Disclaimer and other such things in previous chapters.
It feels good to be back!
-There is a female OC introduced in this chapter. She will not be falling in love with Legolas. He will not be falling in love with her. They will not be attracted to each other in any way. She does not have superpowers of any sort. In short, she is not a Marysue.
Just giving you a heads up! These days, it seems a rare thing when the main female OC is not an antagonist and does not catch a canon character's eye in some way.
----------
Part 7: Farmaen
----------
Faregon could barely help not grinning as he followed Dantar down the dark halls to the dungeon and the room which contained the kennel. Four guards were trailing behind them, although he deemed them a most likely unnecessary precaution. Were he even able to fight them now, he knew the Elf would be far too weak to contend against the strength of any single one of them. Such treatment would have been far too much for a man to stand. The will of the Elves was truly a wondrous thing.
Finally he would have the chance to explore the will and strengths of his new slave, and wear them down to break and mold to his desires. He could not wait for the exhilarating feeling of having something so powerful under his complete control and dominance. Though the Elf was likely some centuries older than he, Faregon knew that the creature could be counted among the younger of his kind. It was easier to instill fear in him than it would be a far older Elf, thus it would be easier to force obedience. He doubted the Elf had ventured beyond the borders of his homeland much, and likely had never been taken captive ere now. Though it would be pleasing to command and manipulate a being of strength and dexterity, to beat down and domineer something of youthfulness and beauty would be equally enjoyable. The Elf was worth more than gold and jewels; he could not wait until it was properly trained so he could flaunt his prize.
When they reached the room, Dantar opened the door and stepped inside, standing near the wall and folding his arms across his chest. Faregon glanced at the man and smiled in satisfaction before heading towards the small door of the kennel.
But as he neared, he paused at the peculiar sound he caught from inside.
He quickly kneeled and listened to the muted pounding sounds from inside, frowning. Thinking it strange that the Elf would be struggling at this stage of his confinement, he opened the window and peered inside, alarmed to find the Elf convulsing and choked sounds coming from his throat.
"He is suffocating!" Faregon hissed, hurriedly placing the key into the lock and opening the kennel.
The Elf spilled out, thrashing uncontrollably around on the ground. Dantar quickly moved to the Elf, barking at the guards. "Hold him down!" They immediately complied, pushing the Elf into ground on his stomach and doing their best to still his frantic weakening struggles.
Dantar quickly placed a knee on the back of the Elf's neck to still his head and untied the hood with expert fingers, ripping it off. He worked on the buckles of the ball gag and lifted his knee from the Elf's neck, releasing it and pulling the item from the Elf's mouth. A large gasp immediately followed from the prone Elf, who greedily sucked air into his heaving lungs, his body shaking as he attempted to turn on his side.
Dantar sat back, waving the guards off as he waited for the Elf to regain his breath. The Elf turned on his side and curled in on himself, his eyes shut tight. The men waited tensely for the Elf's breathing to calm. When the gasps lessened considerably, Dantar rolled the Elf onto his back and grabbed his chin, holding his face for inspection.
The Elf's cheeks were flushed, his breathing still ragged, and there was a wetness on his cheeks that revealed the tears he had wept. A redness surrounded the inside of his mouth, which remained open even after he regained his breath. His eyes were reddened with unshed tears and glazed from weakness and the near-death experience he'd just encountered. Dantar tilted the Elf's chin, ignoring his wince of pain as he checked the inside of the Elf's mouth for blisters.
After a moment, Dantar sighed and released the Elf. "He will be fine," he said to an anxiously observing Faregon. "I suspect that as he began to weep, the tears caused his nose to congest. He had no other means of breathing. He suffered no harm, only a few areas of his mouth rubbed raw." Dantar motioned to the guards. "Take him to be cleaned up again. Keep an eye on him; gag him if he tries to drink the water."
The guards nodded, and bent to pick up the bound Elf, who weakly cringed away from them. When they attempted to stand him on his feet, the Elf simply slumped between them as if unconscious. One of the guards grabbed him and hefted his light body over his shoulder, carrying him out of the room.
