A/N: Fixed some errors, my typing can be screwy sometimes. Please R&R! Also, Ch. 2 has been fixed, it's written better this time.

Chapter Three

Danifae woke suddenly, with no memories of either falling unconscious or waking. She was in an odd position, but nonetheless remained slumped, attempting to call some life to her limbs. Slowly, she opened her eyes, settled herself, muscles quivering from fatigue and mind still fogged, and took survey of her surroundings. She was bent in a kneeling position, arms stretched above her and shackled to a wall. Her legs were bent under her and also chained. She noted that she was not gagged, nor were her fingers restrained. Hmm, I can still cast then. How stupid of them, she thought, and continued her inspection. She had been stripped to the skin, but she showed no injuries but for a few bruises from kneeling. They healed me? That in itself was not unusual, it was standard practice to heal captives before torture and execution. What was more, she was in a cell, but there were no guards to be found.

She cleared her throat and began to speak a spell to free herself, but the words froze. She tried again, and met with the same result. She shivered, and not from the cold of the clammy, fungus covered walls of her cell. The motion made a locket she had not noticed shift on her skin. She stopped dead, fear making her blanch. She tried to scream, experimentally. Nothing happened. She tried to duck her head, so that the locket, hanging on a loose chain, would fall off. Her muscles seized painfully.

Still unable to move, Danifae's mind raced. Why hadn't she noticed it before? There were compulsions locking her mind and body in so many ways it seemed impossible for her to have missed them, and the more she fought, the more intense the pain became. But it was nothing compared to what came next.

Danifae heard the sound voices murmuring down the hall from her cell, and boot heels clicking. She could see the heat of several bodies through her cell door. There was a whisper of a spell said, then a sharp clicking noise, and the heavy metal door swung open. A tall drow female entered her cell, followed by three males that appeared to be mages, judging by their dress and lack of weapons. Three more guards, all female, followed. The leader was pretty, but far less so than Danifae, with a face that was attractive but not remarkable, and a tall, slender frame. Danifae, by contrast, was lush, with striking eyes, perfectly formed features, silken black skin and silvery-white hair. The strange female had a the regal bearing of one born into giving orders, and her face was twisted into a peculiar smile that mixed contempt with domination and anticipation with cruelty. She bore the crest of an unfamiliar noble house on her armor, and carried a morning star at her belt, next to a whip. She nodded to the mages, who quickly ceased casting sidelong appreciative glances at Danifae. One mage gestured to a guard, who produced a knife, handing it to her mistress and giving the mages a look of disgust. The leader took it, and cut her hand without flinching. She then approached Danifae, who could do nothing but watch helplessly as the female cut a gash across her chest, where the locket lay. The mages began chanting as the drow placed the cut on her hand to the cut on Danifae.

The chant increased in volume and speed. Danifae could not struggle, though all her instincts were screaming at her to wrench herself away, She became vaguely aware that the wizards had ceased speaking, and it was the magic now that roared in her ears, though her blood, and beat a drum-like pulse between herself and the other female where their skin met.

As the magic-induced noise reached a point where it blocked out all her senses, something snapped. She retched, the world skewed, and something grabbed a hold of her soul in an iron fist. The few seconds of blinding agony stretched on, and she felt the presence of this other female throughout every fiber of her being, binding and controlling the very force that kept her alive.

Then it was over. The female collapsed into her guards, who held their swaying mistress and steadied her to her feet. Danifae did not recover so quickly. She hung limply in her bindings, gasping, and could not escape the feeling of being controlled. Her stomach heaved, and her eyes streamed. She knew, inexplicably, that this fellow priestess could simply let her wither away, or take her life in an instant, if she chose. What was worse, she was free to think, but she needed her mistress, though the thought made her ill, as much as she needed to breathe. She felt sick, not just from the physical affects of binding, but also from the sheer repulsiveness of the thought of calling someone else mistress. It went against her pride to admit it, even to her self, but Danifae Yauntyrr was for the first time in her life afraid. It was not the prospect of death and torture that brought on this fear, but true to drow nature, the thought of being ruled, possessed, and subservient. Dependant, a cruelly honest voice in her mind whispered. She shoved the thought away as she was very good at doing, but others simply rose up to take its place. They were inseparable, Danifae and the other, so much that if her mistress died, so would she.

