Here's chapter six – I hope you like it. I also put up a one off if
anyone's interested, called The Burning. It's really confusing and really
depressing. But read anyway. I hope u like chappie number 6. Istalindar
Early next morning, the four of us set off. We wore loose clothes, and Éowyn and I had our hair unbound. Moving low across the sand with our hair blowing in the wind made us difficult to identify as humans.
I was lucky in that I had learned much desert lore from the desert-elves, and I was able to teach the others how to move and act in the desert, and we were soon making good speed across the endless sands.
We soon caught sight of a large party, which I assumed were the Haradrim. We followed them across the sands, resting when they rested, and moving when they moved, careful not to get too close. Legolas, Aragorn Éowyn and I soon began to work together effortlessly, instinctively predicting each others moves and planning our own to match. We made a good team, and soon we were all suntanned from the desert sun, which bleached Éowyn and Legolas' hair nearly white, and turned us all various shades of bronze.
We stopped to sleep one night, which puzzled me as desert folk rarely slept at night, only during the hot day, and settled down for rest. I was uneasy that night, and found it hard to sleep. And when I did sleep, it was deep and heavy, and so unprepared.
*&*
I woke to find myself in the uncomfortable position known as body-slung. Namely when one is slung over the back of a beast of burden, and left there. Let it just be known that camels stink.
I was slung across the back of the camel on my stomach, with both my hands and my feet bound. The camel was moving at a loping run, which wasn't particularly comfortable for me. I looked up to see another camel, with Éowyn slung over it in much the same position I was, only she hadn't yet woken. Then something struck the back of my head, and I descended into blackness.
I woke when someone struck my face. I opened my eyes to look into a dark face with jet eyes. I groaned, rolled over, and threw up onto the sand.
"Get up!" The voice snarled. I was dragged to my feet, and saw Éowyn in a similar position, supported by another Haradrim. "You are now slaves to the Queen Ismiella. You will do her every bidding, without question, or you will be killed. Understand?" I nodded, although the movement sent waves of nausea through me. "Get changed. Put these on!" I picked up the ball of red silk he had thrown at me, and my jaw nearly dropped open. There was not an awful lot of fabric here.
"What are you waiting for?" The guard demanded. "Get dressed!"
"A little privacy?" I asked. He grinned wolfishly, and shook his head. I sighed, then began pulling off my tunic.
"Jané, what are you doing?" Éowyn hissed.
"Getting changed. I'd rather be alive, with little modesty, than dead." I ignored the lustful looks the guard was giving me as I stripped naked, then redressed in the red silk he had given me. It was the outfit of the belly dancers I occasionally saw at market: a long thin silk skirt that was slit almost to the hip in many places so in essence I had several panels handing from a gold embroidered waistband. There was red underwear to put on, so I was spared that particular problem. There was a red bandeau top that was cropped so high that there was near enough a foot of bare skin between the base of the top and the top of the skirt. It did little more than just about cover my breasts, although it was so form fitting it didn't exactly leave much to the imagination. The 'straps' were little more than decorative, as support obviously wasn't high on their list of useful attributes. The straps were gold chains studded with obsidian and jet, which crossed just before my throat and fastened to the back of the top.
When I looked over at Éowyn, I saw that she had changed her clothes, and they were more modest than mine were. I found this somewhat unfair, but decided that I could deal with the immodesty better than she could. Her outfit was similar to mine, only it was a teal green colour. The slits didn't go so high on the skirt, and she had a crossover top, so she at least had serviceable straps on her top. It looked good on her, I had to admit.
Then the guards suddenly moved forward and before I had a chance to react, there was a bronze band fastened around my left ankle, connected to a chain held by the guard. I found Éowyn in the same predicament. Then the guards gave us a push, and we were guided to the grandest tent in what appeared to be a city of tents.
*&*
The tent was huge. Inside it was dim and stuff, although richly furnished. We were led before a chair that stood on a dais, although I could not see the face of the person who sat there. The guards kicked the back of our legs and Éowyn and I fell to our knees before the chair.
"What have you got here?" The voice issued from the chair. I froze, then forced myself to relax. At least she wasn't dead.
"Slaves, your majesty. We found them in the desert. We decided to bring them to you as a gift." The figure moved, and stepped into the torchlight. Bria stood, wearing sky blue silk that wrapped around her waist and draped across her shoulders. Beneath, I could see a sky blue top.
