It was a humid day in the city. Being amongst the topiaries and shrubbery, Leto found himself at his usual place beside his charge. The hints of tea and incense were carried gingerly on the ocean zephyr. It was far subtler than the lawn's lushness and pollen that made his skin itch. Blades stuck through his britches and felt like barbs that refused to bend to his weight. He defiled them. Breaking off individual pieces of green and crushing them, letting the dampness of the chlorophyll spread across the tips of his long fingers.
He listened to the rumblings of guardsmen and servants alike as they passed. They spoke in elevated whispers and anticipated an incoming gesture from the girl. Adria never acknowledged them. Her eyes were wholly devoted to the book laid in her lap. The rustle of pages turning in rapid succession was poignant in the fact that she had grown bored of the tome and its teachings and yet she remained scanning the pages without reading anything.
She had grown into a fragile young woman and all he wanted was to break up the monotony of the day for her. The utterance of celebratory conversation did little to turn the tide of unemotional acceptance. He'd watched her grow from this mousy little adolescent into a slender and precocious young adult. They spoke little and while he remained in her company, he could sense the tumultuous emotions that had started to stir within her. The closer the day of her birth approached, the more withdrawn she became. She smiled less and what words were exchanged between them was brusque and worrisome.
He knew that the day was fast approaching and that even for Danarius it was a battle for control not to deflower the young girl the first chance he got. Leto had endured it in her stead and had only wished that it never truly had to happen, but the inevitability was very real and for him the anticipation of her transformation from simple, cloistered lass to full mistress of his master was one that he couldn't fathom.
She was young, naïve and still very much innocent. Even with her snarky and intellectual personality, he saw the one thing that many others didn't: she was still a scared girl. The same one that had entered the fold against her will and had no idea how things worked. Yet she remained, taking up the slack of many others. She was defensive, biting and could be completely and utterly ruthless when matters demanded, but that mechanism kept her going. She was putting on a show for them and he knew that she didn't revel in participating in whatever acts Danarius had imposed upon her.
She sat beside him in the grass and fumbled with the fine lacing of her gown. She was nervous and fretful of the coming evening. The shifting breeze caught her scent and wove it into the air in a calming and enticing aroma of dragon's blood and her natural essences.
"I hate to ask but..."
Nothing good ever came from those words. He cringed and awaited the fated conclusion of her thought. They never spoke about what happened to him. It was a topic both wished not to tread for obvious reasons. The thought of their master defiling him most nights was one he hoped to forget after each session. He snapped at her, defensively for drudging up those disgusting thoughts and avoided her every attempt to get an answer from him. He couldn't meet her eye, for all the woeful admissions he would usually make, this one particular issue made him unaccepting and cold.
She neared him, getting lower than he. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. She bit her lip and those eyes that haunted his dreams stared up at him questioningly. She was taunting him. She had that way about her. She didn't have to say anything, the expression was right there looking him in the face; imploring some soothing word to calm her nerves. She was fearless when necessary, but it completely contradicted the sadness and utter hopelessness that had scarred her soul. She was a mystery to him. She never spoke about her past and for all intents and purposes wrote it off as it happening to another person in another life.
"I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for you," she stated.
She had to be kidding. He was the only one willing to undertake the prospect of abuse from Danarius for the sake of another. He was confused and when it finally sunk in what she was intending to do, he grew furious. She had no right to martyr her body and soul to that bastard. While he wasn't content with the constant bodily harm that was inflicted on him, he surely didn't want her to have to undergo it for the sheer consideration of his well-being, but here she kneeled and honestly made her claim on the rite that would be forced upon her.
She had bared witness to the causatum that followed Danarius' indulgences. The smell of sweat and blood, the wounds inflicted and to remain calm enough to render slight assistance when the healer would come to patch him back together.
She stayed by his side while their master cleansed himself of the elf's filth, leaving them alone with the mage. It was the first time that he had truly noticed that she was showing affection towards him. The healer had completed his task and bowed his way out to gain his compensation for services and they were finally alone. Adria ran her fingers through his hair as he lay on the bed beside her. He never looked at her. The shame was too great for him to acknowledge and to have her see the torment it placed on him. He never made a sound and the implications that she was by his side him regardless of what happened was a release he didn't think he'd find.
