Author's Note: I do not now, nor have I ever owned anything to do with Blizzard or World of Warcraft. As you've probably guessed, the compound, and Jinny's home village mentioned in this story is completely fictional and does not exist in game whatsoever. Creative liberties and all that. Thank you to all of those who read and review my story. Thank you also to those who've added my story to their favorite list, etc. You all have made me so much more confident in my writing. Oh, and I was wrong...there will not be only one or two more chapters...there will be many. I underestimated all that needed to be written yet. =)
Devante had surprised Jin'ala with a tour of the grounds, though she was sure it was to show her how many guards were posted rather than a sight seeing tour. They'd moved easily through the large passage ways of the manor house. Devante, pointing out the historical bits and bobs he'd acquired over the years, neglected to notice the increasingly dark expression falling over the woman's features. Or maybe that was what he'd expected to see?
She sighed. Not that she cared what he expected of her. Nothing mattered much anymore now that her Warrior was dead. What did it matter if she escaped? She wondered if she'd even been missed. Probably not. She had no family to speak of, save a long lost wandering Uncle who lived somewhere on Kalimdor. The only one who had any knowledge of her whereabouts was the Warrior. She hadn't had a chance to send the Magisters a message regarding her location and how close she'd been to Shattrath. She had sent similar messages from Andorhol and Tarren Mill. Indeed, anywhere they'd stopped that had an Inn and a mail box. Though now it had been almost two weeks since they'd left Stonnard and made their way to the Dark Portal.
Jin'ala jumped when a shock of dark energy ripped through her shoulder and skittered across her body, ripping her mind from its bleak musings. Devante's grip on her upper arm remained loose and casual as he spoke.
"Miss Mouring?" he asked with light concern drawing his brows together. "Are you alright? You haven't spoken since we left the conservatory." The mage simply nodded, unable to find her voice. "Are you weary? Would you like to rest?" Again, she nodded, silently grateful that there would be distance between them. "Very well," he turned to a footman who Jinny hadn't even seen standing close by. "Unfortunately, I have some pressing matters to attend to. Croxl, here, will escort you back to your room. Rest well, Miss Mouring." He gently took her hand and bowed, brushing his thin lips softly against her knuckles. She shuddered. Light, how she hated his touch! Jinny couldn't mistake the pleased smirk that drew the one side of his mouth up. "Until our next meeting."
Instantly, she was whisked away by a strong hand on her elbow. She decided that she didn't like this man either. He was too rough, his grip too tight, all but steering her with the uncaring coolness of a master over his hawkstrider. That rankled her. She was no bird. She inwardly smiled at the thought of freezing her terribly rude escort to the spot, but astutely held herself in check.
Safely back in her room, she quickly made a mental map of the grounds. She'd discovered that she was, indeed, in the tower she'd dreamed about. Though, some of the details had been off, it was definitely the same tower. A single spire with a grand staircase that wrapped around the outside, this one, thankfully, with a safety railing. She walked over to the table and picked up the water pitcher. Jinny had almost begun to pour herself a glass when she remembered what it had tasted like. A quick look at the door reminded her that it had been locked, from the outside of course. She turned and strode out onto the balcony. A quick glance told her no one was beneath, and she poured the transparent liquid from the vessel.
Lounging against the railing, the tiny mage closed her eyes, clearing her mind. Silently, she formed the ancient words that would fill the crystal carafe with cool, sweet water. When she'd finished the spell, Jin'ala opened her eyes knowing there was something wrong. The pitcher hadn't grown heavier as she was accustomed to. The crystal had not turned colder. She hadn't even noticed the usual blue tint to her vision when her spell was complete.
What the fel was wrong? The woman tried the spell once more. Enunciating every word perfectly, the Mage voiced the incantation aloud. Again, the carafe did not grow heavy, there was no azure tint, no sensation of the pitcher filling with water. Frustrated, she set the crystal container back onto the table, probably a little harder than she should have, and she winced.
"While I can understand your irritation, I must ask you to be careful of the Crystal." Jin'ala spun around almost crying out in surprise. Her host continued, bestowing her with the warmest of smiles. "I do apologize for your inconvenience. I'm sure you'll understand that certain..." he searched for the right word, "...precautions had to be taken to ensure your full cooperation. Alas, as unfortunate as it may seem, this is what is best for the moment." He studied her for a moment before resuming his decidedly one sided conversation. "I have had a meal prepared in honor of your arrival. Please, allow me to escort you to the dining hall."
It was more an order, rather than a request, punctuated by his proffering of his arm for her to take. The little elf merely stared at his arm, clad in a silken robe that reflected the elevated lifestyle this man so obviously thought he deserved.
"I am sorry, my lord, but if you'll forgive me, I would prefer to change my attire. I did not expect to be a dinner guest tonight. If I may have but fifteen minutes to redress?" How she hoped he would allow her this. She had no desire whatsoever to touch him, much less have him come within an arm's length of her. Though, she had no idea how to disentangle herself from this invitation, if that's what you could call it, for dinner. She needed more time to think.