"Stand them up." She ordered. Éowyn and I stood. She looked at us in the light, but there was no recognition in her eyes, which were strangely blank, the pupils dilated. "I like the look of them. I shall keep them." The guards bowed.
That afternoon, Éowyn and I were roughly held while an old man with a red hot needle approached us. He came first to me, and I held back screams as he carved the image of a sun onto my stomach, filling in the lines with black ink until I had a black sun tattooed just left of my belly button. Then he turned to Éowyn and repeated the process, and she showed her true willpower when she made not a sound as her skin was marred.
*&*
Bria was known to the Haradrim as Ismiella. She was their much-adored queen, and what she said was law. As time passed, it became clear that she had no memory of her time as Bria of Anorondor. Éowyn and I both had to be very careful not to upset her, as she could kill us on a whim.
She discovered my dancing talent by accident, and that increased my status in her eyes by a significant proportion. She enjoyed watching me dance to the drums and pipes she called often to play for her, and soon she gifted me with a red silk scarf from which hung many gold coins which made musical sounds when they struck each other. Éowyn and I were always shackled, though, so I had to adapt the dances to allow for that.
We had been slaves to Bria for a week and a half when the same guards that had caught us brought Legolas and Aragorn before us. I saw both their eyes widen as they saw the three of us. Bria was sat in her chair, although Éowyn and I were draped as comfortably as possible across piles of cushions. Thinking about it, we were probably were in fairly whorish positions, not that I really cared.
"Queen Ismiella, we have brought you these, who were following us." Bria stood, then she laughed. Turning to us, she smiled impishly.
"What do you think, my girls?" she asked. I rose slowly, the coins on my belt clinking together, and went to Legolas. I touched his cheek, then turned back to Bria.
"You are always right, my queen." I said softly. "Your judgement stands. But think how it would look to have an elf as a slave." Legolas looked sharply at me, and Bria clapped her hands in delight.
"You are right!" she exclaimed. "I shall have them both! Then I shall have two pairs!" I mentally rolled my eyes at her, but I bowed my head and returned to her side. "Can either of you dance?" she asked. Legolas looked at me, stood behind Bria, and I nodded.
"I can, majesty." He said quietly.
"Excellent. Then you and Nierra shall dance together, and you will be all the more spectacular for it!"
*&*
Spectacular was certainly one word to describe what the two of them looked like when they returned. They had been given loose breeches in black and grey, to offset our red and sea-green. Neither men looked pleased at the shackle on his ankle though.
"Dance! Nierra, dance with the sun-man!" Bria ordered. The drums began a steady beat, and I led Legolas in the dance until he understood how it was done, at which point we led each other, and tested both our gymnastic skills, and how fast we could move around each other. We were nearly as fast as each other, for although Legolas was elven, I was half-elven, from my father.
When the dance finished, Bria was smiling, which was always a good thing. If she was smiling, she generally wasn't thinking about executing people.
That night, Bria fastened out chains to the ring in the floor. Her tent had a stone floor which was dragged by an elephant when we were moving, it was that heavy. Attached to the floor, we definitely weren't going anywhere.
"What on earth is going on?" Aragorn hissed.
"We're slaves to Queen Ismiella." I answered, rolling onto my stomach and bending my legs at the knee.
"You mean Princess Bria." Legolas corrected.
"No, I don't. she doesn't remember that at all. At the moment she is Queen Ismiella, who is the ruler of the Ennuia tribe." Legolas shrugged. His eyes caught sight of the tattoo that was on Éowyn's stomach. It was healing well, although it would remain there for the rest of her life.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It's a mark of belonging. I imagine you'll get one too." I answered easily. Éowyn lay on her back, staring at the ceiling., her white-gold hair spread around her.
"I miss home." She said softly. I raised myself onto my forearms and dragged myself across the floor, careful that I did not rattle my chain too much.
"We'll get there." I answered, taking her hand. She turned her head to face me.
"With Bria." She added. "I didn't come all the way south, become a slave and get a tattoo just to leave without her." I smiled.
"You're right." I heard a rattle of chains, and saw Legolas standing. "No!" I hissed. I leapt forwards and knocked him flat to his back. There was a whistle, and then nine darts buried themselves in the far side of the tent. I looked down at him, and abruptly realised our position – I was laying completely on top of him. I quickly moved away. "Don't stand up." I said unnecessarily. I avoided looking at Legolas after that, though I could feel his gave resting on me often.