He had to get away from her. The more she probed, the more the memories contorted into thoughts of duplicating events happening with her in his position. The tears that she would shed, the pain, the torture and the delight that Danarius would extrude from watching her slow demise as he made her fulfill her task. And those eyes- the spark would be gone from them forever, leaving a husk of a girl to pick up the pieces. He would have to look into them on a daily basis and know that she had died countless nights in the arms of that man.
He grew restless in his skin and the closer she got to him, the further he had to flee. He couldn't let her do it to him and to herself. If he knew a way to stop it, he would. The fates drew closer around them and with the final images of Danarius on her in ways that he couldn't conceive, he bolted. He had to clear his head, but the images were burned into his brain; the remains were created by the self-inflicted wound of a cruel imagination.
I'm supposed to protect her. But I can't protect her from him.
Adria chased him down. She was never more than a few feet away from him. They were attached and what happened to one, the other felt. It was a sickening notion, but when she spun him around, he knew that deep down, she had settled on someone that had provided her the companionship that she had craved. She muttered her peace and in his mind he saw that six year old looking up at him. She hadn't changed all that much. Even though they stood nearly eye to eye with each other, she was stronger than he perceived. The firm grasp of her hand on his arm, that spoke harkened the natural trepidation of her words in uncharacteristically saddening ways.
They were so close to each other that he fought the powers that be to not reach up and touch her. She had always led the way in that department and while her caresses were mutually beneficial to the pair, he never initiated the interaction. He remembered the first time she touched him. The awkwardness that ensued in a tumultuous and nerve-wracking exhibition of caring. Every day afterward, he wanted it and now she stood in front of him trying to muddle through the hard words without overtly coming clean with him.
The storm rained down and it never seemed to end. Lightning crackled across the sky in streaks of hot white tendrils. Thunder roared from the heavens above and shook the ground with each concussive strike. The rain was ice cold and not made any better by the typhoon-like winds. It felt like needles that tore at his skin. He was bombarded by small icy pebbles that welted his bare skin. He shivered and looked at Hadriana standing under the covering on the patio.
She looked pleased with herself and only shook her head with her hate saturated grin.
"Danarius would have your head if he knew what you did," she yelled. Her voice was barely audible over the dissonance that surrounded them. He bit his tongue, not wanting to exacerbate the situation any further. He fumed at her. Danarius should have been there and while she was probably right that the ends would be far worse than what they were right now, it would have been a hell of a lot quicker to accept than the drawn out affair that Hadriana had decided to inflict upon him. "Why did you do it?"
Leto harshly exhaled a couple of times. There was no real explanation as to why he did what he did. He just did it and he hadn't done it alone. D'lara- his elven accomplice- had committed the deed, but because of their friendship he decided that he should take the fall to protect her. He gathered his thoughts and looked into the bedroom window. Adria stood there watching from a distance. He glared at her before turning his attention back to the woman.
"It was her fault," he snapped and pointed accusingly at the child on the upper level.
"Really? What could she have done so bad that you had to do that?" she questioned.
She showed him the dismembered remains of Adria's miniature golem doll. They were cleanly severed into numerous pieces. The fluff spouted out in tufts of white and small hair like strands fell to the ground at her feet. She folded her arms and stared at him. Her weight shifted from side to side and the tight fitting gown left little to the imagination.
"Does it matter?" he argued.
His muscles ached from the cold and the goosebumps that covered his exposed skin cause pain from his overly taut flesh. He tried to remain still, but the more he tried the harder he shook.
"No, it doesn't," she said with a shrug. "Danarius will be back tomorrow afternoon. If you survive the night out here, I won't say anything to Danarius about it. If not- then it won't really matter; now will it?"