"Dantar," Faregon said softly, his eyes flashing in anger. "I need to speak with you."
---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
Farmaen cautiously made her way through the great halls of Faregon's mansion, keeping a weather eye out for any authority figures who might have been around. She did not wish to be caught neglecting her duties. But truly, she had so few that it would be easy enough for it to be missed were she to take some minutes of.
Yet finding time away from work was not the entire reason for her neglect. Earlier she had overheard Thaerwyn speaking with Kaswyn about something she had heard from their father. It was always interesting to watch the younger of the two stare wide eyed at her older sibling as if she understood every word being spoken. But being only nearly two years of age, Kaswyn could not hope to grasp most of the words in the one sided conversations her sister composed. Neither had been aware of the third party listening in on them, nor did they hear her muffled gasp as she listened to Thaerwyn's exuberant revelation.
There was an Elf in the castle.
Farmaen had never seen an Elf in her twenty years of living, and she wanted clarification that this was not merely the cause of the vivid imagination of an eight year old.
She did not acknowledge the guards she passed, simply kept her head held high and acted like she was doing what she was supposed to be doing. She had gathered from the gossip in the kitchens that Faregon was in his throne room conversing with a foreign man.
Farmaen knew of a passageway that led high on one of the walls of the throne room and allowed her to peek into the room and survey the occurrences. She had heard from some of the elder servants that at one time the room was used by Faregon's father to have his men spy on any visitors. No one else cared to use it now, as far as she knew, and it had been that way for years. She considered telling Thaerwyn and Kaswyn about it as soon as they were old enough. It would be rather amusing to see what trouble those two could stir up with such an efficient hiding place.
She reached the door, which blended superbly in with the rest of the stone wall. She glanced around once to ensure no one was watching, then pushed the two stones that would release the lock on the door and pushed it open. Slipping inside, she gingerly closed it behind her and crept up to the part of the wall she knew held the opening she would watch from. Already she could hear Faregon's voice.
As she put her eyes to the hole, she saw Faregon pacing furiously before a strange red haired man who she had seen once before. At the time, she had thought nothing of his visit; she had not even bothered to spy on him. Now she found herself wishing she had.
"I just simply cannot believe this!" Faregon hissed. "All this time waiting for and Elf and now that I finally have him, he nearly dies before I can use him!"
Farmaen held back a gasp, listening more intently.
"The ball gag was your idea, Lord Faregon." the foreign man said, staying where he was standing with his arms folded before him.
"And to use the kennel yours!" Faregon shot back.
The foreign man kept his voice calm. "You will recall my voiced concerns of using that item when confining the Elf. Be that as it may, this can very well be brought about as advantageous. The Elf lives, and suffers no physical damage whatsoever from the event. But I do not doubt that now, because of what occurred, his fear of the kennel will be much more than it would have been. That threat will now have a greater impact on him than we could have anticipated otherwise. Though I do not recommend use of the ball gag once more, unless you alter the item so he will be able to breathe through his mouth."
Faregon had ceased pacing while the other spoke, and was now silent. At length, he sighed. "I've ordered my guards to place the Elf in a cell. I will wait a little longer before using him to ensure his full recovery from the experience. I take no chances. For the moment, I will rest."
Dantar nodded. "Prince Legolas of Mirkwood will kneel at your feet, Lord Faregon, before the night ends."
Farmaen drew back, her eyes wide. It was true, then! An Elf here!
Her heart beat with excitement as she carefully made to exit, checking through a few other holes to make sure none were outside.
Farmaen's curiosity was great. She wanted to see this Elf, even if it meant the merest glimpse. Faregon rarely had guards in the dungeons and certainly with only one captive, there was no need to place them there now. She knew that Faregon was a man who saw no real need for unnecessary precautions when it came to the surety of his prisoners. No captive had ever escaped him.
She walked fast through the halls, acting normal and giving those around her no cause to suspect her of such behavior as she was about to commit. Stealthily she crept through the mansion. She knew this place very well.
