m: 'Believe it or Not'belongs to Nickelback
Chapter Two
Nathyrra gazed at Seelamin. He was on the practice courts, training recruits. About a month had passed since he had arrived and already he was given a powerful place in the household, despite his status as a slave. She had been observing him. Though he denied it, he was a leader. His mere presence commanded respect and everyone knew it.
Seelamin surveyed the troops. Though he allowed no emotion to show on his face, he was disgusted. These raw recruits were not fit to hold a sword, let alone swing it. You've dealt with young recruits before, Seelamin, he reminded himself.
He let out a growl of exasperation when he saw that two hotheads had gotten into a fight. One drow threw a punch at the other's face. The second grunted and kicked at the first. Seelamin walked over and pulled them apart, holding them at an arm's length apart. "When we fight amongst ourselves is when we become less than animals!" He shouted. He dropped the two drow. "Keep practicing your drills!" he roared at the others. He looked down at the two troublemakers. "Laps. Three of them around the court. GO!"
---
Nathyrra started to leave. She felt a hand tap her shoulder and turned around. Seelamin looked at her, his grey eyes calculating. "Why?" he asked.
"Why what?" she asked.
"Why did you save me?"
She smirked. "Rather blunt aren't you? Are you aware that I could have you killed for merely looking me in the eye, slave?"
"I'm no slave, I'm a person who follows orders when the occasion, or a collar," he fingered the band around his neck, "Demands it."
"Yes, you don't like to follow orders, do you?"
"You're avoiding the question, drow."
Her eyes narrowed. "Do not address me as 'drow', male."
"Male? I suppose this means that I shall address you as 'hypocritical btch'." He shot back.
"You insolent male!" An enraged Nathyrra shouted. She brought up her hand and slapped the fighter across the face. Seelamin gave no indication of pain as her hand stung his face. His cold grey eyes locked with her own angry blue. Calmly, he raised his own hand and slapped her.
She recoiled, her eyes wide with shock at his action. He looked at her. "I am not a chauvinist, Nathyrra. If a woman slaps me, then I have no qualm about returning the favor." He said calmly.
"I should have you killed for such disobedience, jaluk!" She hissed.
"Yes you probably should. But you won't." He stated before walking away.
She rubbed the mark that had formed on her cheek. That bastard. I should have him killed. But I won't, or else I would lose the challenge I made with my sister.
Are you sure the challenge is the reason you won't have him killed?
Of course I am! Why wouldn't it be!?
---
Seelamin walked through the halls. The seven foot man ducked under a door and continued his brisk walk. His fingers brushed the welt that had appeared on his cheek. Damn the btch. If she weren't such an important member of the household and this collar I would kill her for such insult!
---
The next day, Nathyrra stood on the practice courts. She was still rather angry at Seelamin and was taking out her rage on anyone willing to spar with her. She was an amazing knife fighter and could beat about all of the recruits that challenged her.
She held a knife to the drow's throat. He let his weapons fall and dropped to one knee, the drow gesture of surrender. Nathyrra smirked. "Is there anyone else who would like to try?" she asked the crowd.
"I would." said a familiar voice. Nathyrra frowned as Seelamin stepped forward. She gave him a look of pure hatred and gestured towards the selection of weapons, "Choose your weapon."
Nathyrra smiled maliciously as Seelamin hunted for an axe. This was her opportunity to get back at him for calling her a witch and embarrass him in front of his recruits. She raised her daggers and attacked him.
He blocked her attack and swung at her neck. She brought up her daggers just in time. What the!? He's just as fast as I am! She continued to fight. It seemed as though Seelamin was toying with her, which he was. He finally got bored and swung a mighty blow that knocked the daggers out of her hands. He held the axe at her throat. "Do you yield?"
She snarled and swung her fist at his face. he had anticipated this and caught her wrist. "Don't be stupid." He let go of her wrist and walked off. Nathyrra stared after him. You bastard.
She watched as Zarra walked up to him, grinning seductively and tossing her hair back. Nathyrra unconsciously checked her own hair. It was a bit messy from the fight but still reached near her elbows despite how close Seelamin's blade had gotten to it.
She gazed at her flirtatious sister. I suppose I must put my feelings aside and apologize to him if I wish to win.