*&*
Early next morning, the four of us set off. We wore loose clothes, and Éowyn and I had our hair unbound. Moving low across the sand with our hair blowing in the wind made us difficult to identify as humans.
I was lucky in that I had learned much desert lore from the desert-elves, and I was able to teach the others how to move and act in the desert, and we were soon making good speed across the endless sands.
We soon caught sight of a large party, which I assumed were the Haradrim. We followed them across the sands, resting when they rested, and moving when they moved, careful not to get too close. Legolas, Aragorn Éowyn and I soon began to work together effortlessly, instinctively predicting each others moves and planning our own to match. We made a good team, and soon we were all suntanned from the desert sun, which bleached Éowyn and Legolas' hair nearly white, and turned us all various shades of bronze.
We stopped to sleep one night, which puzzled me as desert folk rarely slept at night, only during the hot day, and settled down for rest. I was uneasy that night, and found it hard to sleep. And when I did sleep, it was deep and heavy, and so unprepared.
*&*
I woke to find myself in the uncomfortable position known as body-slung. Namely when one is slung over the back of a beast of burden, and left there. Let it just be known that camels stink.
I was slung across the back of the camel on my stomach, with both my hands and my feet bound. The camel was moving at a loping run, which wasn't particularly comfortable for me. I looked up to see another camel, with Éowyn slung over it in much the same position I was, only she hadn't yet woken. Then something struck the back of my head, and I descended into blackness.
I woke when someone struck my face. I opened my eyes to look into a dark face with jet eyes. I groaned, rolled over, and threw up onto the sand.
"Get up!" The voice snarled. I was dragged to my feet, and saw Éowyn in a similar position, supported by another Haradrim. "You are now slaves to the Queen Ismiella. You will do her every bidding, without question, or you will be killed. Understand?" I nodded, although the movement sent waves of nausea through me. "Get changed. Put these on!" I picked up the ball of red silk he had thrown at me, and my jaw nearly dropped open. There was not an awful lot of fabric here.
"What are you waiting for?" The guard demanded. "Get dressed!"
"A little privacy?" I asked. He grinned wolfishly, and shook his head. I sighed, then began pulling off my tunic.
"Jané, what are you doing?" Éowyn hissed.
"Getting changed. I'd rather be alive, with little modesty, than dead." I ignored the lustful looks the guard was giving me as I stripped naked, then redressed in the red silk he had given me. It was the outfit of the belly dancers I occasionally saw at market: a long thin silk skirt that was slit almost to the hip in many places so in essence I had several panels handing from a gold embroidered waistband. There was red underwear to put on, so I was spared that particular problem. There was a red bandeau top that was cropped so high that there was near enough a foot of bare skin between the base of the top and the top of the skirt. It did little more than just about cover my breasts, although it was so form fitting it didn't exactly leave much to the imagination. The 'straps' were little more than decorative, as support obviously wasn't high on their list of useful attributes. The straps were gold chains studded with obsidian and jet, which crossed just before my throat and fastened to the back of the top.
When I looked over at Éowyn, I saw that she had changed her clothes, and they were more modest than mine were. I found this somewhat unfair, but decided that I could deal with the immodesty better than she could. Her outfit was similar to mine, only it was a teal green colour. The slits didn't go so high on the skirt, and she had a crossover top, so she at least had serviceable straps on her top. It looked good on her, I had to admit.
Then the guards suddenly moved forward and before I had a chance to react, there was a bronze band fastened around my left ankle, connected to a chain held by the guard. I found Éowyn in the same predicament. Then the guards gave us a push, and we were guided to the grandest tent in what appeared to be a city of tents.
*&*
The tent was huge. Inside it was dim and stuff, although richly furnished. We were led before a chair that stood on a dais, although I could not see the face of the person who sat there. The guards kicked the back of our legs and Éowyn and I fell to our knees before the chair.
"What have you got here?" The voice issued from the chair. I froze, then forced myself to relax. At least she wasn't dead.
"Slaves, your majesty. We found them in the desert. We decided to bring them to you as a gift." The figure moved, and stepped into the torchlight. Bria stood, wearing sky blue silk that wrapped around her waist and draped across her shoulders. Beneath, I could see a sky blue top.
