Legends of Belariath
Ielenia
Ielenia's Story - Chapter Four
I stood trembling in fear and revulsion as people yelled out bids, I closed my eyes a wished for the room I shared with Alyssa and Tara. The taskmaster noticed my inattention in the reactions of the crowd and I felt the hot burning pain of his lash across my rear, it actually made me yelp and got a roar of approval. The worst humiliation came from the bids I was receiving, I had a reckoning of how much a slave of my skills was worth, and this was pitifully low. I guessed my fate would end up in some dockside whorehouse servicing sailors and thieves, and this made me shiver in fear. Even though a slave I had started taking pride in my skills and knowledge of swordcraft, and to realize that my life, and elves live long lives, would end in a smelly backwater brothel made my anger burn hotter. I knew I could fight, attempt to get free, and if lucky enough I would be killed in the attempt to recapture. Sylvan elves do not give up their lives easily, or eagerly. I was young still then, and had grown many years among humans and others, and had not achieved that level of farsightedness that most elves learn during their decades before adulthood. I was rash, hurt and a little to much pride, much like how elves often refer to humans as being. As my anger started to surface and I raised my eyes to those of the crowd, battle lust burning again in my green orbs. Knowing I would be killed at best and punished severely at worse, but filled with the need to do something to stop this. Then the crowd quieted as a ornate carriage pulled up behind them and a elegant human woman got out. Her dwarven guards quickly pushed their way through the crowd for their lady. Up she came and I found my anger fading as my curiosity, another elven trait, took hold and I studied her puzzled as she walked around me. She slapped flesh and "tisked" at a couple of light scars, for only the worse of wounds leave scarring upon elf flesh. She turned to the sputtering taskmaster as he asked if she would like to bid.
Her smile was sly and as mean as a tigers, as she replied " Why would I sell my own property?" He sputtered and she showed him a paper which made him pale. I saw the light of greed leave his eyes as his fat commission flew away. I was surprised and must have showed it, for her dwarves grabbed my wrists and rough tunic was pulled over my head, then my hands manacled tightly as she led me towards the carriage, where a I was tied in line behind with several other young human woman all looking miserable and one halfling girl who looked like death warmed over. We where forced to follow along as her carriage pulled away and led us towards the nearest gate away. Once again I traveled away from a place I had grown to love, both times in chains and being miserable. Outside of town we met up with the rest of my new mistress's servants. A ugly dwarf in spiked armor and ill tempered, A quick human man with a lean frame and subtle looks, and a dark cloaked one who moved much like a elf. Eventually when introduced to them I found out the dark cloak was a Shadowkin named Dejah, a slave hunter by trade. I felt fear well up inside myself at the thought of being in the hands of a Shadowkin again, but the fact he seemed subservient to my new mistress quieted me. Still Dejah took a interest in me immediately and spent much time talking quietly in elven to me even though I often refused to look much lesser answer him. I over heard Dejah asking Mistress Treesa about me one night as we slaves serviced them dinner. I chafed at the mundane tasks, wishing I had a sword. Dejah seemed to be interested in why she chose to buy a elf girl, I heard her say that a client of hers had a taste for them and wished on her next run to see if she could acquire one. Dejah only commented on how troublesome Elves can be and offered to buy me from her now. She laughed lightly and told him he couldn't afford what I had cost, and that I had better be worth every gold coin. Dejah Stalked away more than a little angry with her I do believe, I wondered at his interest, and with a sinking feeling I came to believe that a brothel, though not one dockside, was our destination. The other girls where all young and attractive, with 4 humans and 1 halfling making up the train. We where expected to take care of all their dishes, and wash their cloths as long as we where on the road. Though I never spoke much, we spoke softly when traveling amongst each other. We quickly grew to hate the rogues frequent visits as each time he spent more time touching us than talking, his rude comments and suggestions made the girls blush furiously but dare not protest, and I even felt my own ears burn at some of them. I learned that of all the girls I had spent the most time as a slave, and their looks of horror knowing I had spent over 2 decades as a slave, and their fates came crashing around them in as reality of what has happened took over.
