by Jen Wylie
At some point the rainbows and dreams abruptly stopped. It took her some time to realize this, her mind once more full of foggy confusion. Floating in the dark of semi-consciousness, she fought to take hold of any thought or memory.
Slowly she drifted up into wakefulness, entering the realm in-between where she started to become aware of the world.
A hand rested gently on her head. A man spoke softly. "Will you wake today?"
Though not reacting to the touch or words, they pulled at her, tempting her into wakefulness. The world shifted, other sounds teased her ears. Bed. She was in a bed. Someone else had just moved from it.
The sound of striking flint and then a warm glow hit her eyelids. Though on her back, her head faced the light to the side. She could feel the weight of her hands across her stomach, the softness of the sheets over her, even the bed and pillow cradling her, yet she couldn't make any part of her body move.
Her eyes fluttered open and closed a few times before she finally managed to hold them open. The blurred image of a man standing with his back to her came partially into focus before they closed again.
Confusion swirled through her thoughts once more. Had he been…naked?
The bed heaved as he sat on its edge. She heard faint sounds she eventually recognized as him pulling on pants, socks, and boots.
By the time she managed to force her eyes open again she saw him pulling on a shirt. It looked very much like the one she'd worn in her dreams. The one she wore now? Had they been real?
She tried to focus, concentrating on this stranger. What had Damon said? She was in no danger?
Even sitting, the man appeared tall. Wide, well-muscled shoulders tapered to the narrow waist of a young man. Dark hair, she wasn't sure if it was black or a dark brown in the low lamplight, hung in a slightly wavy mess to his shoulders.
He adjusted his sleeves and then tipped his head, pulling his hair from the shirt collar before running his fingers briskly through it.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe.
On the back of his neck, hidden by his hair, had been a rune. Even with her vision not working exactly as it should, she knew it to be the same as Prince's. A glamor rune.
Her rescuer, or captor, was another Elf.
Panicking, she reached for Kei and relief filled her to find the bond remained, though the absence of emotion showed he slept. Knowing he was with her kept the panic at bay.
Closing her eyes, she tried to make sense of everything. Elf, an Elf had her again. With a mental start, she quickly ensured her mind remained guarded and then focused on keeping calm, breathing normally. What would he do when he found her awake?
She cracked her eyes open slightly but he didn't seem to have noticed her. Standing again, he put on a belt and filled it with weapons from a dresser and the side table.
Closing her eyes quickly, she pretended to still sleep. Her sluggish body worked in her favor, had she been herself she doubted she could hide the rising panic and fear within her. The more she thought, the more worried she became. Had her efforts to escape been for nothing?
Listening carefully, she heard him move about his side of the bed, and then around it. A door opened and closed. Holding her breath, she waited for what felt like forever, but he didn't return.
She opened her eyes again. The room spun a bit, but everything looked much clearer this time. Turning her head, she swept her gaze quickly around. Dressers, cabinets, tables, and shelves lined the walls on this end of the room. Tall, thick bedposts rose from the bottom corners of the bed. A canopy covered the top, with rods on the side. Craning her head, she saw a thick burgundy curtain pulled back between the bedpost and side table next to her.
A massive desk faced one of two doors. Her brows drew together wondering where they went. The bedside lamp didn't show her much else, just darkness beyond the desk, though she thought she saw the outlines of more furniture.
More feeling spread through her body and she tensed and relaxed her muscles, trying to quicken the process. Finally, she could move her fingers and then her arms and legs.
Worry twisted her stomach. This was taking too long. She needed to get away before he came back. Pushing off the sheets took a great amount of effort, sitting up left her gasping for breath and clutching her left side. She had no idea how much time had passed, but her ribs remained cracked and broken enough to cause her severe pain.
Shivering in the cold room didn't help them either. Her hands felt the uneven lumps of wrappings. Someone had bound her ribs.
Turning, she slipped her legs off the bed and then sat there for a time, catching her breath. She looked at her hands. No chains, but her wrists remained bandaged. The bruises had faded, more green now with only areas of blue and purple. Pink marks and scabs crossed her knuckles and fingers. Biting her lip, she clenched her fists. How long had she been here?
Perhaps the more important question, why had an Elf helped her? Was this some other twisted plot to get to Prince?
The room spun and she gave her head a quick little shake, trying to force her vision back into focus. The number of questions whirling in her still foggy mind left her more confused and disoriented.
She concentrated on breathing, pushing the pain away, and trying to clear her head. Even if she could escape, running through the streets in such a state of undress would be a disaster. She grimaced at her bruised bare legs. Where were her clothes? Maybe she could steal a blanket from the bed, or attempt to raid his dresser for something.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. "Wither me." Would she even be able to stand? "Rotting elves," she muttered, rubbing her legs in an attempt to get more feeling into them.
The door closest to her swung open suddenly. Her head snapped up so quickly spots danced before her eyes.
The man stepped out, pulling the door closed behind him. Glancing in her direction, he froze, surprise clearly etched upon his face.
