Chained

Part Four

by Kimra

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Abrupt noise rattled that deadly sense of calm that had settled over the room. Daine jerked back from the tray, eyes flying to the source of the noise with caution. The pounding returned a second latter, more insistent, louder. Daine suppressed the growl in her throat wide eyes fixed, senses on alert.

The man sighed, a soft sound, the kind her mind connected with friendly surrender. He stood from the chair and moved towards the door. For a moment, so brief she ignored it, she worried about who waited for him on the other side of the door.

The quick click of keys, the loud thud of the door as it was pushed roughly open from the other side narrowly missing the man who had fed her as he stepped back.

"Erg!" A harsh voice grunted contrasting with the feminine smell that accompanied the stranger. The door slammed shut and the strange female stormed further into the room, past the man.

Behind the stranger the man locked the door his feet turning to face them and casually he asked something and she replied though the words where shadowed by Daine's scrutiny of the strangers scent. This stranger, this woman, smelt of lavender and blood. She smelt of deceit.

Unexpectedly light flashed before her eyes and through the room.

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"Alanna. Need to talk?" He asked as casually as he could, staring at the red head with apprehension. It was too early to deal with her, to early to deal with anything, and he was already off balanced by the mornings events.

"Of course I need to talk!" Her voice was rough with the suppressed rage, but still loud enough to be heard through the entire building. "And don't tell me to keep quite, Numair! These room's are better sound sealed then the kings spy rooms!"

He should have known that. Of course they would be magically sealed for sound considering the business they allowed to go on in these rooms. His eyes flicked only momentarily to the rustic bed across the room seeing only the one concealed chain that led from the furthest wall to below the beds frame. He saw Alanna follow his glance to the bed and felt fate setting him up for another argument with the red head.

A frown pulled at her brow, little and uncertain, her eyes flicked from the rustic bed to the lavish bed he had slept on, then back again.

"Why does your room have two beds?" she asked mildly puzzling over the scenario on her own. He doubted it would be wise to answer her especially when she was already in a mood from what she must have just discovered. The tour the night before had gotten rid of her first as if she had been unwanted. It had become apparent rather quickly afterwards why that had been.

He flicked his hand to the door, an absent gesture that came from habit over the last few years. Too often he had been worn so much that even the slightest gesture helped. His magic touched the door and expanded, quickly enveloping the entire room in a black hue that would seal them even more from prying ears.

She looked from her scrutiny of the room to him, standing like a warrior, legs apart, face hard. "You know this is a brothel don't you?"

He gave a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck eyes not leaving her. "I had the pleasure of discovering that particular piece of information last night." Her eye brow rose in question and he shuddered at the enquiring expression fixed on him. "Once they had tucked the only woman in the party away, they gave the men a proper 'tour'." His eyes darkened, he knew they had because there was a rooted anger in the pit of his being that stirred with his memory.

As if reminded, his eyes involuntarily jumped to the rusty bed and back. This time however Alanna did not notice.

"We weren't prepared for this!" Her voice rose again, that wonderfully unpredictable anger of hers rising to the surface.

"Did they offer you a man or a woman?" He asked it silkily, unimpressed with himself for letting the words escape but too aggravated to prevent them. Her eyes darkened to match his.

"I'm talking about our Job here Numair. Half the men where so unsure if they would get into trouble for it they tossed the girls out, the other half…" She rolled her own eyes to show what she thought of their behaviour the anger still simmering beneath the surface. "If we had known what we where getting into-"

"The King obviously wouldn't have sent you." He tried to sooth.

"Sending a female to a brothel would be one of the stupidest things Jonathan could do, and he knows it. It's too odd, too out of place and Grevin Debac isn't going to let you out of his sight if he thinks anything's out of place."

"So it will just take longer then we thought it would. I'll think up a fabrication to get you and most of the guards out of here without arising suspicions and then see what I can find."

"It's not going to work Numair! Besides your going to need one hell of a story to make it plausible." She was angry, very angry and just a tad agitated, but he was all to used to her reactions by now.

"I'm a spy, this is my job." He tried to be persuasive, there was no way they where leaving without the information they sought and they needed to do it as covertly as possible.

"Your only a spy this week Mage, last week if I recall you were a court layabout." There was a mocking bite to her voice.

