Post by Leighton Shahrizai on Aug 1, 2010 19:57:51 GMT -5
Slowly, groggily, I came to. The carriage I was in bumped along a road that was roughly kept, feeling full of holes and bumps that made the splitting pain in my head instantly worse. I groaned softly, but even that was cut off prematurely by an even bigger bump, one that had my head bobbing forward, my hands jerking at their restraints as I instinctively tried to catch myself. Oh, gods, gods, that hurt. Another groan came from me as I squeezed my eyes shut, and even that brought another flash of pain, though this one was different, deeper into my flesh, my bones, but not like the one that was threatening to split my head apart. The more aware I became, the more I realized my face wasn't right; I tried opening my eyes again; only then did I realize I couldn't see right out of one eye, like something was covering most of it.
The gag wasn't in my mouth any longer. Part of me was grateful for it, but in truth, the rest of me was battling between being scared and absolutely infuriated. Slowly, painfully, I turned my head; the man across the carriage was sleeping, snoring loudly, and the one seated next to me was awake, watching me with an unreadable face.. a face so plain, so everyday that I didn't think I could have picked it out in a crowd of twenty. The others face was vastly different, pitted and ugly, with a nose that had obviously been broken a few times before. I didn't look at him again, but fixed what sight I had on the smooth-cheeked man next to me.
"So, ye've finally awoken," he said, leaning in towards me a little. I scowled at him, or tried to; the effort of arranging my features towards it was enough that I whimpered softly, bringing a slow chuckle from him. Gods, I was thirsty; the gag must have stripped every last bit of moisture from my mouth, no matter when it'd been removed.
"Where am I?" I demanded, refusing to wince at the pain of thirst in my throat, refusing to ask for a drink. "Camael blast you, tell me!"
Despite myself, I glared at him again, this time refusing to wince, refusing to show him how much it hurt me to do it. He shook his head and ignored me for a few moments, daring to look away from me in lieu of staring outside... though I suppose I wasn't much a threat. My hands were bound still behind my back, my feet wrapped together with rough cord. Why my gag was gone I could only guess.
"We're in Siovale currently," he said at length, his voice pitched low as he turned his face back to mine again. His hand came up with the return of his gaze, and I jerked back away from him, away from whatever touch he might have tried to give me, my teeth baring at him. Ignoring it, he brought his fingers down on my face, prodding what must have been severe bruises along my cheekbone and up over my eyebrow, ignoring my sudden gasps, the tears that sprang to my eyes as I tried to pull away.
"Not broken." He sounded relieved, which confused me; why should he care if I was broken or not? "Idiot, hitting you as hard as he did. I told him, I did, ye ladies aren't as hard as some of the men we've had to deal with before. Even if ye do fight like a sacked cat," he added wryly, giving me a look. I bared my teeth at him again for the comparison, pain flaring in my wrists and shoulders as I jerked at my restraints again. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you," he said, leaning back and taking a pipe out of his pocket, following it with tabac. Slowly, casually he began filling it, his eyes going to his partners sleeping face before back to my own again, then dragging down over my chest, down my stomach, and to my hips and thighs. Just barely I stopped myself from crossing my legs and turning away, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of that too. "Why?" I hissed, my gaze flickering from his face and to the windows around us, trying to see out of the curtains as he had, but they weren't drawn for my viewing. Tears leaked down my face, tears I hadn't realized were even building, but I ignored them as I had anything in my life. "Why! Tell me that, gods damn you! Damn you to the seven hells, you and that bastard next to you! Tell me, and when I free myself, I'll promise to slit your throat before I stab you in the heart!"
I didn't see the slap coming. He was there, seated next to me with that ever passive face, and the next thing I knew my head was laying upon the seat near his lap, pain wrenching through my already damaged face. I sobbed softly before forcing myself upright again, forcing myself to stay, hoping to hear answers.
"Why? Well, lass, ye should ask yer grandpapa about that one. Wiley old bastard... but he pays better than a lot of others." Suddenly he was leaning towards me, his breath upon my mouth as he whispered, filling my nose with its stench. "Yer lucky he hired us," he whispered. "He just wanted to kill you, but Brado and I, we don't see no reason why ye should just die. Not when we can sell ye and make another profit. I'll be needing a little momento, though... Like some hair."
Grandfather. Grandfather. Rage built within me, seeping from every pore, filling every last crevice in me. That BASTARD! That god damned BASTARD! How had he known? How! I quivered with emotions barely kept as he reached and took a lock of my hair, snipping it off near the bottom, then fished a cord from his pocket to tie it together before wrapping it in some waxed cloth. "Can't have ye looking badly now, no point in missing a big chunk of hair. Won't fetch as much money that way."
