Disclaimer: Drow and background-world are not mine. You all know it anyway.
A/N: If you're reading this you will have noticed the move and change of name. I hope the change doesn't inconvenience anybody and you'll go on reading like before. Reviews would be nice. grin
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Escape
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"No big words from you anymore?" He wants to know nastily upon seeing me turn away in defeat. "The truth hurts doesn't it traitor?"
I can feel Andy shift a little closer, trying to ease my internal anguish simply by providing soothing contact. This strategy has always worked quite well after I lay curled up, sobbing in despair when our Master was finished with me. Only back then he was allowed to touch me, whereas now he has to limit his actions to a nearly unnoticeable level, which does not as much to help me as it usually would, seeing that the very source of comfort could also provide further material for taunts.
"Doesn't it?" The soldier asks again when I only react by looking away with tightly compressed lips. I try very hard not to remember the way my Master used to ask the same questions and how terribly he would punish me when I failed to answer in the manner he desired. Apparently the soldier does not see how precarious my hold on my emotions has suddenly become, because he continues in a gloating voice: "What, have you got nothing to say to your defence scum? Maybe Lord Liral was more right than I thought in proposing to give you over to the Drow. You probably deserve it."
"No." I moan softly, more to myself than to anybody else, already caught in the painful snares of my past. In my mind I can practically hear the taunting voice of my Master telling me: Say it! Now slave. You know it's true! Say it! I feel again how his words circle me, how they wrap around my tongue and force me into the admittance I never wanted to make.
"Yes it's true. I'm a worthless disgrace! Are you happy now?" I cry and promptly burst into tears. I had vowed to never repeat these words again after he who made me say them had died, but apparently his hold on me extends even beyond the grave. My quiet sobbing is the only noise for a few moments. It seems my strange outburst has caught them off guard. No wonder. They didn't have a clue what these claims and questions were doing to me. I vainly try to curl up and hide, achieving absolutely nothing by it except to upset myself further, because now I feel like I've lost another piece of my already battered dignity. Why does it still hurt so much? Because I had actually thought this had all ended? I nearly jump in surprise when I hear Andy speak next.
"Stop." He pleads softly. "Please stop. You do not know what you are talking about."
His surprising interruption jolts me out of the painful memories that were tormenting me only seconds ago. This is something Andy has never ever done before. To speak out against somebody he perceives as superior is practically impossible for him, or at least I had thought so until this moment. Even Ufrelyn who has so far watched the whole exchange with an impassive facade, is now raising a surprised brow.
"You shut up Drow."
I feel rather than see Andy's wince at the harsh rebuke, but my gratitude is just too great to contain and I lean against him breath still unsteady and hitched. Despite the harsh words from before though there is no further comment uttered for the next hours and slowly I recover. With my tears gradually drying I find back to my usual cynicism. The day has been quite tiring though and I want nothing more than to be free of all these people who are inflicting their bothersome presence on my life.
Just when I think this an impenetrable globe of darkness descends on the room. That must be Ufrelyn's doing. At least I very much hope so, because if there are any other Drow around my chances of survival are slim at best with my arms still bound before me. The chaotic shouting and clinking of weapons, which starts directly after we have all lost our sight makes me wince and pull back towards the bed, dragging Andy with me. In my panic to get out of the way I forget that I'm still wearing the blasted skirt and kneel on the hem, which promptly leads to me falling over when my freedom of movement is suddenly impaired by the restraining fabric. I land in an embarrassing heap on the floor and feel somebody stepping on my calf. We both curse. Me in pain and the other because now he's down as well.
Next to me I suddenly hear the soft, terrible sound of a blade cutting through flesh and then a wet gurgle which can only mean that whoever has just stumbled over my leg is probably quite dead. It seems my bad luck has once again sprung into action, because I can also feel warm blood spray all over my face. Gods I hate this! With a sound of disgust I move back even further and try to relocate Andy.
If I can ever get Ufrelyn to stand perfectly still for at least three seconds and patiently wait for me to kill her I will certainly do so! In any other case I suppose my chances to succeed are not very good. Stupid Drow! Why on earth couldn't she just wait for a time when I'm not around to start her little killing spree? Someone bumps into me knocking me over yet again and for a short moment I panic until I notice the familiar voice of Andy whispering frantically: "Toren is that you? There's blood everywhere! I can smell it. Toren are you hurt? Toren!"
"Don't worry darling." I answer hastily, before can work himself into a nervous breakdown. "I'm fine. I think Ufrelyn has just made an escape attempt."
A soft sigh escapes him, which is immediately followed by a dry: "No really? What gave you that idea?"
Ok, when he's back to being this sarcastic I guess his state of mind is nothing to fret about right now.
"Do you think we could get away as well?" He wants to know hopefully. "I really don't like this Liral guy very much. Maybe we..."
At that point the light returns with sudden and nearly painful intensity, turning any thought of escape into meaningless speculation. As expected the blasted female is nowhere to be seen. Right in front of me though lies, in a steadily growing pool of blood, the very obviously dead body of the recently deceased elven soldier, whose lifeless, broken eyes are staring towards the ceiling. Shuddering I look away only to notice another corpse next to the door, which is standing wide open. Several people are shouting and running around in complete disorder, swords waving uselessly in the empty air.