The female regained her composure, and spoke. "I am Halisstra Melarn, First Daughter of House Melarn, Danifae Yauntyrr." She smiled cruelly as she stood and walked over to Danifae's bound form, looming ominously above her. " I am your Mistress now, battle-captive." Danifae spat at her, and was rewarded by blistering pain as Halisstra, through their bond, set her every nerve afire.

" That is nothing," Halisstra hissed. Her face became a mask of fury. " I own you! Do you understand now? You are a slave, battle-captive!" Her voice lowered to a deadly whisper. " I could rend your soul from your flesh without ever raising a finger. You cannot fight me."

Danifae matched her glare. " You will never break me," she said, just as softly, and meant it. She had seen plenty of owners grow soft towards their captives, but had never seen a slave relinquish their hatred. And this was the though she clung to; her hope, if drow where capable of that, until a black creature born from the pain of her punishment bore her down into the darkness.

Danifae remained in her cell for so long that she lost track of the time that passed. However, as time wore on, she began to formulate the best ways to escape pain, and keep herself alive. While this might have been obvious to one born into slavery, Danifae had never had the benefit of that education, and subservience was an alien concept to her. Well, not subservience from others, that she was very well accustomed to, but from herself? At times she thought she would rather die. That option was denied to her as well.

At first, Danifae fought every compulsion, accepting the pain as a trophy of her will and resistance. Halisstra was not an expert at torture, though it was part of every female drow's education, but she inflicted Danifae's punishments with her own hands as often as with her mind. Every time, after her "lessons in obedience" she was healed, as this was the drow way.

Days stretched on into weeks, and Danifae finally began to admit that she could not free herself. Her pride, though far from broken, was stretched to a weary kind of acceptance born of knowing that while nothing could be done now, perhaps someday she could be free. She fought her mistress less, and began to manipulate her more, though when she drifted into Reverie, her mind was filled with bloody fantasies of the torments she would inflict on Halisstra before killing her, if she had the chance. Danifae could be very patient when it suited her, and she watched Halisstra's every move in Danifae's presence. At first, she simply ceased fighting and maintained a sullen silence, though Halisstra still tormented her relatively often, for fun or to take out her frustrations. She gradually began to speak, letting a respectful tone creep into her voice. The process took a very long time, it seemed to Danifae, but it was necessary to avoid alarming her mistress. In return, the torturing was reduced, unless Danifae "forgot herself", which she made sure to do every so often. She studied her mistress, learning that she was something of a lonely person, and was rather weak, by Danifae's standards. Halisstra took care to hide it, but it became clear after some time that Halisstra was desperate for someone she could trust, even slightly. Halisstra began talking to and confiding in Danifae, secure in the knowledge that as long as Danifae could not break free, she was free to do or say whatever she pleased. And the chances of Danifae breaking free where so slim as to be nonexistent. Danifae stored away every tidbit of information, from Halisstra's botched attempt to confide in her sister, who tried to kill her (Danifae had nearly laughed aloud at this, and she whole-heartedly agreed with the sister in question's tactics), to how her mother thought her rather weak.

Contempt began to mix with hatred towards Halisstra, but she took care to never let it show. Knowing that her mistress trusted her now, as much as any drow could trust even a bound slave, Danifae began to employ some of her formidable charm. She took up the role of Halisstra's most trusted and loyal servant, and in truth, she was. Danifae could not lay a hand intended to harm on either herself or her mistress- though both thoughts crossed her mind- and she could not disobey a direct command, nor could she remove her locket, which was the physical receptacle of the binding. She would not risk herself to anger her mistress too much, because Halisstra could (perhaps even would, though she was weak) let her die, for the binding somehow kept her alive.