He chuckled. "My dear, Miss Mouring. There's no need for such formalities here." The fel of his eyes grew darker. "Not in light of the current situation. Please, call me Devante. Or even Devan, if you so wish." Jinny nodded, remaining silent. He smiled at her, raising a brow expectantly.
Blast! He was waiting! Jin'ala chose her words carefully. "Would it be alright if I took some time to change?" she asked quietly.
His smile remained constant, though he shifted to face her fully, clasping his hands behind his back. Devante repeated what she'd said. "'Would it be alright if I took some time to change'...Devante?" he corrected.
The very thought of his name on her lips left a bitter taste in her mouth. She swallowed once, and again. "May I have some time..." her mouth had gone dry but she pressed on, determined to not allow this man to affect her. One more try. "May I have some time, D-Devante?" She shuddered, looking away. Why did his name do that to her? It was just a name, wasn't it? So, why did his name evoke such a feeling of dread? Jinny took a steadying breath. Slowly, she raised his eyes to meet his. She steeled herself and looked at the tall man with whatever courage she could muster.
The mage was quite taken aback by the expression that greeted her gaze. A dark, smouldering expression was cast across his face. In the blink of an eye, he was before her, his arm snaked around her slim waist, her body crushed against his. The fel in his eyes roiled as it turned a deep forest green. His lips were only a breath away.
"Say it again," he commanded.
Jinny shifted in his embrace, trying to break free. She couldn't breathe he was holding her so tightly. Her nerves screamed out at his touch. Swirling shadows clouded her vision. Bracing her hands against his broad chest, she tried to push him away. Panic caused her voice to waiver, "Plea-please. Let me go."
His grip tightened. "Say it again," he grit, his voice thick. When she remained silent, he shook her. "Say it again!" he demanded.
"I...I don't know what you mean." Jinny struggled against him, trying to free herself. "Say what again?"
"My name. Say it again." Was he pleading? He sounded so desperate. She couldn't understand why this was so important. The woman pushed against him again though his grip on her remained firm.
"De-Devante-"
Jin'ala gasped as his lips crashed into hers. Devante's hungry kiss seared her mouth. His hands roamed over her back as she desperately fought to get away. He relinquished her mouth only to drag his lips along her jaw and neck, lightly nipping the tender flesh at her shoulder
"No, please, no! Let me go! Let me..." He silenced her with another kiss, this time plundering her mouth with his tongue. She fought more intensely, tears sliding down her cheeks. A hand came up to the back of her neck to hold her still as its partner slid even further down her back to her hips. He pressed her into his full length, his need plainly evident beneath his robes. Light help her! Did he really mean to do this? How was she going to get out of this? She could barely breathe with the assault to her lips. The energy that seemed to emanate from him was seeping into her skin, her nerves were on fire yet, freezing at the same time. A painful groan welled in her throat.
Finally, Devante leaned back, examining her face. Jin'ala turned her head away from him, tears still streaming from her eyes as she cinched them tightly shut. She couldn't bare to look at him. Please let me go, she silently prayed to the gods. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go. The chant echoed through her head.
"My dear, sweet child," he said as he gently brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "Why do you tremble? I mean you no harm." The woman in his arms remained unresponsive, shaking from silent sobs. At last, he released her. Her knees almost gave out with relief but she refused to give him any reason to gather her back into his toxic embrace. She quickly retreated to the wardrobe and threw the doors open as if she were searching for a dress to wear. Hopefully he would take the hint that she wanted a little privacy to change. He did, and left so quietly that when she peered over her shoulder, she was surprised that he was gone.
Jinny breathed a sigh, collapsing onto the floor with her skirts piled around her. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, speckling her robes with dark teal splotches. She'd never been so scared. She couldn't let him that close to her again. Especially if she found herself alone with him. What was that energy he gave off? Why did it have that effect on her? How could she stop it?
The quiet tapping at the door caused her head to jerk in that direction. Her eyes grew wide with fear. If he saw her on the floor, he'd undoubtedly try to help her up. She couldn't have that. Quickly swiping the tears from her face she walked over to the basin and poured some water from the pitcher, taking the small, white cloth and soaking it. "I'm nearly ready. Just a few more minutes, please?" she asked after clearing her throat of the lump that seemed to linger there.
"As you wish, my lady." The unfamiliar voice was muffled by the heavy wood of the door and she relaxed, albeit only a little. Good, he'd sent a servant to take her to dinner. Her shoulders slumped at the thought of spending dinner with him. But, Light, she had to get through this. She had to find a way to escape. She had to... She sighed. First things first. She had to find a suitable dress to go to dinner in.
A set of double oak doors loomed in front of her. Light conversation of distinctly male voices trickled from the room behind, but soon was silenced altogether as the man sent to escort her to dinner gently rapped on the intricately carved wood. He dropped her elbow and entered the room, bidding her to wait until she was announced.
The man's voice was suddenly strong and confident. "My lords. May I present, Lady Mouring of the late Bloodsong Village." The servant stepped aside and invited her to enter. Her feet seemed frozen to the spot. Light help me, she prayed silently, and took a step. Then another. Jinny stopped as soon as her feet were across the threshold. Most of the occupants of the room were male. A small group of 3 women were gathered in a corner of the room whispered quietly, while the men, gathered around Devante, stopped and stared.