Early in our third week of travel we where set upon by bandits, and as the guards and Dejah's men fought them I ushered the girls into the shelter of the back of the carriage and stood ready to defend them is worse came to worse. For I knew our fate among bandits would be worse than that of Mistress Treesa's brothel house. The fight was hard and I was shocked at the savagery the spiked dwarf produced, the sheer carnage and seeming insane attacks disturbed my well schooled fighting mind. Never would have my old teacher approved at such fighting, yet the dwarf accounted for more than half the bandits himself. Dejah I saw was a mage, and his dark magic accounted for a good number of the remaining bandits. Soon the bodies had been looted for what little they had and left behind as we where forced to move again. I heard Mistress Treesa comment about rewarding her faithful servants later that evening, as he glance stole over us. I felt shivers down my spine as Dejah's red eyes focused on me and I became mindful of how little flesh the rough tunic truly covered. I wished to sink into the ground or fade away from those eyes, but He turned and road off before true panic set in. That night we camped near a stream and our mistress had us all bath and comb our hair after we had served dinner, then we where brought to the center of the camp for the guards eyes to feast on. I felt sick as I watched the eyes of those servants greedily eat up each exposed thigh or swell of a breast. Dejah came forward first as their leader and roughly jerked my arm taking me towards his tent, I closed my eyes feeling panic and anger threaten to overwhelm the discipline I had been taught. The details of that night still make me sick, feeling helpless beneath my dark kin as he took his pleasure from my body. The way his red eyes stared into my green ones as he forced me to keep my eyes open so he could watch the revulsion in them. I truly hated this Shadowkin more than any other I had encountered, even the one who had captured me so long ago. And after he had spent himself on his pleasure I curled in the corner of the tent as far from his inky black skin as I could get. Somewhere inside of me I vowed to return this humiliation upon him ten fold.
Morning dawned bright and clear, making my sour mood even worse for it's bright cheerfulness, and the other girls seemed as withdrawn as I felt. Dejah parting slap on my rear as I left his tent to help ready the camp for moving burned still, and would continue to burn throughout the day as my humiliation carried me down darker and darker paths. My frown made the others laugh as the guards and our mistress seemed to enjoy our sourness. But the weary walking, and labor to set and break camp soon produced that familiar sense of detachment and resignation. Thankfully after that one night we where never required to bed the guards again, and several of the girls bounced back from the experience far faster than I. We traveled for several weeks before we came in sight of the deepest den of foul evil I have ever visited, and one place If I could have I would have burned it to the ground, the city of Northreach. A border town of minor influence and a dark hold of the foul shadowkin, bordering some mountains that for a instance I desperately wanted to recognize. Forgive me as I ramble for a second, but seeing the mountains again brought that longing to see my village, to find out if my parents had lived through that dark night. A idea to escape and see if perhaps these where my mountains, my home. But as foolish as I knew that was, I actually knew that it wasn't my home. We where detached by the guards from the carriage and led around the city while our mistress entered the main gate. As we entered the side door the leering gazes of the guards and made our way down the dirty filth strewn street my heart seemed to whither with each step. I had served the crowds of the arena's, earning their roars with my blood and sweat. To now be doomed to serve their lusts burned a deep hole in my soul. We where marched to a semi respectable, but flamboyantly painted house and led in. A beautiful but older human woman came and inspected each of us carefully.
Her name was Madame Lyselle and she ran the brothel we would be doomed to work at. As she spoke, telling us our duties and what was expected, another dawning horror started to creep on me. These other girls would soon be the tired, worn out women I saw sitting trying to appear seductive, but even those young girls would become old soon enough, and sooner still for the harsh life they where stuck in now. But I was still a very young elf, and even in this harsh life I knew it might be centuries before I started to show the wear and tear. CENTURIES!, the very thought made me almost fall over in a faint like no blow in the arena had even come close to. Then one glimmer of hope arose, as Madame Lyselle talked that we might eventually buy our freedom, but a look in her eyes told me she didn't really believe this possible. We where escorted to our rooms where we actually bathed and where dressed in gaudy gowns that left little to the imagination, our hair was styled and threaded with ropes of apparent gold and silver. Which of course we found out all would be added to our release price. Madame Lyselle even told me I had to let my hair grow, since I had been wearing it shoulder length for a long time for convenience sake. Even the required root to protect from pregnancy would be charged to our debt, and woe onto the girl who needed to be cured magically of disease. That would almost guarantee her a complete life of servitude. Finally collars where fitted to each of us, we where told not to mess with them for they where magically sealed, and with the right command words we would be forced to obey whoever spoke them. It sounded like a large boom when that collar closed around my neck, I felt the world taken from me.
