Title: Phlith Uns'aa (Hate Me)

Chapter: 2 The touch of hate
Author: LadyJanelly
Fandom: Forgotten Realms

Disclaimer: I do not own Forgotten Realms or any characters, lands, or items from the TSR world. They belong to their respective copyright holders.
Archive: Yes, but please tell me where.
Rating: NC-17 overall
Warnings: Slash, violence, violent rape, damaged people behaving in dysfunctional ways.

Summary: An AU that begins when Drizzt is captured and tortured in the Baenre complex during Starless Night. How far will Dantrag Baenre go to make sure Drizzt lives to fight him, and how far will another go to save him?

Notes: I like dark-vision as heat-vision, so it's written that way.

The blow to his face was hard enough to stun him, and before he was aware of it, Dantrag had turned him to face the wall, the chains on his wrists crossing above his head. Black fingers tangled and gripped in his white hair, and his face was smashed against the rough wall. He felt his nose break, and blood flow hot down his chin and chest.

" Tlun usstan phlithus?" The weapon-master's voice was dark, menacing, and...eager. "Do you hate me yet?" his hand held Drizzt tight to the wall. Drizzt heard the soft rasp of a dagger being unsheathed, and he began to struggle, twisting and fighting Dantrag's grasp.

The sharp slash began just above his hip on one side, cutting down through the waistband of his breeches, through suede and skin, and ended just above the back of his knee. His breath came in a harsh gasp, and his hands twisted against each other. His lips parted, but he denied Dantrag the pleasure of his scream. Another slash; quick, efficient, cut down his clothing and flesh on the other side. A shove of Dantrag's hand against the leather, and he was naked to the knees, the heat of his blood running down the backs of his legs.

"Nau," The voice didn't sound like his own, that voice beginning to beg Dantrag to stop. The other Drow's finger stroked along the wound where it crossed his left buttock. His near nakedness awoke new fear in him. "Nau....Qualla...." His voice was louder this time, and he could feel desperation rising in his chest.

"Tlun usstan phlithus?" Dantrag asked again, his voice a husky whisper. Drizzt swallowed, the sound loud in the utter quiet of the room.

"Siyo," he whispered. "Yes. I hate you."

Dantrag laughed, his voice beautiful, yet it projected menace instead of joy. "Oh, Drizzt," he chuckled. "I don't believe you."

At the silent moments that followed, Drizzt tried to turn to see Dantrag, but the dark hand held his face still pressed against the wall. He tried to kick, but the angle was wrong, and his bare foot hit the weapon-master's hip instead of his vulnerable crotch.

Then Dantrag leaned against him, and he felt that the other Drow had lowered his own leggings. He pushed against Drizzt; hot, hard. Fear clawed it's way up Drizzt's throat, threatening to choke him.

"Make me believe it," Dantrag whispered in his pointed ear, his voice low, mockingly seductive. "Make me believe it and this will all stop." His hand ran over the wound on Drizzt's flank again, and he pulled away for just a moment. When he pushed back, his hardness was wet, slick. My blood... it was the last thought that came coherent through the fear and pain...He is slick with my blood...

And then the body that had never known the touch of love was pierced by the touch of hate, a fierce burn that seemed to tear him in half. Drizzt screamed aloud, the raw sound echoing through the small room. His wrists bled on the shackles as he tried to pull himself up and away from Dantrag's assault, but the other Drow held him by his hips, short nails leaving their marks on the inky skin.

"Hate me," Dantrag whispered, the seductive lilt of his voice belying the fact that the body he was thrusting into was torn by his actions.

"Hate me," he urged, as his hand reached around to crush Drizzt's flaccid member in his fist.

"Hate me," he moaned as the need for release built inside of him, as hot tears coursed down Drizzt's face, as he licked the side of his victim's throat in a mockery of an erotic gesture.

"Siyo!" Dantrag grinned as he heard the word ripped from Drizzt's throat. This; this was what he had been waiting for. "Siyo! Usstan phlith dos!"

Drizzt's world had narrowed to the pain, the shame, the feel of Dantrag's hands upon him and the violation of his body. "Usstan phlith dos." He cried out again, some stubborn part of him insisting that Dantrag would honor his promise to stop once he believed it.

And then a sound pulled him back into the world, to hope, to courage. The bang of the torture chamber door being kicked open, the splintering of wood at the lock, the clash of weapons as Dantrag's cohort met the intruders.

"Shoot, woman!" The harsh voice cut through Drizzt's torment, and in that moment he knew that this day had taken his sanity, that he was indeed mad. The voice shouting orders could /not/ be Artemis Entreri. "Gods damn you, shoot!" The assassin could not, would not come here, and certainly not to storm the Baenre complex to rescue him. A macabre laugh bubbled from his lips.

Usstan phlith dos. -- I hate you.

Nau -- no

Siyo -- yes

Qualla -- please

Tlun usstan phlithus? -- Am I hated?