Taelin's Story

Author’s Notes: I’m sorry if this chapter doesn’t quite “jive” it was really hard for me to write, and I suffered many blocks throughout. Hopefully my muses have returned now.

~~~***~~~

The naked woman collapsed to the floor in a shivering heap, and cried. The stone room was chillingly cold, and the physical discomfort only served to deepen the emotional pain she felt. Her life now depended upon the conception of a child. Her lover’s child.

The elf watched, silently, from across the room. His heart broke for the anguish radiating from the woman. He longed to hold her in his arms, to comfort her once more. Master had said something to her, something terrible. He was almost afraid to ask.

“Melamin?” (my love) Taelin said softly, as he crossed the room as far as his restraints would allow. “Daela?”

Red-rimmed, green eyes looked up at him slowly. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and she was breathing shakily with her sobs.

“S-So c-cold.” She managed to whisper through her sobs, pleading with her eyes for help.

Taelin nodded, and scanned the room quickly. At first look, his heart sank. It appeared that Master had taken everything with him. The blankets. Her dress. The spare clothes. Everything.

He was about to tell her the bad news when he noticed the small heap of rags by the bed. It had been an old tunic, he remembered, and hoped there was enough of it left. Picking up the soiled cloth, he izedized there wasn’t much left, but it was better than nothing.

“Daela, melamin, (my love) I cannot reach you at the wall.” He began, bringing the tunic to the end of his chains once more. “I found the old tunic you used for bandages not long ago. There is little left of it I’m afraid, but it is all we have.”

She nodded, and reached out for the ratty tunic. Sliding it over her head, she let out a frustrated sigh. While the garment hung down to her knees, it was very threadbare and full of holes. The scratchy, gray fabric hung from her shoulders in airy folds. The neck being too large for her slight frame, slid lazily off one shoulder. Daela stood, shivering still. She looked terribly afraid, and Taelin knew there was little he could do to her her. He felt the need to protect her now, though why, he knew not.

“Taelin … I’m scared.” Her voice held a terrible tremble to it.

“I am, too, Daela,” He gave her a tiny smile of understanding. “May I ask what he said to you, nin ind?” (my heart)

She nodded, and proceeded to tell her Elven lover of the threat. After telling him, she collapsed to the floor, feeling more alone than ever before. Even though they shared the room, they were denied the simple comfort of each other’s arms. Their fingertips could touch, but only if they stretched to do so.

~*~

The following weeks were filled with much the same things. It seemed that the men took even more enjoyment from beating the elf in front of Daela. Her gasps and whimpers on his behalf seemed only to excite things further. It became a daily ritual, for whoever had the need to take out their frustrations.

It seemed, however, that Master had given some order that the woman was not to be touched. She was fed, and treated much better than Taelin. They even brought her a change of hes hes and some blankets. The bed was also pulled to her side of the room, a matter she argued.

Three months had now passed, since her imprisonment in the little stone room. Now, as she sat on the little bed in the darkness, she knew that her life was safe. She was pregnant.

She looked at the dark shadow that was her lover, huddled in the opposite corner. He had received some rather violent beatings earlier that day, and she was sure he was probably asleep. He had looked awful when the men had finally left him black, blue and bleeding on the hard stone floor.

With a sigh Daela laid back on the little bed, her hand protectively over her still-flat stomach. Her thoughts drifted to thoughts of the child growing within her. There had to be some way for her to protect the child, some way to keep it safe from the horrible fate promised. When sleep finally came, she whispered Taelin’s name before it eventually claimed her.

When morning arrived, the battered elf rose slowly from the floor. He refused to give in to sleep for any longer than was absolutely needed because of the fear that someone might cause harm to the woman whilst he slept. There wasn’t really anything he could do even while awake, but the thought of sleeping through a chance to aid her, chilled his soul.

His ladylove lay huddled on the tiny bed, curled protectively around herself. She shivered from the cold of the room, having no blankets with which to warm herself. The young elf longed to lie beside her, to simply hold her in his arms. He craved her warmth. The gentleness of her touch, or to simply feel her moist breath upon his bruised skin.

As he stood and watched her sleeping peacefully, his hearing started registering the approaching steps up the corridor outside. Two sets. One was very familiar, and sent a stream of cold sweat down his spine. Master. The other steps were unknown, a stranger.