Entering the dungeon, she glanced about to see if there were any guards present. There were none.
Smiling in smug satisfaction, she looked at the cells, surprised to find only one closed. And although it was closed, it remained unlocked.
This was where the Elf was held.
She placed her ear to the door and listened carefully, but could hear nothing.
Her hands trembling with nervousness, Farmaen carefully pushed the door open, striving for as little sound as possible. It was not guards on the outside who she feared would hear, but the occupant of the cell. When it was open enough she entered the room, which was formed so that the walls around the door were narrow and eventually broadened. Anyone inside or entering would not see the other until they stepped passed the narrow walls and into the main part of the cell.
Pressing herself near a wall, Farmaen slowly made her way to the corner that made way for the larger part of the cell. Her heart hammered furiously in her chest as her excitement grew. She held her breath as she neared the corner, pressed against the wall.
She leaned over, peeking around the stone and bracing herself.
She saw the form of the Elf lying curled on his side on the cold, hard floor. Her eyes could barely make out the steady rise and fall of his chest, though she could not hear him breathing. Beautiful blond hair splayed over his shoulders and head, concealing his face from view and softly shining as the torchlight danced across him. A small gasp was stifled in her throat as she spotted a gently pointed ear, proving everything she had heard. The creature wore only a pair of green leggings that clung low on his hips, probably having once been held up by a belt or sash. His bare flesh was pale, a few bruises the only mars she could identify. His body was tall and lean, the very muscles under his skin seeming to contain a smooth elegance about them.
Holding her emotions in check, she gave a quick glance over the rest of the cell. There was a single torch on each wall, for the dungeons were placed underground and no sunlight or moonlight could penetrate even had there been a window of some sort.
There was a metal ring held flush against the stone floor near his legs, a short chain running from the ring to a pair of metal shackles that held his wrists tightly together before him, looking crude and cumbersome on his limbs. Another short chain ran from the shackles along his body, disappearing under the fall of his hair. Through the gold silken locks she could see the flash of metal, most likely a collar.
Her fear dissipating somewhat with the knowledge that he was sufficiently restrained, Farmaen allowed her eyes to venture to the rest of the cell. The only other item within was a small bowl that appeared to be filled with water, sitting on the stones some feet away and against the wall. Judging the distance of the captive to the bowl, it appeared to have been placed just out of his reach. A scowl creasing on her forehead, Farmaen turned back to continue an examination of the Elf.
And was met with two piercing blue orbs that seemed to sear her very soul.
Her heart seemed to pause its beating within her breast as horror filtered through her being. She felt trapped by his gaze, her mouth opened in a soundless scream. A few seconds later she found her voice and let out a shaky cry, quickly bolting back to the door of the cell.
"Wait!"
Farmaen paused as the Elf's gruff and tired voice reached her ears, not daring to move. The clink of chains began to echo through the room as the Elf shifted about and began breathing heavily in exertion. Farmaen held her breath as she waited. Eventually, the sound of the chains subsided, and a moment later the Elf's breathing quieted.
She should have left then. She knew it. But one look was certainly not enough.
Gathering her determination, she again peeked around the corner.
The Elf was kneeling now, his head bowed, his hands clasped together before him as if praying.
"I bear you no malice, my lady."
The Elf's soft words nearly startled her into hiding again, but she found herself freezing in surprise at what was spoken. Indeed, no malevolence was there to detect in his voice, and besides, he could not escape to harm her in any way. Her courage rising, Farmaen managed to fully reveal herself. The Elf slowly raised his head to look at her, his chains clinking. His tired eyes did not seem to scald her as they had before.
"So you truly are an Elf," she breathed.
The creature nodded, and she sensed the great weariness that came with the movement. "Although several times of late I find myself wondering if I wouldn't wish it otherwise."
"You are an Elf and a prince." Farmaen said, remembering the foreign man's words. "And your name is Legolas."
"Aye." the Elf said, though if he was confused as to the source of her knowledge, he gave no sign.
"I am Farmaen."