They stared at each other for a silent moment. She noted he was indeed tall, his features more human, more rough, than any Elf she'd seen before. With a strong nose and square jaw, dark brows slashing sharp above piercing eyes, he looked threatening enough.
Her time had run out, but she had surprise on her side. Springing to her feet, she set her sights on the second door and ran.
Or would have, if her legs hadn't given out after her first step. She landed hard on her forearms, pain spiking through them, her knees, and her ribs. A muffled grunt escaped her lips, but she gritted her teeth and tried to stand. When her body didn't cooperate, she scrambled away from him, limbs awkward and feet slipping on the wood floor.
"Enough," he said, his husky voice low and rough.
She lifted her head to look at him, but continued to push herself away until she abruptly hit something. The side of the desk. Well at least she'd made it that far…and the second door was right across from it. Her eyes found it and then returned to his face.
"What are you doing?" He frowned, not quite angry, but certainly cross.
He took a step toward her and she raised an arm defensively in front of her.
His frown deepened and then he shook his head wearily. "I won't hurt you."
A snorted breath of disbelief left her before she could stop it. She didn't lower her arm, even when it started to tremble. Clenching her teeth, she kept her head high.
"Tough little one, aren't you?" He moved closer, stopping when she reared back, cracking the back of her head off the desk. Raising his hands, he dropped into a crouch. "Skittish as a filly, though," he said wryly.
Blinking back more pain, she tried to bring him back into focus. Her arm shook wildly before it dropped, giving up the fight.
Regarding her calmly, he finally shook his head. "If you hadn't noticed, the chains are gone, and the shackles. I had to call in a favor to get those off. Your wounds have been tended and you've been made as comfortable as can be. You are safe here."
She wanted to believe him, but trusting a stranger, another Elf, wasn't some
thing she could do. Even so, she didn't have much choice considering she could barely stand, never mind walk. It would be best to at least pretend she did. With a slight nod, she indicated she understood.
He continued to watch her, not moving. Perhaps he didn't believe her either…or waited for her to speak.
"What happened?" Her raspy voice startled both of them.
"You don't remember?"
Clearing her throat, she tried again. "No, I remember," she said quietly. Her body tensed at the memories. "I escaped. I escaped and fought and then…" She didn't know what happened after she'd fought the Elves.
"You are safe here," he said again.
"Am I?" She gritted her teeth for a moment. "You're an Elf. How can I trust you aren't working with them?"
His brows rose and then drew down in confusion. "I assure you, I am not an Elf."
She snorted. Of course he'd deny it. "Don't lie to me. I saw the rune."
He stared at her for a very long, tense moment. "I see." He rose gracefully to his feet. "I will see to some breakfast, and then we will talk." He gestured to the door near the bed. "The privy is there, and water to clean up, if you wish."
The abrupt change in topic left her confused. He'd reached the other door by the time she gathered another question.
"Wait, what about my clothes?"
Stopping, he turned to face her again. "Gone." He glanced at the oversized shirt she wore, his shirt she imagined. "I'll send for something."
"But–"
"We will talk, after we eat," he insisted. "Should you need me, just call." Opening the door, he stepped outside.
"I don't know your rotting name!"
From the hall, he tipped his head, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Roan."
The door closed but she continued to stare at it.
"Roan," she whispered. The pirate.
She didn't know what shocked her more, that he now had her, or that the most feared man in Westport was an Elf. A chill ran down her spine. She took a deep breath, wincing as pain flared across her ribs.
Why would an Elf pretending to be a pirate rescue her from the streets?
∞ ∞ ∞
After he left, she sat for a bit, trying to get her mind to clear and body to work. Finally giving up, she cursed under her breath and used the desk to pull herself to her feet. Was it the drugs making her like this, or because she'd slept for so long?
She stumbled to the door like a drunk. Her fingers fumbled with the latch. Finally getting it to open, she breathed a sigh of relief seeing he'd left a lamp lit on a table by the door.
The table gave her something to hold onto as she stepped inside. The room wasn't big. With a confused frown, she noticed another door on the wall to her left, which she deduced opened to the hall. Spotting a tub in the corner to her right, she guessed it was for servants to come and bring water.
The wall helped her balance when she reached the privy box. It even had a lid, which she lifted gingerly. The dark hole surprised her, and she bent, looking down. Some sort of chute going outside, small enough she wouldn't fit in it to escape through. At least it kept the smell down.
Even so, having a privy indoors…pirate life must be doing well for him to have such a luxury.
When finished, she made her way back to the table by the door. A real mirror hung in a wooden frame above it.
Averting her eyes, she took advantage of the pitcher and bowl there to wash her hands and face. The table even had soap, brushes, and a jar of chew sticks. She took one of those, chewing the end until it frayed before using it to brush the fuzz from her teeth.
Though still wobbly and more disorientated than she liked, her vision had at least cleared.
Unable to stop herself, she looked into the mirror…and winced. The left side of her face was a mess of bruises and scabs. Both eyes were blackened. The left one startled her with half of the white now red from a burst blood vessel.
