To the Flame...

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To the Flame...

Postby Aerin on Thu Sep 27, 2018 12:13 pm

The usual bluster and bustle of the Cat and Mouse tavern were muted that night, as all around listened with rapt attention as the young redheaded girl, barely in her majority, sang her songs. While it wasn’t particularly rare for the Cat and Mouse to have entertainment, this one was different, her voice strong, her body beautiful. Few of the commoners who frequented the place realized it, but they were seeing a Mermaid for the very first time.

Most just stared in awe, both at her beauty and at a music beyond anything they’d experienced, but two in the corner barely glanced, though she was very much on their minds. The two men, a High Elf and a Red Winged Torian, spoke to each other in hushed tones, so as not to be overheard.

“That’s the girl, eh?” The Torian said with a smirk. “I’m surprised at you, Thuril. You typically know better than to enrage the clans, and this might be one of the few ways to do so. You visit the Sisters too often to have their anger in your direction.”

“She is with me of her own will, or so she thinks,” The Elf said, shaking his head. “Her mother disagrees with her choice but recognizes her ability to make it. But that does put me in a bit of a bind.”

The Torian laughed a little louder. “In a bind of no bindings or obvious coercion, then? Must always appear to be her choice? Poor, poor fool.” He glances up to the stage. “Better to simply sell her to someone and be done with it. She’ll be more trouble than she’s worth, in the end.”

“No,” Thuril said harshly. “You see her, hear how she sings. The girl was meant to be a muse, a true Siren if she reaches her full potential. I must have her. ME. She is worth more to me then ten of her would be to any common slaver.”

“You bards,” the Torian chuckles. “Always with the hyperbole. Very well, I can see about what I can do, though obviously it will have to be after her performance. You will arrange the meeting?”

“Yes, yes,” Thuril says, taking a drink of his wine. “Payment in the morning. Less if she is harmed, none if it doesn’t work.”

“Fifteen up front…” The Torian demands. “For my time and magic, or you can bloody well try it on your own.”

Thuril frowned, then pushed coins across the table. “Done. I’ll let you know when she is ready.”

The Torian grinned. “She’ll never be ready. Not for this.”

-----

Aerin frowned a bit as she walked up to the door of what was meant to be her room. “It is late, Thuril,” she said softly, not wishing to wake the rest of the clientele. “Couldn’t this wait for morning, or…”

“He leaves very early,” Thuril said in slightly less hushed tones, too much the Bard to ever be quiet unless his life was on the line, and even then only with difficulty. “He is a storyteller of the highest order, and this is the time he has. Do as he bids you and then come see me, and we will recount what you have learned.”

Aerin nodded. “Yes, sir, of course,” and then walked through the door. Sitting in the room’s one chair was a tall, red-winged Torian who watched her with eyes that she could only describe as hungry.

“Come kneel before me,” he said, his voice not quite harsh, but clearly brooking no disobedience.

“You are Ellande?” She asked, timidly.

“Obviously,” his voice rasped. “And I gave you an instruction, student. Kneel.”

Taking a deep breath, Aerin stepped before him, and then knelt at his feet. She didn’t understand, but hadn’t understood much since coming to live on land. Thuril demanded much and explained little, but there could be no denying that her songs had grown stronger under his tutelage. “Yes, sir.”

“So you CAN follow instruction,” Ellande muttered to himself. “And even show some proper respect, which is more than I can say for most girls your age. Very well, we have little time, and so let us begin.”

He reached out his hand, and stroked her cheek. She blushed under the attention, her look confused. “I’m sorry…” she said, trying to keep her pose, “but what has this to do with learning about…”

“This,” he said with a suddenly predatory look on his face, and opening his hand, there in it flickered a simple flame.

Her eyes went wide as it flared in her face, and started to retreat, but his other hand reached out to grab her shoulder, holding her in place. “What… what are you doing?” She asked, desperately trying not to panic. Thuril had been so sure of this man!

Ellande smiled. “It isn’t going to burn you, child, so you need not fear it, despite your kinds weakness to it. Just watch it.”

“But how… how will this help…” the flame flickered in her eyes, and she felt her pulse seem to match the flicker.

“You can’t help the fascination, can you?” His voice seemed to echo in her ears. “Can’t but be fascinated, that which is so dangerous and foreign to one who lived her life between the waves. Watch it’s flickering dance, feel as it feeds off of your breath and mind, bathe in its light as it reaches through your eyes, past your mind, to your very soul.”

