Disclaimer: Drow, Drizzt everything, not my property.

A/N: I didn't intend to write more when I posted the first chapter, but after some people asked interesting questions the idea of trying to write "the victim side" got stuck in my head. I still won't tell you the other's name though, wouldn't want for anybody to go and harass him.*g*

Thanks to everybody who reviewed, the comments were surprisingly positive.

The other side of the mirror

You are in the city once again. Despite his presence and determined not to notice him, because to notice would equal surrender and you would never surrender willingly. But you can feel the hungry gaze of these cold amber eyes on you and it's as if you're naked again with nothing to protect you from the unwanted scrutiny. Even though you try very hard you can't keep yourself from remembering how those cool, slender hands feel on your back, your stomach, sliding between your legs, touching, teasing, violating and you hate yourself almost more than him, for not being able to forget, not being able to block this out, because you should be able to do so, because you've already suffered through things much worse than this. You are no stranger to physical as well as emotional pain. In fact you are quite used to it, have been since the early days of your childhood.

But this is different somehow, this is pain combined with gentleness. So cruel, nothing could have prepared you for the exquisite torture he bestowed on your unresisting body. No one had ever touched you this way and you had no idea it what it would be like when you agreed. You can still remember the surprise, the cold sense of dread when you realized he was serious in his demands and there was nothing else you could do except to give in, nothing else you could do to bring her back.

Yes, there was nothing else and so you went to him as you had promised to do. You submitted, not sure of what to expect. And then your body betrayed you and your soul froze in terror and shame when you discovered that he could do what no other had been able to do. He could make you feel, lose control, make you scream and reduce you to begging him to take what you never wanted to give before. Had you known that this would happen would you still have come?

Yes, but with far more resentment, because now you are scarred forever. You can't look at her without seeing him, without remembering. And that is what pains you most, by bringing her back you have irrevocably lost her. And yet you can't let go, even though sometimes when the pressure becomes too much you flee from her presence, but eventually you will always come back to continue torturing yourself.

You don't know why you do this, why you are unable to tell her or any of your friends about this. You cringe inwardly seeing the hurt in her eyes when you flinch away from her casual touch. But she can't, she mustn't know. Maybe deep down you realise that your silence is what should concern you most, because you should be able to talk to them.

What you did was necessary, nothing you need to be ashamed of. The reactions he caused were purely physical and have nothing to do with your personal wishes, or so you tell yourself during your endless wanderings. But even whilst listening to your own litany you are in doubt. What if you are wrong? What if this really is a part of your inner self? He told you so many times, made you doubt and laughed when you protested. But he doesn't know you, does he?

Now you are trying to hold your life together, to gather the tattered threads of your dignity and you hate him more than you have ever hated anybody before in your life. Sometimes you catch yourself imagining how you hurt him, make him pay and hear him moaning in agony. You can practically see the way his blood would look, running down the smooth golden skin glittering like a ruby in the sun, staining the silky blond hair.

And then suddenly you notice what it is that you are doing and you feel more frightened than ever before, because you fear that he may have achieved what your mother and all the priestesses of the spider queen couldn't. He may have taken from you everything that you believe in and forever tainted your heart. Turned you into someone you loathe, into a true Drow.

This fear is the only reason he's still alive, still able to watch, to haunt you. And he is aware of it, you are sure, because you can see the quiet amusement behind that impassive façade, every time you dare to look in his direction. You feel trapped; unable to leave but equally unable to stay, forced to face you inner demons alone with no idea what may come of it.