She walked inside, slamming the glass doors and locking them shut. The elven boy examined the window again and still the girl remained. This time her hands were pressed against the glass. She was watching him and he felt her eyes catching his torment. He closed his eyes when the gales blew misty droplets into his eyes. When they opened- she was gone, but the fires still burned brightly in the chamber.
Shattering glass drew his attention to the double doors. Adria was grabbing both handles and shaking the door back and forth violently. He frowned and wrapped his blistering arms around him to shelter his already drenched body from the cold. A guard approached and unlocked the door for the young one. He scolded her for breaking the panel of glass, but she shrugged him off. She ran to the rain soaked elf with her cloak in her hand and wrapped it around him.
The rain pelted it but it was warm and mostly dry for the most part. The girl, on the other hand, was saturated with the falling water. Her night shirt clung to her and her properly kempt hair hung in her face. She quaked from the frigid temperatures, but remained at his side. He kept eyeing her for signs that she would return inside, except she huddled next to him.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked through chattering teeth. He pulled the wrap around him tighter. "You don't need to be out in this."
"I know it wasn't you that did it," she told him. "You don't deserve to be out here."
"You know nothing, Adria," he growled. "Just go inside."
The eight year old, glowered at the ground and sighed.
"If you're staying out here, then I am too," she said defiantly. Her expression changed to a glum and lost one. "Please, Leto; let me stay with you."
He wrapped her up in the cloak. Her arms wrapped around him the pair shivered for what felt like hours. He could feel her growing weak and he pulled her closer to him to keep her standing. His legs ached and he could barely breathe with how tightly she was holding him. He couldn't take it anymore and as gently as he could he led her to the ground to sit beside him. The hail thudded the water logged cloth. He huddled around her, protecting her from the barrage of falling ice.
"Oy, kids! What are you doing out here?" the guard captain called to the vibrating mass. Leto looked up at the man, unable to speak any longer. "Did Hadriana do this to you two?" The boy nodded and brought Adria closer to him protectively. "You go inside. I'll take care of this. Just remember to lock Master Danarius' door when you get there. You don't need her to come in. That would be… bad."
The lass stood up awkwardly without a word and led Leto inside by the hand. They were too tired and cold to care whether Hadriana caught them. The interior of the house was hot compared to the environment outside. Her pruned fingers searched the inside of her slipper and pulled out a key. The lock clicked and she forced the door open. The shivering princess closed the door so quietly that the latch seemed to echo off the walls.
Adria pulled her night shirt off in front of him. He spun around embarrassed by the exposition.
"You need to dry off," she stated.
"I'll be alright."
He watched the fire and caught a glimpse of her small frame disappearing behind a screen in the mirror. When she came back into view, she was in one of Danarius' shirts. It hung off her shoulder and stopped just below her knees. She hopped onto the bed and scurried under the blankets. He smirked at the peeking eyes that loomed just over the top of the comforter.
"Well, you can't come to bed like that. Don't you have anything in here?" she chirped.
"Just small clothes," he answered with a shrug.
"Then put those on and get into bed. You don't want to get sick," she muttered.
The lad disappeared behind the screen and removed his drenched coverings. He stood there nude as he scoured the small drawer for a change of underwear. Giggling caught his attention and he spun around. Long black hair hung from the side of the screen and obscured two large eyes. Leto blushed and waved her away. She disappeared and when he finished dressing he hopped into the bed beside her. It was an unusual feeling to be at the head of the bed.
Adria sunk under the blankets and rested her head on the downy pillow.
"Night," she chimed.
He rolled away from her and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. The fires danced and the exhaustion started to take hold. His eyes grew heavy and he yawned. He sighed and just before he fell asleep a jolt startled him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Adria buried into his back and sounds of soft crying were heartbreaking to experience. Her arm fell over his side and pulled him closer to her. Her shallow breathing hit his spine while small fingernails clawed at his weathered young skin. He interlaced his fingers with hers and soothed her while she slept.
When she rolled away from him, he followed suit, pulling her close to him and sweeping away her black locks from her face. She muttered in her sleep and stirred just enough to eke a smile out. He didn't sleep that night. He was enraptured by her. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a normal life. He was going to savor this moment while Danarius was gone. She didn't have to run out there, but she did regardless. He watched her sleep until the dawn broke. He never let her hand go, she needed him there right then.