Stated matter-o-factly, I stared at him before squealing, lurching towards him with my teeth out. Pain lanced my body, but it was secondary to the rage that filled me. I never connected with him, not that I expected to, but I screamed as he knocked me to the side, falling ungracefully from the seat and into the other mans knees, this Brado. He awoke with a start, and I squealed, sinking my teeth into his shin without hesitation, wanting to hurt someone, one of them. My feet bound, I kicked awkwardly at the door to the carriage twice before I was caught up and thrown back into the seat, Brado's surprised, pained scream still filling the carriage.
"Bitch! You bitch! I'll teach you a lesson, biting my leg like that, you gods be damned daughter of a whore!"
Bracing myself for the strike, I waited.. and waited, peeking out only as it failed to fall. The plain-faced man was between us, muttering something at him quickly, quietly; I couldn't make it out. I hissed as he turned and looked at me, but before I could say anything, he just shook his head.
"You did it to yourself."
Not another word; pushing a waterskin between my teeth, he forced me to drink, then replaced the gag. I squealed, I glared, and only the cracking of Brados knuckles kept me from trying to kick him with both of my feet bound together. My eye hurt, my face hurt, my arms and legs stiff, on the verge of cramping. My wrists and ankles ached from their binds, my shoulders hurt feircly, my head threatened to split open.. Elua. Closing my eyes, I sobbed silently into my seat, letting the carriage lull me eventually back into a dreamless sleep.
Eventually, I awoke again, and it was only to be fed and switch hands. Brado wished me goodbye in a cheerful voice, and the plain faced man never bothered looking at me again. I preferred Brado's temper over the plain faced man.. he was cold, so cold. A knife lodged in my back, I was pushed onboard of a ship in the middle of the night, only candles shining the way. Lanterns would give too much light, I realized with a bitter laugh. I sobbed as my foot left Terre d'Ange, left the land of my home, and I crumpled in half before they caught me, forcing me up again with a jab of the knife that likely split my skin some.
Pushed into the belly of the boat, I was fed some sort of herbal tea that had me drowsy within minutes; each time I awoke, I was fed and watered like an animal, given leave to use the latrine, then more tea was forced into me, whether I voluntarily drank it, or they had to hold me at knife point again, one hand on my nose, steel at my throat. I prayed I'd never wake again, and when I did fall asleep, I thought of Raen, of how scared I was, and knowing there was a very real chance I'd never see him again. Tears fell from my eyes, and I wept as sleep took me, stealing me from thoughts of my love and into blackness once more.
The gag wasn't in my mouth any longer. Part of me was grateful for it, but in truth, the rest of me was battling between being scared and absolutely infuriated. Slowly, painfully, I turned my head; the man across the carriage was sleeping, snoring loudly, and the one seated next to me was awake, watching me with an unreadable face.. a face so plain, so everyday that I didn't think I could have picked it out in a crowd of twenty. The others face was vastly different, pitted and ugly, with a nose that had obviously been broken a few times before. I didn't look at him again, but fixed what sight I had on the smooth-cheeked man next to me.
"So, ye've finally awoken," he said, leaning in towards me a little. I scowled at him, or tried to; the effort of arranging my features towards it was enough that I whimpered softly, bringing a slow chuckle from him. Gods, I was thirsty; the gag must have stripped every last bit of moisture from my mouth, no matter when it'd been removed.
"Where am I?" I demanded, refusing to wince at the pain of thirst in my throat, refusing to ask for a drink. "Camael blast you, tell me!"
Despite myself, I glared at him again, this time refusing to wince, refusing to show him how much it hurt me to do it. He shook his head and ignored me for a few moments, daring to look away from me in lieu of staring outside... though I suppose I wasn't much a threat. My hands were bound still behind my back, my feet wrapped together with rough cord. Why my gag was gone I could only guess.
"We're in Siovale currently," he said at length, his voice pitched low as he turned his face back to mine again. His hand came up with the return of his gaze, and I jerked back away from him, away from whatever touch he might have tried to give me, my teeth baring at him. Ignoring it, he brought his fingers down on my face, prodding what must have been severe bruises along my cheekbone and up over my eyebrow, ignoring my sudden gasps, the tears that sprang to my eyes as I tried to pull away.