Aerin’s mouth opened slowly as the light flickered before her. His words were still there, past the light she could see his mouth moving, but what they said seemed to bypass her ears and go somewhere else. The fear was ever present… she’d learned, first hand, the pain that fire could bring her, but it was only a minor thing, it held her still, held her gaze, flickered onwards, and onwards, as she soaked up his words like a sponge left out in the rain.

--------

“She did quite well,” a voice said. Aerin blinked. The light had gone, and she was in the hallway again. She shifted uncomfortably… her clothing fit oddly, as if it had been put on hastily by someone else, but she’d put it on herself, hours ago.

Hadn’t she?

Thuril was standing before her. Of course he was. She had finished her training and come to see him, as he had instructed. It was important to do as he instructed. How else could she learn?

“And the results?” The elf asked, gazing at her with a look that spoke of reluctant skepticism, but also barely restrained impatience.

“You will see for yourself,” the voice replied. Aerin glanced up. It was Ellande, the Torian. His voice seemed large, somehow, in his ears. Thuril spoke and Aerin had trouble focusing on his words, as if Ellande’s were bigger, mattered more.

“I said,” Thuril repeated, irritated. “Come in, girl, and let us see what you have learned.”

Right. Aerin felt, for a moment, as if she should wait for Ellande to dismiss her, but that was just silly. Thuril had given her an instruction, and she should always try to do what Thuril instructed her to do. She walked in, with barely a worry of the door closing and locking behind her. It was Thuril’s room, she had no key, but needed none. He would see to her.

“I have given Ellande your room for the night,’ Thuril said brusquely. “You will be staying here, and thus have no need of it.”

Aerin blinked at that. Thuril had made no secret of appreciating her body, in the comments he made, the outfits he had her purchase, but she’d always insisted that she was his student, not his bed warmer. Surely, she was entitled to her own room, especially considering it had been paid for from her own performance...

A candle flickered before her eyes. “Yes, sir.” She replied.

His eyes widened slightly, and a small smile appeared on his face. “Good. Now. As you are my student, I am entitled to a part of all your earnings. You are to do as you are told, to sing as I command, when I command, where I command, as we hone your abilities. I will hold your money for you, and pay for things as needed, you need not worry your head about that, yes?”

The light continued to flicker. She absently reached for the coin purse hanging from her belt and handed it to him, feeling as if she was drifting in a dream. She’d always insisted on paying for things herself, being self sufficient as mother had taught her. It didn’t matter. “Yes, sir.”

He stepped forward. “Now, remove your clothing, girl. As long as you are my student, my time will be spent with you, rather than others who might object to your presence. It is only fitting, then, that you use your body to fulfil my needs, so that I might not go without. You will sleep in my bed, wear what you are told, and fuck as I tell you to. Understood?”

This was ridiculous. She was his student, not his… not his… the light still flickered. She struggled against it. She wasn’t a sex… slave… was she?

It flickered again, and she sighed, as if freed from a terrible burden. “Yes, sir.” Her dress was off in moments, and as she laid back on the bed, feeling his hot breath as he climbed on top of her, she wondered if her training had gone as planned. After all, she hadn’t even been asked to recite a single story. Oh well, this was what Thuril wanted.

And she’d always do as he instructed. It was the only way to learn.

--------

Once again, the Cat and Mouse was full of song, and the stunned onlookers eagerly paid money to keep it going. At the table in the back, Thuril eagerly pushed over a bag of coin. “You’ve more than earned it,” he said. “Again tonight?”

Ellande shook his head with a smile. “You need to give it time. Let her current programming take hold, and then we can try again. A couple weeks, maybe a month. Why, what were you wanting?”

“She did as she was told,” Thuril explained, “But no energy yet. She was merely following orders. I want her to want to serve, to need it. For it to become a part of her very being.”

Ellande frowned. “That’s dangerous. Then any might seek to take her, and she would welcome it. Until the collar was around her neck, there would always be the danger of her giving herself to another, and if the right nobility decided they wanted her,” he chuckles. “It might go badly for the owner who chose to be selfish in his possession of her.”

“It will never happen,” Thuril insisted. “Can you do it, or can’t you?”

“It may take a full year of monthly sessions,” Ellande finally sighed, “But yes. She is drawn to the flame. I’ve never seen another take so readily to it. Yes, I can make her the perfect slave.”

“The perfect muse,” Thuril said, sitting back, looking up at the stage where the girl delighted all who watched her. Let them watch. The day would come when her songs were for him alone.

“Perfect.”
Aerin
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