"You're rambling," Leto quipped.
"Shut up," Adria grumbled.
He knew what she was saying. She didn't have to be blatant about it and while she stumbled and fell over her thoughts, he thought it was cute and scary at the same time.
D'lara interrupted his train of thought by reminding him that he had to help set up things for dinner. He excused himself and that was a sharp enough dagger for the girl who had left her vulnerability open enough for him to damage it. She shifted cautiously and nodded.
"Save you some cake?" she asked as he walked away.
"Wouldn't miss it," he answered over his shoulder.
He strolled into the kitchen and came face to face with a glaring D'lara. He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with her. He shuffled around grabbing everything they would need to prepare.
"You need to stop," D'lara said with a sigh.
"Stop what?"
"That thing you have going on with that girl," she snapped as she chopped through the bone of a thick roast.
"What thing?"
"You know damn well what thing?" she growled. She pointed the blade at the elf threateningly. "She is way above you and you seem to forget that. Can't you set your standards to something more fitting of your station?"
"What do you mean?" he queried. D'lara resumed her work and then it dawned on where she was going. "You? I have considered it. But when would I have the time?"
"Once that little dog lord bitch is doing what she's doing, he won't need you and then that could open up the possibility of-."
"We can't talk about this right now," he cut her off before she could finish. "My job is to look after her that's all."
"It doesn't look like that. You seem to be getting too close and I'm not the only one to notice it," she remarked, throwing the cooked meat onto the serving platter.
"Why are you arguing with me about this? There is nothing going on between us."
"Fine. Fine. If you want to lie to yourself then that's your problem. It's your neck on the line anyways. I just thought I'd tell you that maybe you should be looking to someone who has been nothing but completely devoted to you."
"D'lara," he murmured. He grabbed a rag and cleaned his hands off. "We can discuss it once dinner is done."
He grabbed the stack of plates and silverware and headed for the dining hall. His ears picked up the sound of her raving as the door shut between them. He was glad to be rid of the incessant nagging that seemed to get exponentially worse with each passing day. Adria had nothing to do with what his friend was suggesting and while her intentions were good, the way she posed those thoughts was completely off based and biased. The hints of jealousy and seething hatred that spurned those words of quiet contemplation were more flagellating to him than to her.
They dined. The birthday girl was in her finest as she glanced at the food and meekly prodded it. She was pale when Danarius spoke to her and she had rejected his offering for cake. It was uncharacteristic of her and as she looked up at him, he knew that tonight was indeed the night. His heart raced and when the magister left the table to prepare himself, Adria sat there alone. He approached her, not listening to the warnings of D'lara from behind him.
He caressed her back. The bony protrusions of her backbone peeked just slightly through the thin fabric of her dress. The deep blue shimmered faintly in the candlelight and her dark makeup made her deep green eyes all the darker with its black-rimmed eyeliner. He was making every attempt to make her feel better and without warning she threw her arms around him and sobbed.
He froze in place and listened to the soft sobs and muffled words that escaped her. She was speaking her native tongue and he was lost to it. The meter at which it was spoken was hardly decipherable from what little she'd taught him. He hushed her and held her for a moment.
"Adria," he croaked. His throat became tight and no matter how many times he tried to swallow, the knot wouldn't dislodge itself.
"I know. I know," she muttered.
She dried her eyes and he accepted the fact that time had run out for the both of them. He led her to the stairs and let her ascend the steps alone. This was something that he couldn't help or protect her from. She kept glancing over her shoulder at him and when she reached the top she paused and gave him one last hurtful glance. With that lingering picture to haunt him, she disappeared and the last sound he heard from where he stood was the door shutting.
His heart came to a stop and he waited for the inevitable truth to hit him. He knew that Danarius wasn't going to have a care or concern about her well-being from the get-go and every urge he fought off told him to stop her. Yet it was too late and his hands were tied.