"Not broken." He sounded relieved, which confused me; why should he care if I was broken or not? "Idiot, hitting you as hard as he did. I told him, I did, ye ladies aren't as hard as some of the men we've had to deal with before. Even if ye do fight like a sacked cat," he added wryly, giving me a look. I bared my teeth at him again for the comparison, pain flaring in my wrists and shoulders as I jerked at my restraints again. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you," he said, leaning back and taking a pipe out of his pocket, following it with tabac. Slowly, casually he began filling it, his eyes going to his partners sleeping face before back to my own again, then dragging down over my chest, down my stomach, and to my hips and thighs. Just barely I stopped myself from crossing my legs and turning away, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of that too. "Why?" I hissed, my gaze flickering from his face and to the windows around us, trying to see out of the curtains as he had, but they weren't drawn for my viewing. Tears leaked down my face, tears I hadn't realized were even building, but I ignored them as I had anything in my life. "Why! Tell me that, gods damn you! Damn you to the seven hells, you and that bastard next to you! Tell me, and when I free myself, I'll promise to slit your throat before I stab you in the heart!"
I didn't see the slap coming. He was there, seated next to me with that ever passive face, and the next thing I knew my head was laying upon the seat near his lap, pain wrenching through my already damaged face. I sobbed softly before forcing myself upright again, forcing myself to stay, hoping to hear answers.
"Why? Well, lass, ye should ask yer grandpapa about that one. Wiley old bastard... but he pays better than a lot of others." Suddenly he was leaning towards me, his breath upon my mouth as he whispered, filling my nose with its stench. "Yer lucky he hired us," he whispered. "He just wanted to kill you, but Brado and I, we don't see no reason why ye should just die. Not when we can sell ye and make another profit. I'll be needing a little momento, though... Like some hair."
Grandfather. Grandfather. Rage built within me, seeping from every pore, filling every last crevice in me. That BASTARD! That god damned BASTARD! How had he known? How! I quivered with emotions barely kept as he reached and took a lock of my hair, snipping it off near the bottom, then fished a cord from his pocket to tie it together before wrapping it in some waxed cloth. "Can't have ye looking badly now, no point in missing a big chunk of hair. Won't fetch as much money that way."
Stated matter-o-factly, I stared at him before squealing, lurching towards him with my teeth out. Pain lanced my body, but it was secondary to the rage that filled me. I never connected with him, not that I expected to, but I screamed as he knocked me to the side, falling ungracefully from the seat and into the other mans knees, this Brado. He awoke with a start, and I squealed, sinking my teeth into his shin without hesitation, wanting to hurt someone, one of them. My feet bound, I kicked awkwardly at the door to the carriage twice before I was caught up and thrown back into the seat, Brado's surprised, pained scream still filling the carriage.
"Bitch! You bitch! I'll teach you a lesson, biting my leg like that, you gods be damned daughter of a whore!"
Bracing myself for the strike, I waited.. and waited, peeking out only as it failed to fall. The plain-faced man was between us, muttering something at him quickly, quietly; I couldn't make it out. I hissed as he turned and looked at me, but before I could say anything, he just shook his head.
"You did it to yourself."
Not another word; pushing a waterskin between my teeth, he forced me to drink, then replaced the gag. I squealed, I glared, and only the cracking of Brados knuckles kept me from trying to kick him with both of my feet bound together. My eye hurt, my face hurt, my arms and legs stiff, on the verge of cramping. My wrists and ankles ached from their binds, my shoulders hurt feircly, my head threatened to split open.. Elua. Closing my eyes, I sobbed silently into my seat, letting the carriage lull me eventually back into a dreamless sleep.
Eventually, I awoke again, and it was only to be fed and switch hands. Brado wished me goodbye in a cheerful voice, and the plain faced man never bothered looking at me again. I preferred Brado's temper over the plain faced man.. he was cold, so cold. A knife lodged in my back, I was pushed onboard of a ship in the middle of the night, only candles shining the way. Lanterns would give too much light, I realized with a bitter laugh. I sobbed as my foot left Terre d'Ange, left the land of my home, and I crumpled in half before they caught me, forcing me up again with a jab of the knife that likely split my skin some.
Pushed into the belly of the boat, I was fed some sort of herbal tea that had me drowsy within minutes; each time I awoke, I was fed and watered like an animal, given leave to use the latrine, then more tea was forced into me, whether I voluntarily drank it, or they had to hold me at knife point again, one hand on my nose, steel at my throat. I prayed I'd never wake again, and when I did fall asleep, I thought of Raen, of how scared I was, and knowing there was a very real chance I'd never see him again. Tears fell from my eyes, and I wept as sleep took me, stealing me from thoughts of my love and into blackness once more.