Authors Note: As promised, this chapter will focus far more on the carnal parts of the relationship. The plot deepens, and we familiarize ourselves with Viara's allies. Longer this time as well. Let us know if you have any questions or comments!
Haern was awake before Viara was even out of reverie. He took the time to go through what little belongings he had left, including the scraps of paper he used to sketch Leilana when he knew the woman wasn't watching. Over the past few days, things had grown almost comfortable with the woman.
They had their little routine. She did her things - he cleaned, made sure everything in her chambers was where it should be, and they would spar in what passed for evenings in this gods-forsaken place. She had not forced him to...serve, as she called it, for several days now.
She is even starting to...well, not trust, exactly. Drow do not trust. She seems to at least start to anticipate. And understand. Seems to make genuine efforts at keeping things...congenial.
Today, however, was different - which was why he was up early. She'd let him know that they would be visiting the elves she knew, and she would bring his as a servant.
A few days ago, she'd brought him what she referred to as the house livery. It fit him well - though he would not go so far as to say it suited him. The black tunic with a blood-red symbol which he'd understood to be their house sigil seemed to only scream for an echo of the same brand on his forehead. His position, with the breeches and the belt, was very evident.
When he left his room an hour later, he knew he looked presentable - but upon seeing her, he could not help staring.
She wore a shimmering gown of what seemed like translucent dense-threaded, silvery spiderweb. Her breasts, her sex, the curve of her stomach and thighs - it was all visible, yet not, through the barely-opaque dress. Her nipples seemed to have been painted a purple that shone through the dress. Her hair had somehow been put into intricate curls that fell to her shoulders and below like a snow-white fall. She wore long-armed gloves from a leather-like material that he'd learned came from a species of underground snake - soft as silk. Several of her fingers bore large rings tipped with shimmering stones - rubies, emeralds and one sapphire. Her boots were high - she never left the room without fighting boots - but very fine.
Others might have called the blades by her slim belt a foolish affectation - but one look at the way she handled herself would tell anyone she well knew how to handle them.
Her cheeks were dusted with what seemed like a crimson blood-spray, though somehow delicate and graceful - not
just
disgusting, and she wore a lipstick that seemed to mirror the shimmer and lustre of her ruby-red eyes.
Her graceful lips, however, were turned in a frown.
"What?"
"I..." he realized he'd been staring and quickly dropped his gaze.
How can i be disgusted and...
"I can
smell
the salt of your disgusting arousal on the air, male. Compose yourself, and your ape instincts. Understood? You can drool after me later, if you prefer - and out of my sight." Despite that, she'd moved forward, and the smile on her lip was half-cruel, half...triumphant?
He'd half-opened his mouth to argue that, no, he wasn't aroused in the least. But he knew his cock strained against his breeches.
"Forgive me, mistress." He meant it - for several reasons, and by the way she met his eyes, it seemed she knew it.
"You are...forgiven." Her voice was musical and her smile curved upward further and she touched the pit of his neck with one finger. "So difficult to control yourself, hmm? Such a
male
, after all."
"I...you are very beautiful, mistress," His voice sounded numb to his own ears.
"I know." She breathed, close enough for his breath to travel across his face. She smelled of sharp spice today. "And you look...passable, slave. The tunic fits. The breeches...will be better once you contain your base instincts." Her eyes sparkled.
Haern jumped. She'd actually given his crotch a small slap!
He glared.
Viara laughed out loud in what seemed true amusement, then turned. "Here. Take it." She handed him a bundle, long and thick.
He frowned and unrolled it, blinking at it. It was a blade. "Mistress, i-"
"For today." She interrupted. "You are my servant - and part of my retinue for travelling. We will travel through the city. No member of the house attending a daughter of the house goes unarmed. Certainly you will not. But...if you imagine to even
consider
using that blade upon me..."
He swallowed. "I will not. I swear it."
At least not now. Not yet.
Viara nodded, slow. "Good. You will wear it proudly. And compose yourself with the air suitable for a personal servant for a daughter of the house of De'larn. We will travel by carriage." She took a small satchel and tied it to her belt in a small hook. "Come."
They went.
He felt odd, walking by her side in the house in such a fashion. Other servants - even drow guards - quickly went out of their way. Not just hers, but his as well. To Viara, it was of course nothing. To him, it felt for the first time as though he had a measure of control back, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. He was used to others viewing him with awe. His prowess, his size, his skill with the blade. They all-
His thoughts froze as a taller drow female than Viara stepped across the corridor, saw them and smirked. "Why Viara - dearest sister. You look fantastic."
