Part Three: Long Live the Queen
Chapter Seven
ELENA
She looked so much like Yavara, but it wasn't quite her. Her skin was tan, her hair black, her eyes were green, and her ears were rounded. She also was doing things that Yavara would never do. Yavara was adventurous, yes, but she wasn't
this
adventurous. I watched as the woman who called herself 'Trisha' showed off her new pet: Prestira Rasloraca. She couldn't be Yavara. The Yavara I knew was saving herself for a good man. The Yavara I knew spent her days practicing the bow and riding her horse. This human was just a cruel joke created by god to torment me in my failure. I got up in disgust and opened the door. Something stopped me. A familiar voice rang out, announcing the price of Prestira's body. I'd know that voice anywhere. I walked back into the bar, shouldering past an enormous orc who bolted the door shut behind me. Brock Terdini, I presumed. Goddamn he was huge, but a well-placed Nadi arrow would fell even the mightiest of beasts. I sat in the back of the room and concealed my face with my hood, nursing a drink to ease my nerves. I hoped it wasn't true. I hoped I was wrong.
What came next was something I didn't expect. Trisha disrobed herself in front of the entire bar. The old consulate captain was right, Trisha was beautiful. The most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I watched in horror as both man and beast took her and Prestira in every-which way. Never in my darkest dreams had I imagined such acts could be undertaken, and more incredibly still, that one could enjoy them. I wasn't averse to sex despite being a virgin myself, but this... this could hardly be called sex. "Demonic gangrape" might've been a good term, but Prestira and Trisha were far from being forced. If anything, Trisha seemed to be orchestrating the whole thing, and indeed, she commanded the room with such charisma that even I applauded from time to time. Yes, the things she did where disgusting and abhorrent, but there was a terrible beauty to it all. Was I aroused by it? It was difficult not to be, though I tried desperately to deny it. I could no longer when I watched Trisha make passionate love to a human girl no older than I. The way she moved... oh god, I almost got in line myself!
When I asked a dwarf who she was, he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "A whore, I guess. And the best damn one in the city!" A whore. That's all she was. Just a whore who looked and sounded so much like the woman I loved. I sat and watched the whore. I watched as she moaned and screamed until her voice was hoarse. I watched as her body bent and writhed with inhuman grace, as though she'd been born for no other purpose. I watched as man after man finished inside of her until she was outturned and overflowing. When the last customers left, and the sun had long since set, I waited. Waited for someone to screw up, to crack the faΓ§ade. Then I heard it from the witch's lips: Yavara. A bolt of rage shot through me, and I drew my bow, unthinking, uncaring. Yavara. I fired a Nadi arrow right at Prestira's eye. Zander stopped it in the air, and the orc crashed into me. Dazed and near to vomiting with pain, my head was wrenched upright, and my eyes were filled with
her
.
"Elena?" Yavara whispered, her eyes wide with shock.
"You know this ranger, my queen?" Brock grunted as his weight compressed my ribcage.
Yavara stuttered for a second, lost for words. I could feel my ribs cracking under the pressure of the orc, the air pushed mercilessly from my lungs. He suddenly jumped off me. Blood filled my mouth as my diaphragm re-pressurized, and I choked on desperate breaths. Brock's hands came down on my shoulders and pressed gently. He lifted me up, cradled me in his arms, then began walking me up the stairs. I was going to be raped. I was going to be raped and tortured, and turned into a mindless slave just like Yavara. I thrashed against him, biting into his fingers until I drew blood, but he didn't react. He opened the door and sat me on a chair, his hands still firmly subduing me. Prestira, Zander and Yavara walked in behind him, Prestira now wearing a silver cloak, Yavara wearing nothing but the leather boots she had on before. She regarded me with something akin to fear, and washed the filth from her body with a wet cloth as though to make herself presentable.
"Elena, I'm going to make Brock let go of you. Can I trust you not to try to run away or attack my friends?"
My eyes clouded to hear her speak my name. I nodded. Brock walked to the opposite side of the room and collapsed in a heap. His eyes fluttered open, writhed around the sockets, then focused to stare threateningly into my own.
"We should just kill her. If we let her go, she'll run to her masters and tell them of us. We can't keep her as a prisoner in this city; a missing ranger will attract attention. I say we-"
"Brock, shut the fuck up or leave the room!" Yavara shouted back at the orc. Brock's jaw hung open for a second before closing obediently. The entire interaction bewildered me beyond comprehension. Why was Yavara ordering her captors? For that matter, why had Brock collapsed as though he were a puppet whose strings were cut? But all those questions were blown to the wind when Yavara turned back to me, her eyes full of love, tears brimming on her lids.
"I thought I'd never see you again!" She cried, and threw her arms around me. My own arms hung meekly at my sides. It wasn't just confusion or fear that stayed my affection, but the expression of the emotion itself. Being a ranger didn't lend many tender moments, and it felt awkward to be given such an open display of love. But then I remembered. Yavara; this was Yavara! I returned the embrace with all my strength, crying into her shoulder. We vented within each other's arms for a minute before Yavara finally pulled herself from me, her face wet with both our tears.
"What did they do to you?" I asked, looking her up and down.
Yavara laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "
They
didn't do anything. Well Brock raped me-IN A GOOD WAY SIT DOWN ELENA." Yavara's hands pushed me with a strength I didn't know she had. My body flew into the chair as the dagger in my hand clattered on the floor. Yavara pulled me up into the chair, my body lifting off the floor with ease. She brushed a strand of black hair past her flustered cheek, and spoke. "OK Elena, we're going to let that one slide. Take your dagger back if it makes you feel safe, but trust me when I say you do not want to draw it again."