With each word spoken she grew bolder, stepping closer to the Elf and finding herself taken with his beauty. She nearly reached out to touch his face, wanting to know how his skin would feel under her fingers, but stopped herself and drew her hand back. Legolas watched her movements with no flicker of expression.
"How could an Elf prince possibly be enslaved?"
A flash of bitterness came onto the Elf's face. "A misfortune of the greatest kind, truly. I traveled only with one other, and so close to my home I had not fathomed the danger. We were outnumbered, by far."
"And the other Elf? Where is he?"
"I wish I knew." A sadness came about in his gaze, adding to the already unhealthy look he exhibited. "A dear friend he was to me. There has been no sign of another Elf being held here?"
Farmaen shook her head. "You are the first I have ever seen." She paused for a moment, suddenly feeling it inappropriate to be standing before a being such as this when he could do naught but stay on his knees before her. She lowered herself onto the ground until she was kneeling and eye to eye with the other. "I had heard Faregon speaking. He said you were to be 'used.' I am not sure what that meant."
She saw the Elf nearly flinch at her words, his hands clenching into fists. "Faregon's desire for an Elf was driven by impure base human need."
It took her a few moments to understand what that meant, having seldom been exposed to such slaves during her lifetime. Her eyes widened as her mind's comprehension became complete. "A pleasure thrall?"
A snarl came onto the Elf's face, and even though presented with his clear weakness she had to hold herself from bolting away in fear. "Indeed." he said lowly.
"You are entirely unwilling?"
"Were I not, would there be need for chains?" he asked. "No Elf has ever willingly served a man in such a manner." He snorted in contempt. "And only a cowardly and abhorrent man would unfairly take a captive and keep him bound and at such a clear disadvantage." He shifted his gaze to his bound wrists, and she thought she caught his eyes flicker to the bowl against the wall.
Farmaen's ire suddenly rose at the callous words spoken. "Faregon is neither cowardly nor abhorrent!" she said angrily. "He is a great man and kind to his servants. If you would but follow his orders you would not need to be kept in such a state. More likely he keeps you down here to protect the others of this household."
"I did not ask for this." the Elf said indignantly, his voice becoming angrier despite his clear lack of strength. "I would never harm an innocent, nor would many others of my kind. No kindness did I receive when I was taken from the lands I knew and stripped of my title. No kindness did I receive when he withheld food and water from me, as he does even now. And no kindness did I receive when I was chained down here and left to remain unknowing of what the future will bring, only with the knowledge that it shall not be pleasant. Tell me, my lady, is it kindness when one is bound, mocked, beaten, and silenced?"
Farmaen's eyes were wide at the Elf's words and the sincerity of them. For the first time she truly noticed the other ailments he faced, and felt shame take hold from her foolishness. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his face was unhealthily pale. His body was beginning to thin, and he spoke as if it was strenuous to simply get the words out. His wrists were chaffed from being bound, and she thought she saw abrasions on the edges of his mouth.
"What you speak must be true..." she said, cursing herself for her ignorance, but incredulous that Lord Faregon was capable of such cruelty. "You are the first I have ever seen treated so unjustly by him. I ask for your forgiveness. I acted not the maiden I was brought up to be."
The Elf's eyes softened, and in them she could still see the pride that he so forcefully kept guarded. "You are forgiven, my lady."
"Please, call me Farmaen." she said with a small blush. "I feel uncomfortable being addressed so by an Elf."
He gave a slow nod. "Very well, Farmaen." He was silent for a moment, his eyes averting to contemplate the shackles on his wrists. "I perceive it is with risk you have ventured down here." he murmured, looking back up at her.
Farmaen felt her blush return full force. "Faregon would punish me were I caught snooping around the dungeons. None are allowed down here without his permission."
She thought she saw his eyes travel briefly to the bowl against the wall once more, and remembered what he had said about being given no food or water. She realized that the bowl of water had been placed there by the guards to further torment the Elf, to have sustenance so close and yet unreachable. Sadness filled her heart at the horrid treatment.