What a bunch of incompetent idiots! The impressive looks of Liral's soldiers are somewhat deceiving it seems. When it comes to serious action they are of little more use than Andy or myself. My favourite Drow is still rubbing his tearing eyes, while at the same time trying to shield them from the continued glare. His are probably far more sensitive than mine and this sudden burst of brightness must have caused him quite some pain. I guess any attempt to slip away is definitely doomed to fail now that he can't even see properly and so I settle my back against the bed with a soft sigh of disappointment, deciding that it'll be best to stay out of the way for the time being and wait patiently until the general panic has quietened down to a more bearable level.
After a few minutes though something happens that makes my own level of dread rise in record speed. Lord Liral comes barging in with an expression that would make a Giant turn an run in fear, in his wake a bunch of angry sycophants, but also someone I have never wanted to see less when bound and covered in blood like this. Giciel. He stops dead as soon as he spots us sitting on the ground, while Liral is so preoccupied with his own rage that he continues ranting and never notices the mages' telling reaction.
"...your uncle has already helped me question them thoroughly, but he's gone now with the other and we don't know if these two might have some knowledge that could help us find the woman..." At this point he notices that his audience is displaying a blatant lack of attention. "What are you staring at?" He snaps impatiently, grabbing the shocked mage by a sleeve and basically dragging him further into the room.
"You!" That's all Giciel utters while still staring at me in dumbfounded surprise. His exclamation gains him the immediate and exclusive attention from the equally surprised Drow by my side who, until this moment, was quite preoccupied by his efforts to try and clean the increasingly sticky blood from his face and hair. Andy refrains from speaking out loud though and merely settles for a hostile glare. I fervently wish I could just vanish and leave all this behind. The situations is becoming more absurd and detestable by the second. Why did the damned mage have to turn up and disrupt my already jumbled state of mind?
"Yes me." I mutter and stare back at him with a decided lack of joy. This is not supposed to happen! We left him behind in his stupid tower. He has no business just popping up like this! For a second I wonder if I should just start crying. It has worked before..., but then I realize that Liral will most likely be less than impressed by such an act and become even angrier than he already is. If that is even possible. Sadly his anger doesn't keep him from being attentive enough to finally pick up Giciel's rather unmistakable distress and he barks: "What is the meaning of this?" Causing all of us to wince slightly when a generous amount of spittle accompanies his words.
"What is he doing here?" The mage wants to know in confusion, bringing his main focus back to the Lord, who has reached the end of his patience and snaps back: "He is the thrice cursed prisoner I asked you to help me question, but since you two seem to already know each other, I think I can spare myself the trouble of a proper introduction."
"A prisoner? What did he do?"
He sounds surprised enough to make me think that he'll be willing to take my side if I speak up now, so why not risk it. It's not like my situation will improve much if I stay quiet and give him an opportunity to tell Liral about the circumstances of our first meeting and thereby mention another deed of mine that will make him despise me even more.
"I didn't do anything, as I have told you at least twice before you made plans to sell us over to a Drow thief in exchange for a stupid bone!" I yell quickly, drowning out any attempt at a placating lie that might have been uttered by the Lord, who gives me a look that could kill a fully grown Ogre, while Giciel seems unsurprised. He turns to me with a carefully guarded look in his eyes.
"You went back to the Drow?" He wants to know quietly.
"Back!" I echo in plain disbelief. "What do you think I am? A masochist with a death wish! Did you by any chance not see what my Master unleashed upon me when he found me missing?"
"I told you he would not be good for you."
The infuriating mage throws Andy a brief glance as he answers with a hint of the old condescension that also marked our the first minutes of our initial meeting in his tower, a trait in him that I hate with a passion. Before I can give him an angry reply though, Andy speaks up for himself, surprising me the second time this day.
"I would never intentionally hurt Toren." He says softly, but in a tone that effectively conveys the true measure of his dislike towards Giciel, who sneers in answer.
"We don't know anything about Ufrelyn's whereabouts anyway." I say, turning the general attention back to more pressing matters before the situation can escalate. "So why don't you just let us go free now that we've lost our value as bargaining goods."
My request is met with a piercing look out of Liral's eyes and a laconic: "Let you go? Only to have you running straight to these two bastards who think they can steal my most treasured possession and then make fun of me by flaunting their questionable accomplishment?"
"But why in all nine hells would I want to see them again?" I blurt out, baffled by his unexpected accusations. "They have brought me nothing but trouble since the second I first met them."
Liral is not convinced and in his, by now familiar, arrogant manner he turns to ignore me and addresses Giciel.
"Detain them and see to it that they have everything they need. I will not have it said that I treat my prisoners poorly. I will be back shortly."
This said he gives the mage a short nod and walks out without so much as another glance in my or Andy's direction, leaving the three of us in the corpse filled room. Only then I realize to my great embarrassment that I am still covered in blood and mutter without thinking: "I need a bath."