Viara halted. "Maela."
"Almost as though you're going to be a surface whore at a celebratory feast. Who is the lucky male? Your slave, there? I'm surprised the beast still lives, given your...appetites."
"Unlike you, i do not take
beasts
to bed, dear sister. My slaves are only that - slaves...Though if you need wardrobe assistance..." She sneered at the older drow's apparel, which seemed drab and tawdry in comparison, though it was shining links of silvery metal "...i would be happy to arrange a meeting with my seamstress for you. But of course!" She snapped her gloved finger and shook her head "...you would need to have something to show, no!" She pouted in mock-sympathy. "And blessed Lolth did not bless you with much in the ways of...
charms
? At least" She added almost lazily "That is what i hear the males in the barracks laughing about when deep in their cups of ale."
Haern blinked before realizing what they must be talking about. The other woman's chest region was conspicuously flat, and the way her eyes seemed to blaze.
"Careful - lest i bite that wagging tongue, hag!" She showed her teeth as if to make a reality of the threat.
Viara smirked. "No way to speak to your sister, is it? Come now, dearest. I'm sure i can find one of my...acquaintances who would not mind some time with you as a favor to me. You must be
exhausted
, begging to Lolth for favor, for charms from your betters, not to mention dragging male slaves to your quarters by rope."
Maela's eyes were hateful enough to burn her sister to ash - if looks could do as much. She seemed about to answer, then glanced at him, and instead whirled.
Far from seeming as calm as she had, he noted Viara's breathing was elevated. She watched her sister's retreating back as though the other drow would spin and assault her at any second.
"Come, male!" She snapped and he followed.
The carriage was an intricate affair. The seats were wide enough for both of them to have one. He was surprised when she indicated he should get inside, as opposed on the seat above.
"Your...sister, mistress."
Viara sneered. It twisted her features. "Lolth's gift to house De'larn and a waste of a mind. The queen take her!" She gave a sign to the air, her palm in the air with fingers clutched, looking like a dead spider.
Haern swallowed. To see siblings so at one another's throat...
"What, slave?" The twist of her lips indicated annoyance at his discomfort.
"It's just...we do not have that, mistress. Between siblings. Not often, at any rate. Siblings love and trust one another on the surface."
"Weakness." Viara looked out the window. "Maela taught me levitation. She taught me my words, my speech, and when i was of age, she taught me of my body. Of men and of women. My role. My rights and my desires. She raised me more than my mother did. But she will always be...an adversary. That is how drow are. That is how we maintain strength, slave. How we make sure that only the strong survive. At least, unless there is another house."
House before sibling rivalries.
He knew. "This...meeting today..."
"Meeting?" She shook her head, perking up in the seat. "Not a meeting, slave. We meet the three women i spoke of to you. Xelara. Limassi. Alyna. I was left a message that one has procured an...item of some value. And we mean to look at it." Her lips curved. "There will be delicacies, wine, entertainment...Xelara has earned much through her service to the city's Sorcere. Already a sorceress with power twice that - thrice! - of her age."
"You...mentioned her as an ally."
"Yes. My ally. Her ascent had likely not been possible without my influence - just as she has in return given me favor and help when needed. We are not...so different, she and i."
Haern wasn't sure he wanted to meet someone who matched that description. He was about to ask her what the woman had done - but quickly decided against it. Too obvious, and too suspicious.
"And Alyna? Limassi?"
She waved her hand. "Allies of a sort also, but less useful thus far. Think of them as seeds in the garden that have not yet sprouted. I have assisted each of them in a way - and they will know to serve me when the time comes. Limassi, in her position as first daughter..." Viara licked her lower lip. "...will have
considerable power.
" A sharp glance at him. "Why, slave?"
"I seek to understand, so that i may better serve, mistress."
Far from mollifying her, her eyes narrowed. "Such a...proper slave you are, rivvil. So very...proper. But do not think i will not demand service, only because i have been busy." She inched closer, put her gloved hand on his upper chest. He could feel her nails through the thin, soft fabric of the glove. "When we return, i will have you service me - and you will make up for the cycles i have spent with more important concerns than my pleasure. Understood?"
He swallowed, feeling both revolted and something of what he'd seen upon viewing her. Her hunger seemed to have an infectious component to it, and the fact they were in a tight, enclosed space made it...almost intimate.
