Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

Summary:Sheila has been captured. Venger must now decide what to do with her.

Thanks: Thank to Rana Kane for being my beta-reader. If not for her, this whole thing would have a lot fewer commas.

The Prisoner

By

D.B. Cooper

Chapter 2

In Trouble

Sheila woke up to the light slowly. When her eyes finally focused, she jerked back in surprise. Denora stood there, a torch in one hand and a large wicker basket in the other.

"I have food, water, and a change of clothes for you girl," Denora said.

"When you are done eating, I will see to your wounds again."

Sheila nodded in thanks, barely able to recall that this was the same person whom she had seen before. Denora did not seem unkind, and Sheila took the water and bread gratefully. Denora wiped the blood off the side of her face and saw to the wound. Afterwards, she put a bandage on.

When Denora was done, she got up quickly and left the room. Sheila was alone in the dark again, though no longer hungry at least. When Denora had been there, she had seen the small pot in the corner. She crawled on her hands and knees to it and made urgent use of it. She retreated to her bed and lay there, trying to sleep.

Try as she might, sleep would not come. Her mind was in a whirl. Venger had her! The others would come and rescue her. That was her best bet. All she would have to do was wait for them. For how long, was the immediate question. She was alone and scared in this awful place. Something ran over her hand in the dark and she brushed it away absently.

Was there any way to get out? The door would be guarded, and from what she had seen of her cell, escape was impossible. Besides, even if she could get out, there was still the matter of the chain to deal with. Plus, there was the fact that she didn't have her cloak. She had no choice but to sit there in the dark and wait.

Sheila sat in her cell for the next three days. It was the loneliest time of her life. Occasionally, one of the servants would bring her food. For the most part, she just sat there, huddled and alone, in the dark. She tried not to think about her friends or how much she missed them.

After what seemed an eternity, the dungeon door was throne open violently. Harsh light shone into the room. Venger stood there looking at her silently. Instantly, she crouched back on the slab and threw her hands in front of her face. Venger snapped his fingers, and instantly her wrists were bound together. She yelped in surprise as her hands were bound in iron and brought closer together in a split second. Venger snapped his fingers again, and the chain around her leg vanished.

"Arise," he said to her.

Sheila remained seated, but after a second of internal debate, looked up.

"I have not come here to harm you."

Sheila stood and looked down at the floor, not daring to look at him. He leaned forward and raised her chin with one finger. Her heart shuddered in her chest and she shut her eyes in fear rather than gaze on him.

"Look at me."

Steeling herself, Sheila opened her eyes. As she looked at the arch-mage, he looked back at her. His skin was not as blue as she had previously thought. He had beautiful black hair that cascaded down his shoulders. Looking at him closely, she realized that he was an extremely handsome man. Magic clung to him, and she thought she could almost smell it.

"Come with me," he said.

She stared at him for a long moment. Her heart was still hammering in her chest. He started to leave, and she followed him. As they walked out of the dungeons, Sheila plucked up her courage to ask a question.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Who are you to question me?" He stared at her impassively. A faint trace of annoyance in his voice.

"Be silent now and come with me."

They walked and walked. Sheila looked around to look for a means of escape. Even for later. It seemed like a good idea. But try as she might, they passed too many rooms too fast. Soon, they came do their destination. With a gesture, Venger ordered the Orcs to open.

Denora and twelve other girls stood there expectantly. The rooms had been ready for several hours now. All they would need was the addition of their new owner.

Venger spoke. "This is the Lady Sheila. You will all serve her and all of her needs. Do not fail me, any of you."

He turned to Sheila and looked at her for what seemed like a very long time. Then he gestured again, and her wrists were free. The arch mage disappeared in a burst of violet energy.

Sheila stood there, shocked, staring at her new servants. She rubbed her wrists where the chains had been. At the same time, Denora and the other servants appraised their new mistress. Her clothes were ripped and bloodied. A faint look of bewilderment was on her face.

"Let us serve you, my lady. First a bath, then a change of clothes, and then you may rest."

Sheila tuned her attention to Denora. Hesitantly, she nodded her head. Within minutes, Sheila sat in a huge bath, being scrubbed by several women. Spices, oils, and other things were thrown in the water with her. They mixed with the steam coming off the water. One of her new servants washed and rewashed her hair, gently pouring warm water over her head.

Sheila said nothing the entire time. The bath relaxed her, and some of the tension from sleeping on the stone slab seemed to drain out. Once done, the women toweled her dry and gave her a robe to wear. They then led her to a huge room and put her to bed. Worn out and still terrified from her ordeal, Sheila soon drifted off to sleep.

At the fourth mark, Denora woke Sheila.

"You must get up and decide what you are wearing to dinner tonight, my lady"

Sheila looked at her for a long minute before asking the first thing that came into her mind.

"What is you name?"

"Denora. I am the head of the servants here. You are the Lady Sheila who has just become our new mistress. Please don't ask any more questions. Just rise and come with me."

Sheila did as she was bade and rose from the bed. Denora led her to an already open wardrobe. Inside were simple dresses. Sheila simply picked the one that most closely resembled her own clothes. They were almost matching, except the boots were dyed a rich purple.

"Get dressed my lady, it will be time to eat soon."

Sheila again did what Denora told her to. In a way, she already liked the older woman. Somehow, she didn't think Denora would do anything to hurt her.

Denora beckoned Sheila forward to a table. One of the other women had already pulled a chair out for her. She sat down to a richly furnished table with ornate china plates. Looking at it, it took her a minute to realize that both the cups and silverware were actual silver. On further inspection, she realized that the table was set for two. What did that mean? She chewed on the interior of her mouth, trying to understand it. All the while, a sense of growing unease seeped into her mind.

In another violet flash of light, Venger appeared before her.

"Good evening Sheila. It is now the fifth mark, and time for our repast to begin. We have much to discuss, but much time to discuss it in . . . ."