Jinny had never had this much attention on her, and she blushed, embarrassed by it. The little mage averted her eyes, suddenly, and inexplicably, finding her shoes quite interesting. How she wished she could simply blend into the wall. A second set of shoes had approached her. Boots. Layered over black trousers, at the top of which a black shirt was tucked in and accessorized by a thick belt made of dark leather and held together by a large, ornate silver buckle. Devante's long, white hair was tied in a tail and secured by a wide leather thong.
His eyes swept appreciatively over her figure. "You look stunning, my dear," he whispered to her. Forcing a smile to her lips, she bobbed a curtsey, stopping midway when he added, "Even if the dress is altered." He'd noticed. Well, it didn't really matter all that much. So what if she had taken a swatch of cloth and pinned it to the inside of the neckline of her dress? The cloth covered what the plunging collar of the gown did not. Unfortunately, all of the other dresses in the wardrobe were just as revealing, if not more so. The pale yellow fabric contrasted greatly with her dark red hair, but seemed to make her skin glow a soft, peachy color.
Devante gave her one last look before motioning her to a seat at the end of the table. "You must be famished, darling. Please, come sit. Dinner will be served shortly." She sent up a silent word of thanks when he made no move to offer his arm.
Apparently, the entire party had been waiting on her. Everyone moved to their seats at the table and sat down, chatting excitedly about the coming meal. As if on cue, servants came out of the woodwork, pouring drinks, spooning food onto elegant plates. Jinny tentatively sipped her wine as conversations flew all around her, sighing with relief when it tasted just as it should have. At least one thing wasn't marred by the fel energy that was so prevalent in this unpleasant place.
At least she wouldn't have to worry about unwanted advances while there were other people around. Maybe she could finally focus on an escape plan. No one seemed to be paying her any attention and she certainly felt no obligations to entertain anyone. She hadn't realized how tense she was until she felt her shoulders relax. Another sip of wine and she was able to drown out the chatter, losing herself to her thoughts. Thoughts that were racing through the map of the compound she had created in her mind. Somehow, she had to find the fault. She had to find the weak spot.
"Wouldn't you agree, Miss Mouring?" Devante's voice cut through her concentration.
She blinked. "I'm sorry?" she responded.
"Wouldn't you agree, Miss Mouring, that the institution of marriage is, really, only necessary for the forming of offspring? To populate, if you will."
Jinny tilted her head to the side in consideration of the question. How should she answer that? Should she answer? Finally, she softly cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully. "I believe that marriage is necessary for more than simply forming offspring. It is the proclamation of love between two people. Offspring can be formed outside of marriage, but a proclamation of love can receive no higher honor." Suddenly, she realized that everyone at the table was looking at her in dead silence and a deep crimson splashed across her cheeks . She looked down at the food on her plate that had gone untouched, pushing it around with her fork.
His hearty laugh startled her, causing her to cast a glance at him. "Love? What is love?" Her blush spilled down her neck as the rest of the dinner guests tittered along with their host. His smoldering gaze settled once more on her. "My dear Miss Mouring. Love is nothing more than a smattering of useless emotions derived from a basic lust. Love is perceived only when that lust becomes an obsession."
Laughter erupted anew around the table as the woman blushed. Approving nods bobbed as appreciative whispers accompanied the jovial atmosphere. Jinny couldn't help the feeling that everyone at the table knew more about her being here than she did. That didn't sit well at all. She hated being in the dark. She placated herself with the thought that she wouldn't be there much longer. She'd just have to sit and wait for the opportunity to present itself.
In the meantime, she didn't need to be quite so accommodating all the time. The little mage raised her head and looked directly at Devante Givano. "I tend to disagree. Anyone who has been in love can tell you that the emotion goes even deeper than a lusty obsession. It isn't even solely an emotion, for that matter. It is a deep need. A need to be accepted, and to accept. A need to protect, and to be protected. An urge to spend the rest of one's life with someone else no matter what the consequences or hardships. Even those with a banal attitude toward the idea of marriage could come to that conclusion." She paused, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But, I'm sure you already knew that."
Silence once again dominated the dinning room only broken every now and then with the occasional whisper. Jinny cast a sideways glance at the man at the head of the table. A bemused smile was still stretched across his mouth, though his eyes belied his jovial attitude. Deep, rolling shadows swirled in the fel of his dark green eyes. Jin'ala had openly contradicted their alpha male. Devante was accustomed to everyone and everything just falling at his feet. Well, she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She'd rather sleep with one of the Ogres that clumsily stomped around Nagrand.
The tiny woman was determined not to be that little 'damsel in distress' who crumbled into a pile of tears at the thought of being kidnapped. She would fight. Her tiny smile remained at the side of her lips as she stabbed her fork into a piece of meat and popped it into her mouth. Jinny wasn't stupid, though. She knew to only push things so far. She had to be smart about this, there was nothing to be gained by infuriating him constantly. Once was enough for today, she supposed.