I soon found out that Mistress Treesa's special customer was a pig of a merchant would always wanted to play with a elf girl, I hated him and his desires almost as much as Dejah's monthly visits, where he would remind me of his desire to buy me out of this slavery, and into a worse kind I was sure. One good thing came from the fat merchant though, he paid well for my body, and that was a good thing for I quickly learned I cost Mistress Treesa triple what the other girls did. The boorish humans and even the occasional Orc, oh how that made me puke afterwards and I couldn't get the smell off for a week, soon almost became routine as my mind learned to dwell on other concerns why my lips and body made the right responses. Years went by as some girls died, others got pregnant and where shipped off somewhere, and others grew tired and worn, the life gone from their eyes. The only constant was Dejah's monthly visits and revulsion I felt each time he took me to my room for his pleasure. things got darker still as the rumor went around that Dejah and his Kin where supplying our Mistress with incense and herbs to stupefy the mind and increase their pleasure. From the word going around several girls where being offered to the shadowkin in payment for the ever increasing price of these drugs.
I wondered at the light I would see in Dejah's eyes as he came by the last few months, and it took me some thought but I finally realized Dejah was using the drugs to get me. Why I had developed into a obsession with this shadowkin, I don't know but his perverse delight in humiliating me and making me concede to his whims seemed to never diminish in the least. One bright light in the dark pit I had fallen was when some thugs came in to steal, I managed to hold them off, in a gown and all, till the watch arrived and killed them. I was more than a little shocked that they weren't arrested, but then the guards got freebies for coming, My night turned into a worse one then as the sergeant seemed to have taken a liking to me. But the reason this was a light and not another dark spot, was that mistress Treesa heard of it and remembered I had been a trained as a fighter in the arenas. I was soon offered to help work off my debt to Mistress Treesa, I could fight in the arena. What can I say? a chance to fight, to let my rage flow against the life I was living, and to work off my debt to? I eagerly accepted, little did I know at the time how wrong I was.
The drug use got worse, and though I enjoyed time fighting in the arena, and even found out Mistress Treesa had all my equipment from Vistani. Things only got worse for the girls, and for me. Dejah showed up more frequently, sometimes paying for a entire weekend with me. Then I was borrowed for private shows in the shadowkins deep keep in the ground, one I was drugged up with pleasure drugs, and though I have no clear memory of what happened, the mere thought of it makes my stomach rebel and my knees go weak. I guess I should be thankful the drugs so blanked that night out, though I do have dreams of a dark cavern and laughing shadowkin in balconies and something dark and terrifyingly evil. I should move on before my resolve to write this wavers and I go back to the pleasant faces of the people in my province. All that happened though was setup by Dejah, he was manipulating my mistress for his own gains. One guard finally told me, that the next day in the games I would be facing two of the shadowkins best fighters, and the prize was myself. Dejah finally had put my mistress in the corner, the cold fear of what Dejah planned for me washed over me, he wanted to break the bright spark that kept me alive through my life as a slave. He had seen something in me and it has obsessed him since that first day, and now he would have what he wanted. My life would be crushed under his heel, all that I am stripped from me, and turned into a plaything for their amusement. I despaired so hard at that moment I almost took my life with a special spoon I had turned into a miniature dirk. That night though the guard who had warned me of tomorrows events gave me hope, he wanted to help me escape out of respect for the fights I had won in the arena. I knew he might be planted to trap me, but I had to take the chance, and if it was a trap, I would sell myself dearly and hope they killed me.