In fact, the only true power she possessed was that of a more sensual nature. Just one touch from her could bring forth hidden desires and had been known to incite orgies. The temple built in her honor stood proud among the most fertile soil in the land. She wasn't a goddess that ruled from her throne. Quite the opposite. More times than not, her throne stood empty while she traversed the countryside speaking with those that had placed their faith in her. Her popularity among the people soared, but, alas, she was only mortal. One night as Enchantress lie sleeping, a jealous woman crept into the goddess's throne room and added hemlock to the wine decanter. Not knowing of the deception, when the enchantress awoke the following morning, she went about her usual routine. . .sipping wine and hearing stories of unrequited love. As the day wore on, she began to feel strange, almost lethargic but not quite that. After hearing the final complaint and offering advice, she stood only to fall to her knees as weakness besieged her. One of her most loyal guards picked her up and carried her to her chamber then sent for a well known healer. However, it was too late. The poison had worked its way into her system and was systematically shutting down all vital functions.
For several weeks, the mortal goddess languished despite the best efforts of the local healers. They had figured out the cause for the illness but didn’t have the means to reverse the damage already done. The ever faithful worshipers came to pray to any god or goddess that would hear their prayers. Alas, all prayers fell on deaf ears. The poison was too much for the mortal body to handle and the elven woman died. Her body was taken to the temple of the god of death, Moon Exile, and prepared. News of her demise spread through the land like wildfire. For many nights, those that had loved the golden goddess haunted the temple in hopes of seeing their beloved goddess one last time. Strangely enough, she wasn’t resurrected immediately. She was kept in the temple for almost a month. During that time, several things changed. She was replaced as goddess by the same woman that had poisoned her. She would find out many years later that an act of jealousy drove the woman to plan her death.
Finally, Moon felt the time was right to return the enchantress to the land of the living. None thought for a moment that she would resent the rude awakening. Resent it, she did. Feeling as if she had been betrayed by everyone, the woman stayed to herself, rarely seeing anyone. The exceptions were the two young girls that she had taken in and reared as her own. Try as they might, they could not talk the woman from her shell. As time passed, she began to see the toll her actions were having on the girls. They would appear to be happy until they gazed upon her in her desolate state. It was then that she decided that the time had come for her to continue with her life as though nothing had happened. That was perhaps the best thing that could have happened to the woman. She sought out her adopted daughters at the palace they had taken up residence. Almost as if the gods had preordained where she would end up, she became a part of the clan the girls had joined. The DeSade’s were everything she had ever missed in other clans. There she was allowed to be herself and accepted for who and what she was not what she could offer.
Not long after joining the DeSade’s, she was given the title of Courtier D’ Amour and elevated to the status of Countess. Many months passed with nothing of significance happening. People came and went. Her days were spent in relative quiet as she became accustomed to her new surroundings. Many days were spent in reflective thought, the bitterness of her death had faded into oblivion. Thinking back, she can’t help but wonder why she had been worshiped. It wasn’t as if her own life had been filled with the love of a special man. In fact, she hadn’t found a man that would love her for herself. Little did she know that all of that would change. Into her life walked not one but two men that sent her heart racing and her hormones raging.
For a long time, the beautiful elven woman fought with her own mind, unable to decide which man she loved more. Morganti was everything she’d always wanted in a lover. . .attentive, gentle when he needed to be, and he could dominate her when no one else could. He understood her desire to be handled less than gentle at times. . .even going so far as to punish her when she would let her temper get the better of her. From him, she learned that there are many ways to get what one desires the most. The way she chose to do that was use the gift of lust that she’d thought lost to her when she’d died. If she had been thinking, she would have known that natural gifts don’t just go away, but they do have to be relearned if not used. With Morganti’s guidance, she tapped into that part of her and began the slow process of rebuilding herself. When Morganti proposed, she gladly accepted, wearing the collar and bracelets that bound them together proudly.
The other man in her life, Cadoc, was the complete opposite of Morganti. Both men loved her beyond reason, and she loved both of them. Cadoc was strong-willed and very protective of her. Needless to say, when she would appear with lash marks on her body from punishments for doing something to displease her husband, Cadoc would begin to rant and rave. At one point, she had thought Cadoc had left never to return. During one of those times, she sought solace in the arms of Morganti. He proposed while Cadoc was away. Thinking Cadoc had betrayed her, she accepted but later had second thoughts when Cadoc returned beaten and bruised. The closeness they had shared was no longer there. He distanced himself from her again, and she didn’t have the heart to crack through that stony exterior a second time.
As time went by, hostilities in the palace began to rise. Torn in different directions, the enchantress thought it best to take her leave. So, early one morning, she packed her belongings and those of her children and moved back into her own home, leaving behind her husband. If he chose to follow her, she would always welcome him with open arms for she did love him dearly. She corresponded with her adopted daughters on a regular basis. That is how she found out the slave she thought so highly of had ran away. Leaving her son and daughter in the care of their father, she set out in search of the errant girl. She would pay dearly for leaving as she had. Many nights were spent in search of the girl. One land turned into another, then another still. She was just beginning to give up hope when she happened upon the bustling town of Nanthalion. After the obligatory questioning of a local citizen, she made her way toward the Inn. The woman hadn’t been in the best of moods. So, she didn’t press her luck. As she reached the Inn and stepped inside, it didn’t take her long to spot the fiery red locks of the slave girl sitting submissively before the fire place. Finally, her search had come to an end. She had found the one she had left her family to retrieve. Her one thought as she walked toward Chance was that the girl would pay dearly now.
Since her arrival in Nanthalion, others of the family she had left behind have followed. Together, they have all managed to save enough coin to buy land and commission the building of a keep and all reside there now. As with any family, they have their little spats. However, they will protect their own.....to the death if need be. To injure one is to injure them all. And their idea of vengeance is not something just anyone can handle.