No wonder Prince had been so furious. Or…had that even been real? Anger rose within her and she clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to punch the mirror. Some of the wounds were bad enough to scar. Rot it all, she had enough scars already. Pulling on a bit of power, she healed the wounds on her face and the blood in her eye. The bruises she left. They'd heal eventually on their own, and she didn't want to waste more power. She considered healing her ribs and changed her mind, having no idea when the pirate would return. Those could wait until she knew she had time alone.
Opening the door, she paused, surprised to see Roan already returned and sitting at the desk. He'd lit more lamps, making the room considerably brighter.
He noticed her, scowled, and gestured to a chair before the desk. She stared at it for a moment, not remembering it being there before. A deeper glance into the room showed a sitting area, more tables and desks, and she assumed he must have taken one from there.
She got to eat with him, how wonderful. Trying to walk without showing how weak she felt proved too much effort. By the time she reached the chair, she collapsed into it, panting.
"Tea?" Ignoring her obvious weakness, he held up a porcelain teapot.
Her eyes narrowed. "What's in it?"
"Just tea."
With a shiver, she nodded, too weak to argue or worry about being drugged again. While he poured, she tried to pull the shirt down lower on her legs and then rubbed her arms vigorously. The room was too cold to be wearing almost nothing.
"Honey?"
She nodded again and accepted the dainty cup with shaking hands. Luckily he hadn't filled it too high, or she'd likely have spilled it over her lap as she cradled it.
He regarded her for a moment and then stood. "I forget sometimes how humans feel the cold more than us." After walking to the sitting area, he grabbed a blanket and then returned, dropping it around her shoulders.
While he sat again, she set down her tea and adjusted it to cover her legs. Sneaking a look up at him, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn't tell if he was angry, irritated, or both.
The tray before him contained a variety of plates with different foods. He selected a few items, put them on another plate, and set it before her.
"You need to eat, Arowyn." His voice, deep and husky, still sent a chill through her. It had a cold disinterest to it, reminding her he wasn't just some random rescuer, but the pirate who ruled the lower city.
"You know my name?"
He tipped his head in agreement. "Arowyn Mason."
"How?"
"Eat," he commanded, doing so himself. After a few bites, he continued, "Humans go missing often, however, when I heard of a Were searching for one, that piqued my interest. So I looked into it."
Had Garen…no. "Hale?"
He nodded. "How do you know him?"
She hesitated but couldn't think of any harm in telling the truth. "He's a blacksmith near where I live. We were supposed to meet the day I…" Her voice trailed off and she shoved more food into her mouth.
"And I see you knew he was Were. Did he tell you?"
"No, I just knew." Telling Roan about Garen would be a bad idea, if he didn't already know. She didn't want to take that chance.
His eyebrows rose, but he didn't comment on her response. "We have many things to discuss. I believe we'll begin with your health. How do you feel?" When she didn't answer right away, he frowned. "It would be in your best interest to be honest on this. I need to know how badly you were hurt and how the drug affected you."
She picked up her cooling tea and sipped it slowly. "Weak, stiff," she finally said quietly. "Everything is…foggy."
He nodded. "Do you understand what was done to you?"
"The beating part or the drugging part?"
"The drug."
She shrugged. "It made me sleep…and dream."
"That's all you know?" He rubbed his forehead, clearly annoyed. "You were given riath." When she stared at him blankly he let out an irritated breath. "Very well, a lesson it shall be. The plant it is made from, and its
uses, were discovered thousands of years ago. Fey, Were, and Elves have used it since then to help them sleep, or older ones to help them remember. Did you notice they weren't really dreams, but memories?"
"I did," she answered.
"A decade or so ago, riath was traded to humans. Initially, the effects on your kind weren't known. I like to think that when they were, the trade stopped. Either way, the humans had begun growing their own plants and extracting the drug. Not an easy task, thankfully. It is not a cheap drug to buy."
"What effects," she demanded.
"It is highly addictive, and it kills. The more you take, the longer you take it, your body begins to shut down. Eventually it does completely, or you take enough you just don't wake up." He gestured at her. "Quite honestly, I am surprised you woke, considering the amount they gave you that night."
She set down a half-eaten slice of toast, no longer hungry. "How do you–?"
"I saw them give it to you, as I saw you fight back at the end. We will get back to that. Did they give you riath the whole time you were with them?"
She nodded. "I don't remember much at all. Waking up a few times for a little bit." Her brows scrunched together. "How long has it been?"
"I believe they had you about ten days. You've been here three."
Her mouth opened and closed. That long? Thoughts turning to Kei, her chest tightened in worry. He was all she had left. What must he think with her disappearing for so long?
Roan leaned forward, his eyes flickering over her face. "I suppose the answer to one question is before me." He sat back when she didn't answer, her mind too foggy to understand what he meant. "You have power within you, and the knowledge to heal."
They stared at each other in silence, until once again the stern frown crossed his face and she finally realized he meant her to confirm or deny his comment. "Yes."
"Where did you get the power, Arowyn?" When she hesitated, he banged a fist on the desk. "And do not lie to me."