"Yes but I've been a spy before. I'll speak with Grevin, tell him I want to get rid of you so I can enjoy the hospitality here a bit more." His eyes rolled involuntarily, even if he had purchased a nights company once or twice before this entire establishment reeked with something he would never willing associate with. "Then in front of everyone I'll give you an excuse and as you are my ignorant sister you'll accept it and be off with most of the guards. Because women are weak and need more protection." The last line was in humour, and he saw her expression scrunch in predictable disgust. "That should defuse the situation."

"In the mean time your stuck here without back up, trying to find the information we need, and fending of ravenous whores… literally." Her anger seemed to be giving way to frustration and he could perfectly understand that. The situation in less then twenty-four hours had doubled the problems it had originally presented.

"I don't think they'll bother me." He drawled it, eyes once more flicking to the bed. He could see the girls blue-grey eyes watching them, focused perfectly on their exchange and he wondered if she understood it.

"Why is that?" Her anger was replaced by curiosity.

He gestured towards the bed. "I've already got their favourite toy."

Alanna turned to look at the bed and frowned a little, she took a step towards it to investigate and immediately low growling sounded from where the girl hid. Alanna stopped her steps glanced at him to be sure it was safe then knelt down looking below the bed.

He watched as the colour fled from the warriors face her hands clasping tight against her breeches. "Is that a girl?" Her voice was soft, fragile, very much unlike her usual self her eyes still focused below the bed.

"I think it was. Once." He felt himself frowning then pushed the expression away forcing his attention onto matters of importance. "But so long as she's there I can pretend I'm using the facilities provided and if they offer me anything else I'll make it clear I'm not interested in anything else."

"Unless of course you are."

"And here I had begun to think you thought better of me."

"We all know you like your female company."

"Not here. I don't like the feel of this place."

She puffed out a harsh breath, then tried to smile. "I'll be waiting at the last village we passed through. Its in range for a summons spell if your in a fix."

"Mithros Luck, Alanna."

She looked only briefly to the bed but he felt the regret in her as she left the room. There was nothing to be done for the girl and they both knew it, but neither he nor Alanna had ever been good at believing in lost causes.

"Mithros Luck." He murmured to himself before turning back to the room and all it's troubles.

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She did not know how long it was, how long it had been since he entered the room the first time but Daine knew some time had passed. By far, more time then it had ever taken any of the previous men in the room to capture her. And she was beginning to suspect he wasn't going to do anything to her.

It was alarming, that he was so different from anything she had ever met before, because it left her weak and inattentive. If he had struck her, tried to claim her, even succeeded she would know how to deal with him, she would hide, she would scream and claw and fight, and when he wasn't near her she would stalk and hunt waiting for the weakness, for the moment of attack to arrive. But he did nothing, casting few glances at her while he was ideal in the room and her guard was beginning to drop.

This man was not prey, not an enemy, but he was not kindred nor friend and it left her confused. An emotion she had not felt for so long it was alien.

But she could not help the trust that built inside her either, the more he ignored her, or barely noticed her the more she felt he would continue to do so. Men had set such traps for her before, but never with the patience or the skill that would be required to appear as this man did. Then there was his scent, strong, easy, never cautious or aggressive and ever so calming to her frayed nerves.

He had let her eat every meal, put it at the end of the bed each time, and she could recall nearly fourteen such occasions now. She had been suspicious at first, unwilling to take the food until he had left the room, then he only had to walk away. She always checked for poison through, her noise and senses working on overdrive to be certain he did not sneak anything in without her notice.

She found herself becoming more and more curious of this oddity of a man, wondering why he did not trouble her or ignore her entirely. So she watched him from below her bed, watched his every move, but what would be caution with any other man had become lazy interest and her attention would sometimes waver from it's task to things less significant like the warmth of the day or the calming midnight breeze that bore to her the scents of the elusive forest.

She heard him curse something softly and brought her attention back to him. He was sitting at the table, a table he was at a lot, usually writing something of importance to him. Right now with his back to her she couldn't see if he was writing or not but he continued to softly mutter things to himself.

Curiously she inched from her hiding space, ready to retreat at the slightest sign of danger, and drew closer to him. She wanted to know what he was saying, what the words meant, but right then she wasn't even sure if he was speaking a language she had ever known. Still she sat in the open, silently listening to the words he spoke, trying to make herself understand them.

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