Thank you for the reviews!!! Oh yes, and:::
Disclaimer:: I don't own the books or setting or anything, but I do own the characters! Please
dain't use my characters! ;) Thanx All!!!!! Oh, and if there's any more confusion - Leandra is
always 1st person in this story, so 'I' is always referring to Leandra's point of view :)
I slushed my way through the thick, cloggy mudhole back to the camp. Harsh firelight met my eyes,
which were used to the gentle silvery moon. Silence descended as the campmembers turned their heads to
make out my complexion.
I ran a finger along my pale, porcelain-like face, seamed with the scar that I touched, in greeting
to the men. Their eyes flickered under the firelight and I saw the leader run a finger along his own
scar-seamed face. Slowly I walked into the camp, letting my muddy dress talk for me, shaking out the excess.
I closed my eyes, bent on one knee in silent, fake prayer that the priest-leader believed, and submitted
myself down on my hands and knees totally.
He rose tall above me, towering over me, and I Felt rather than saw the flicker of furious delight, and
I braced myself. Just in time, too, and the slaves started whipping me mercilessly. I cried out in fake pain,
as I was used to this punishment, and let myself cry dragon-tears, dare not I to look up at his vengeful face.
Men closed on all sides around me as I felt one raping me. Virgin, I was not, for this treatment had been
done for several years. Beautiful was my face, scarred, my body, broken, my mind. I screamed loud, and no
birdcalls were heard for miles around. He shoved into me and I buried my face into the ground, into the dirt.
I wished yet again that I had not been born beautiful... Wishing that maybe, this time, I would be given
release from a God I knew not of..
Disclaimer:: I don't own the books or setting or anything, but I do own the characters! Please
dain't use my characters! ;) Thanx All!!!!! Oh, and if there's any more confusion - Leandra is
always 1st person in this story, so 'I' is always referring to Leandra's point of view :)
I slushed my way through the thick, cloggy mudhole back to the camp. Harsh firelight met my eyes,
which were used to the gentle silvery moon. Silence descended as the campmembers turned their heads to
make out my complexion.
I ran a finger along my pale, porcelain-like face, seamed with the scar that I touched, in greeting
to the men. Their eyes flickered under the firelight and I saw the leader run a finger along his own
scar-seamed face. Slowly I walked into the camp, letting my muddy dress talk for me, shaking out the excess.
I closed my eyes, bent on one knee in silent, fake prayer that the priest-leader believed, and submitted
myself down on my hands and knees totally.
He rose tall above me, towering over me, and I Felt rather than saw the flicker of furious delight, and
I braced myself. Just in time, too, and the slaves started whipping me mercilessly. I cried out in fake pain,
as I was used to this punishment, and let myself cry dragon-tears, dare not I to look up at his vengeful face.
Men closed on all sides around me as I felt one raping me. Virgin, I was not, for this treatment had been
done for several years. Beautiful was my face, scarred, my body, broken, my mind. I screamed loud, and no
birdcalls were heard for miles around. He shoved into me and I buried my face into the ground, into the dirt.
I wished yet again that I had not been born beautiful... Wishing that maybe, this time, I would be given
release from a God I knew not of..