"So I was right," D'lara remarked as she stood beside him.
"Shut up," Leto snapped.
He ran up the stairs and was hit by dreadful sounds emanating from under the door. He listened, unable to escape it. The grunting and crying that escaped from the crack. He broke as she screamed in agony and the sound of a slap landing on bare flesh made him jump back. The sounds were enough to paint the picture that would be etched into his mind. He argued with himself to not open the door and see it for himself. He rested his head on the door and shuddered. He was so close and yet so far away. She was defenseless to stop it and the beating continued.
Muffled voices haunted him and he couldn't listen to it. As much as he wanted to put an end to it, the deed was done and that small girl would be a different person by the time it was all over. Her innocence lost in a violent act that she had no control over. He wouldn't have treated her in such a way if it was him and that delicate lass would be the last person he wanted to hurt in such away.
It grew quiet and Leto held his breath. Pressing his ear to the door he listened to the scuffling from within. The somber crackling of wood in the fireplace and heavy breathing that seemed to radiate in all directions. The grunting and groaning continued by the all too familiar staggered breathing that meant they were nearing the finish. His eyes burned and he pictured her lying there, motionless, possibly unconscious from the assault. Her torn and broken body, left to fade on the expensive silken sheets. He slammed his eyes shut and scowled, begging for the images to disappear and leave him in peace. Yet they didn't ebb for him. They grew more insistent and angry, violent and almost exploratory.
Footsteps approached the door and he hurried away to the study and hid just inside the door. He stuck his head out and saw Danarius walking out of the room, his hair damp with sweat and a look of satisfaction on his aging face. Leto waited for him to reach the main floor before moving. He took diligent steps and followed the crying all the way to the egress of the master chamber. The smell hit him in the face and he recoiled briefly. He closed his eyes and prepared himself the best he could for the sight that he was going to see.
He took one step in and saw the small droplets of blood on the floor leading in the direction of a shadowed corner. He followed it, letting the sound of soft breathing and weeping lead him to the curled up body, wrapped in a blanket.
He knelt down beside Adria and was at a loss for words. There was nothing that they could say to each other. They both knew what happened. Why drag it out farther than it already had gone? He brushed away her hair and she flinched at his touch. She turned to him and shuddered. Her nose dripped with blood that landed on the blanket. Her lip was split and when she finally acknowledged the fact that he was standing there, she turned away abruptly and cried harder. Her beautiful applicated makeup was smeared and running. Her hair knotty and messy. The sweeping chignon hung loosely at her shoulders and yet, her bangs remained untouched, shielding the darkness of her eyes from him.
"Please don't look at me," she begged.
Leto stood and went to the nightstand on her side of the bed and retrieved her miniature golem doll from years before. The guard captain had taken it and had his wife stitch it back together for her at the boy's behest. He went back to her side and slowly made the doll dance for her happily. She caught sight of it and slightly smirked at what he was trying to do.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"No," she sniffled.
He threw his arms around her, not caring that the sheet that had hid her nudity had slid down to her waist. He held her close, breathing her in. Her body quivered against him and when she pushed away, the shimmer of her eyes remained. The fire was only stirred brighter and it glowed with passion. The slow drip of blood bled threw his clothes and hit his skin.
"Do you need me to get the healer?" he questioned.
She placed the torn sheet to her nose and blotted the blood away.
"No." Adria shook her head and tried to stand. He helped her up and led her to the bed. Her legs were weak and when she stumbled he caught her by her bruised wrists. She winced and tried to withdraw, but Leto caught her and hefted her up as gently as he could. "If Danarius catches you he's going to hurt you."
"He can do what he wants with me. It doesn't matter."
He aided her getting into bed and covered her up. He sat in the chair across the room from her and watched her fall asleep. The golem doll lay on his lap and stared up at him with large black eyes. He would give it back to her in the morning, but first he had to come to terms with what Danarius had done to her. He wouldn't forget it and if he could ever gather up enough courage to defy their master he would. He would be dishonoring her not to do something about it.
She was his charge and he did the one thing he failed to do: protect her.