"Stand them up." She ordered. Éowyn and I stood. She looked at us in the light, but there was no recognition in her eyes, which were strangely blank, the pupils dilated. "I like the look of them. I shall keep them." The guards bowed.
That afternoon, Éowyn and I were roughly held while an old man with a red hot needle approached us. He came first to me, and I held back screams as he carved the image of a sun onto my stomach, filling in the lines with black ink until I had a black sun tattooed just left of my belly button. Then he turned to Éowyn and repeated the process, and she showed her true willpower when she made not a sound as her skin was marred.
*&*
Bria was known to the Haradrim as Ismiella. She was their much-adored queen, and what she said was law. As time passed, it became clear that she had no memory of her time as Bria of Anorondor. Éowyn and I both had to be very careful not to upset her, as she could kill us on a whim.
She discovered my dancing talent by accident, and that increased my status in her eyes by a significant proportion. She enjoyed watching me dance to the drums and pipes she called often to play for her, and soon she gifted me with a red silk scarf from which hung many gold coins which made musical sounds when they struck each other. Éowyn and I were always shackled, though, so I had to adapt the dances to allow for that.
We had been slaves to Bria for a week and a half when the same guards that had caught us brought Legolas and Aragorn before us. I saw both their eyes widen as they saw the three of us. Bria was sat in her chair, although Éowyn and I were draped as comfortably as possible across piles of cushions. Thinking about it, we were probably were in fairly whorish positions, not that I really cared.
"Queen Ismiella, we have brought you these, who were following us." Bria stood, then she laughed. Turning to us, she smiled impishly.
"What do you think, my girls?" she asked. I rose slowly, the coins on my belt clinking together, and went to Legolas. I touched his cheek, then turned back to Bria.
"You are always right, my queen." I said softly. "Your judgement stands. But think how it would look to have an elf as a slave." Legolas looked sharply at me, and Bria clapped her hands in delight.
"You are right!" she exclaimed. "I shall have them both! Then I shall have two pairs!" I mentally rolled my eyes at her, but I bowed my head and returned to her side. "Can either of you dance?" she asked. Legolas looked at me, stood behind Bria, and I nodded.
"I can, majesty." He said quietly.
"Excellent. Then you and Nierra shall dance together, and you will be all the more spectacular for it!"
*&*
Spectacular was certainly one word to describe what the two of them looked like when they returned. They had been given loose breeches in black and grey, to offset our red and sea-green. Neither men looked pleased at the shackle on his ankle though.
"Dance! Nierra, dance with the sun-man!" Bria ordered. The drums began a steady beat, and I led Legolas in the dance until he understood how it was done, at which point we led each other, and tested both our gymnastic skills, and how fast we could move around each other. We were nearly as fast as each other, for although Legolas was elven, I was half-elven, from my father.
When the dance finished, Bria was smiling, which was always a good thing. If she was smiling, she generally wasn't thinking about executing people.
That night, Bria fastened out chains to the ring in the floor. Her tent had a stone floor which was dragged by an elephant when we were moving, it was that heavy. Attached to the floor, we definitely weren't going anywhere.
"What on earth is going on?" Aragorn hissed.
"We're slaves to Queen Ismiella." I answered, rolling onto my stomach and bending my legs at the knee.
"You mean Princess Bria." Legolas corrected.
"No, I don't. she doesn't remember that at all. At the moment she is Queen Ismiella, who is the ruler of the Ennuia tribe." Legolas shrugged. His eyes caught sight of the tattoo that was on Éowyn's stomach. It was healing well, although it would remain there for the rest of her life.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It's a mark of belonging. I imagine you'll get one too." I answered easily. Éowyn lay on her back, staring at the ceiling., her white-gold hair spread around her.
"I miss home." She said softly. I raised myself onto my forearms and dragged myself across the floor, careful that I did not rattle my chain too much.
"We'll get there." I answered, taking her hand. She turned her head to face me.
"With Bria." She added. "I didn't come all the way south, become a slave and get a tattoo just to leave without her." I smiled.
"You're right." I heard a rattle of chains, and saw Legolas standing. "No!" I hissed. I leapt forwards and knocked him flat to his back. There was a whistle, and then nine darts buried themselves in the far side of the tent. I looked down at him, and abruptly realised our position – I was laying completely on top of him. I quickly moved away. "Don't stand up." I said unnecessarily. I avoided looking at Legolas after that, though I could feel his gave resting on me often.
*&*