---
"Seelamin!" she called out.
The man turned around and stared at her. "What do you want?"
"I wish to…to apologize? You're right, I have been a btch."
"What? The great and haughty Nathyrra is apologizing to a lowly male?"
Nathyrra scowled. "Tease me if you wish, you've certainly earned the right. My apology was sincere however."
"I accept your apology but what do you mean by 'earned the right'?"
She smiled. "You're the first person that's beaten me in a spar in about…five years. You've earned my respect. You're not so bad…for a lowly male that is."
"Had to add that last part. I accept your apology."
"Good. Walk with me back to my rooms."
Seelamin shrugged. "If you want me to."
---
"Tell me about the 'Silver Panthers'. They are a Uthgardt clan are they not?"
"Not Uthgardt. We have some of the same ideals and are 'barbarians' but we also have differences as well."
"How so?"
"Well for starters, we believe in unity and honor above all else. Family is valued highly and to even think of killing a family member is ultimate dishonor. You must mate only with those of pure-blooded silver panthers and to marry or even mate with another race is a sin."
"You sound very sad when you say that." commented Nathyrra.
"I…I'd prefer not talk about that. I have bad experiences."
"I see. Tell me more about your 'honor'."
"Most of it sums up in a simple phrase," he cleared his throat, "Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow man is either a fool or a coward. Whoever cannot live without that law is both. For a wounded man shall say to his assailant, 'If I live I will kill you. If I die, you are forgiven.' Such is the rule of honor."
"What does that mean?"
"Depends on what you make of it."
---
Seelamin walked back to his quarters. Nackor was waiting for him. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Mr. Ladies-man!"
Seelamin stared at him. "Ladies man? Are you drunk?"
"Ha! No. I saw you walking with Nat." He grinned at the taller man. "Someone's gotta crush on the drow."
"I do not have a 'crush' on her."
"I'm not interested in her like that. I…I can't feel that way about women."
Nackor stared at him. "Are you a homosexual? Because it's cool if you are. My cousin, Kyle, is gay and he-"
"No. I…I…just…"
"You're celibate?"
"No! I-"
"Oh gods, you're a eunuch!?"
"NO! I JUST CAN'T FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT A WOMAN DAMN IT!"
"But Nat's pretty sexy; I mean she's got charcoal black skin, silver hair, blue eyes-"
"Don't talk to me about her eyes." Seelamin said tiredly. He walked into the room and collapsed the bed. He stared at the ring on his finger. On the surface were the elvish ruins that spelled out 'Vi Oth Deagol Khess Dos'. He sighed. Arayna…
The strange voice had returned, singing once more.
Believe it or not, everyone have things that they hide
Believe it or not, everyone keeps most things inside
Believe it or not, everyone, believe in something above
Believe it or not, everyone, need to feel loved
Feel loved, but we don't, and we don't
Until we figure out, could someone deliver us?
And send us some kind of sign, so close to giving up
Coz faith is so hard to find
But you don't, and you won't, until we figure out
I've seen it a lot
Every time to the world turns upside down
Believe it or not, everyone
Most of us feel like we're losing ground
Believe it or not, everyone, hate admitting fear
Believe it or not, most of us wanna know why we're here
Why we're here, but we don't and we won't
Until we figure out, Could someone deliver us?
And send us some kind of sign, so close to giving up
Coz faith is so hard to find, someone deliver us?
And send us some kind of sign, so close to giving up
Coz faith is so hard to find
But you don't, and you won't, until we figure out
Most of us have nothing to complain about
Most of us have things we could live without
Everyone need advice on how to get along
Get along; we don't, until we figure out
Believe it or not everyone?
Believe it or not, everyone have things that they hide
Believe it or not, everyone keeps most things inside
Believe it or not, everyone, believe in something above
Believe it or not, everyone, need to feel loved
Feel loved, but we don't, and we don't
Until we figure out, Could someone deliver us?
And send us some kind of sign, so close to giving up
Coz faith is so hard to find, someone deliver us?
And send us some kind of sign, so close to giving up
Coz faith is so hard to find
But you don't, and you won't, until we figure out
Arrow Maker: Elvish translations below.
Vi Oth Deagol Khess Dos: I will always love you