Moving into action, quickly. Taelin stepped quickly to the end of his restraints. He was determined to wake the sleeping woman. The force with which Master would wake her scared him, and so he called her name.

“Daela! Daela, wake up! He’s coming, nin ind, you must wake!” His voice held a far more frantic pitch than he had meant to.

The exhausted woman’s eyes snapped open at the cry. She leapt to her feet, and stood shivering in the cold gloom. The lovers’ eyes met, and they held each other’s glance as the door slowly opened. A small man was thrown into the room, and nearly fell upon the floor at Taelin’s feet. His eyes growing wide as he followed the long naked legs and body up to the fair elven face looking down at him.

The little man seemed unable to pull his eyes away from the graceful, yerturrtured being in front of him. He was entranced by the smooth white skin, the long elegant limbs, the piercing blue eyes that gazed down at him with such intelligence and age. Slowly he climbed to his feet, feeling slightly dwarfed by the tall elf.

“Beg pardon, it’s just I never seen one of yer kind before.” He said in a tiny voice, as if in answer to the slightly questioning look on the elf’s face.

“Don’t bother with him! He’s nothing, Rowley, and not what I brought ye here for.” Master said dismissively, as he grasped the little man’s arm and spun him around. “It’s her.”

Taelin watched stiffly as the little man slowly approached Daela. He knew there was nothing he could do should she need his help, and it nearly drove him mad. Daela’s ping ing eyes never left his, until Rowley laid his hands on her arm. She nearly jumped clear out of her skin, and pressed her trembling body against the wall, wishing she could disappear within its depths.

“I’m sorry, milady. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Rowley spoke in a very calm voice, trying to soothe with his very words. “I’m a healer, you see.”

The little healer seemed to look the trembling woman from head to toe and back again. He closed his eyes painfully at the sight of the manacle around the woman’s ankle, and the dried blood that had seeped from the wounds it inflicted. She was terrified, he could tell that. He could also feel the steely gaze of the silent elf, upon his back. It was the most uncomfortable position he’d ever been in.

“Ma’am, please. Will you allow me to examine you?”

Everyone in the room watched as a green flush seemed to spread across Daela’s face. Her eyes grew wide with sudden realization, before she doubled over and was sick all over the rough stone floor. The little healer rushed forward, and grasped her hair behind her back. He rubbed her back and made soothing sounds to her. When her heaving seemed to have subsided he guided her to the bed and turned his attention to Master.

“Why did you ask me here, sir?” He asked quietly as he continued to rub Daela’s back softly.

“I wanna know if she be with child.” Master said matter of factly, as he polished his fingernails on the breast of his tunic.

Taelin stood by, silent as ever, but ever watchful. He, once again, longed to hold his lover, to be able to comfort her at this time. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Master slowly approaching him, turning wide-eyed to face the man. He couldn’t possibly be thinking about what it seemed. The man couldn’t possibly be considering doing something in front of the healer, could he?

The young elf got his answer soon enough, as he was pressed harshly against the wall on the opposite side of the room. He tried everything he could to keep the fear from his eyes, and bit his lip to keep from crying out. The man’s rough hands slid down the silky elvish skin, teasing and caressing as they went. Taelin spared a glance to check the status of the medical exam going on on the other side of the room. His attention was, however, pulled back to the lusting man in front of him, as his lips were caught in a bruising kiss.

At the sound of a tiny gasp, the healer looked up and was disgusted by what he saw. He pitied the poor elf, who was chained and unable to get away from the advances of the large man. He turned his attention back to the examination, only to find the woman sobbing as she watched the events unfolding behind the healer. With a little nod, he stood up and cleared his throat.

“Ye finished already?” Master asked, clearly annoyed at having been stopped from gaining his pleasure from the elf.

“I am.” Rowley said softly, getting to his feet.

“Well, dun keep me waiting! Is she or ain’t she?” Master spat annoyed.

“Aye, my lord. She is with child.”

“Perfect!” A queer sort of smile grew across Master’s face, as he purposefully crossed the room, and dragged the healer out, shutting the door behind him.

Taelin felt his legs collapse beneath him, at the news. Sitting heavily on the floor, his tear-filled eyes met Daela’s. He tried to grasp this news. She was with child. His child. A small smile formed upon his face, something that rarely happened. He was going to be a father. For a few brief moments, their circumstances melted away, and Taelin allowed himself to be truly happy for the first time since he had left his childhood home.