Farmaen got to her feet, her expression grave, and stepped over to the small bowl. She could feel the Elf's eyes following her movements. Bending over, she gently grasped the bowl and lifted it, moving slowly so as to not spill the liquid inside. She turned back to the Elf, seeing a hint of longing in his eyes that he could not hide. Farmaen moved back before Legolas, careful of her dress as she knelt before him again. Wordlessly she held the bowl up to his face. He stared at the offered bowl and then his eyes moved to hers.
"Drink." she said. "I cannot bear to see anyone suffer so."
Something strange flashed in the Elf's eyes as he regarded her. Farmaen felt a chill run up her spine from being scrutinized by those intense eyes once more. Then his eyes went back to the bowl and he leaned forward to prepare to drink the life-giving liquid within.
Suddenly, before his lips reached the bowl, the Elf's head shot back up and his eyes widened.
"What is it?" Farmaen asked.
"Men approach." he whispered. "You must leave. Place the bowl back over by the wall where you took it so there is no suspicion. Hurry!"
Her heart pounding, Farmaen followed the Elf's words, putting the bowl back against the wall and then hurrying out of the cell, escaping her only thought. She closed the door to the Elf's cell behind her, then looked down the corridor that led to the exit. She heard voices begin drifting through along with heavy footsteps. Panicked, she realized she would be caught if she went that way. She gazed about and quickly making a decision bolted into the cell next to the Elf's. Once inside she pressed herself against a wall in the shadows and sunk to the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she listened intently to the sounds approaching.
She could hear Faregon's familiar voice murmuring to someone, becoming louder and gaining more clarity as they neared. Farmaen wrapped her arms tighter as she heard them open the door to the cell. She heard chains rattle and then Faregon's soft, self-assured voice sounded. A biting reply came from Legolas, and a large smack reverberated off the walls as flesh connected with flesh. She winced, knowing that Faregon had hit the Elf. Then Faregon's voice raised enough so that she could make out the words.
"Guards, ready the slave for his first training lesson."
The clink of the chains returned for a few moments, along with Faregon's murmuring and the Elf's contemptuous replies. Suddenly the Elf's voice was cut off and the sounds of a struggle arose. It was brief, and she was startled to hear a whimper follow soon after. Faregon's voice returned again, low and dangerous. Farmaen strained to hear what was said, what threats were spoken, but the man's voice was too quiet to pierce the stone between cells. She could hear no reply from Legolas.
The thump of footsteps returned as the guards and Faregon left the cell. Farmaen listened to them go down the hall, standing and creeping over to the door of the cell once she felt they were far enough. She held tight to the wall as she glanced around the door with one eye to watch the guards and Faregon leaving the dungeons. Legolas was trailing behind them, pulled along by a chain connected to his collar. The Elf put up little resistance as he was led away.
"I've no duties to attend to for a few hours." Faregon's voice drifted down the corridor to her ears. The man stood near the Elf and took his chain from the guard, yanking on it hard and forcing the Elf's head close. From the distance Farmaen could make out the black cloths tied over the Elf's eyes and mouth. "I cannot wait to taste you..."
Farmaen shut her eyes and turned her head away as Faregon began to lick his way along the Elf's neck. A muffled protest came from the slave, but Faregon only chuckled. "From now on, speaking is a privilege. You will gain more freedom with obedience."
Farmaen opened her eyes once more to see the group disappear as they left the dungeons, Faregon's voice drifting away. As soon as the voices faded she allowed herself to relax, feeling the disgust curl in her belly and weakness come over her as her adrenaline faded. But she knew she could not think on this now. She had to get back to finish her duties.
She walked briskly towards the door to the exit of the dungeons, her mind still reeling despite her attempts to quell her roiling thoughts. She had to focus on other things, not think of the Elf or of what would happen to him. She would see him again. She promised herself she would see him again. Decision set, Farmaen made for the kitchens, intending to sneak some food and drink to hide away for later. She was going to offer the Elf whatever meager aid she could.
TBC...
Next Chapter: "First Lesson" ... ::evil smile::