She did discover some advantages to her binding. She always knew where her mistress was, could sense to a certain degree her mood, and was certain that she would know instantly if any harm befell her. She assumed the same was true for Halisstra.

Halisstra began to reward Danifae for her good behavior by allowing her clothing, undoing her chains to allow her to move around her cell, and eventually even told her what had befallen House Yauntyrr.

" The Irzyln came to us with a proposition, some time ago." Halisstra said thoughtfully one day. " They were desperate to move up the status scale in Eryndlyn- you're in Ched Nasad now, did you know? - and they wanted Yauntyrr in particular destroyed. They offered 300 years of official vassal hood for our assistance. We agreed, and began slowly weakening the Yauntyrr with some small raids and assassinations." She paused to judge Danifae's reaction. She had been speaking very casually, but it was clear by the expression in her eyes that she had chosen her wording to try to hurt Danifae.

Danifae remained expressionless for a moment, and then asked in a soft voice she had recently affected, "You speak as though you were there?" It was a question, as she was not yet bold enough to make blunt statements.

Halisstra laughed. "I was commander, fool! Well, the final attack came, and we committed our forces with success. In the midst of it, a mage made a bargain with us. He claimed he would kill off as many as he could, then take the three highest ranked captive. We thought, why not, we could always kill him later. As it happened, he only got you, since your older sisters died at the hands of our soldiers." She smiled, and made a dismissive little hand gesture, a habit of hers. " Yauntyrr was destroyed. Whatever survivors remained fled, and the Irzyln got what they wanted. I negotiated with them a bit, and they gave me you. The mage was your brother, as you found out, and he was killed shortly after. No reason to let him live, I suppose." She watched Danifae appraisingly, and Danifae sat demurely with eyes cast down and her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Well, Danifae?"

Danifae looked up. "Yes, Mistress Melarn?"

Halisstra smiled, and Danifae was uncertain of what she read in that gaze. She felt suddenly off balance, though she and Halisstra were close in age and both priestesses, and Danifae certainly felt herself to be stronger. Still she could not help but wonder if Halisstra Melarn was as weak as she let on. She was, after all, first daughter of a powerful house, had been born such and remained so for around 200 years. Danifae waited for Halisstra to speak again.

" It is time for you to make yourself useful." Danifae knew the implications of that, indeed, she had been waiting for these word for some time. " I think that you are sufficiently trained to leave the dungeons and take your place as my handmaiden." Danifae widened her eyes charmingly, and let a slightly surprised smile play over her lips. " Fae, don't play innocent with me, I know you've been waiting for this." She smiled, not at what her mistress had said, but rather at the use of the nickname. No matter what her mistress said otherwise, Danifae knew this was a sign that Halisstra was going to keep her, and that her plan was going well. Halisstra seemed to be a little lacking in the finicky nature of most drow that would have made Danifae's plan difficult. Instead, she had a calm sort of temperament; she was something of a scholar, intelligent, but not prone to lash out more so than was usual for a priestess.

"You should be aware that you will be at my side at all times unless I order otherwise. I may at times ask your opinion in private, but never offer it. You must obey everything instantly, no fighting your compulsions or you will be back in this cell until I decide to kill you. You must display complete and unswerving loyalty to me at all times, or I will let any witnesses to your disobedience kill you. Look to me if spoken to, and I will either answer for you, or signal you to answer. Danifae knew all of this, but by speaking it, Halisstra activated the binding, and made certain that Danifae would obey.

" Of course, Mistress." Danifae said, and bowed her head. Halisstra stood up, and then gestured for Danifae to rise. She did so, and carefully kept an accomplished smile from her face.

"Come then, Danifae." Halisstra said, and walked out of the cell, Danifae close at her heels.