Dark Flower Ch. 8 (previously The Flower Ch. 2)

[Mikayla]

The Flower, Part 2: The First Thorn

Sheyreiza sat in a prison deep inside the halls of the Battlehammer clan. This was not her first time in a dungeon, nor was it her first day in this particular cell. She had spent time alone in cells and pits, and she had spent time with others in cells and pits. She had talked, rested, fought, killed and fucked in cells and pits. She had been tortured; she had been bathed. She had used others and others had used her. With all of that, she had never experienced anything like what she now experienced.

Sheyreiza sat in the arms of a darthiir male, Jain’n. He leaned against the cells bed with Sheyreiza’s head resting on his muscular chest. He ran his fingers gently through her long, silky tresses. The two of them sat in a rough triangle with Amenia and Inthara, and all of them were smiling, laughing, talking in ways that were so completely foreign to Sheyreiza she was having a very hard time even following the conversation. There were no implied threats she could find, no verbal traps being laid or insults being tossed. There was no tension. There was just conversation. Sheyreiza felt as is she was walking on air, completely out of touch with the ground of reality. This was not her world or her life. What was it?

Inthara sat smiling, giggling, talking freely as she often did. A silver crescent moon, the symbol of Eilistraee hung from a chain around her neck. The site of the unholy symbol of the Dark Maiden made Sheyreiza want to recoil or strike or both. How many times had she forced others to defile that very same symbol as a test of loyalty to Lolth? And now, her senior wizard was wearing it, openly, proudly. Beside Inthara, Amenia was discussing how she loved the Vale and never wished to leave it. She spoke of the horned creatures there, the ones Jain’n called deer. Amenia spoke in a manner Sheyreiza had not thought possible. Was this the same Amenia who had come from the lowest levels of Ched Nasad? Was this the same Amenia who had been enticed into Sheyreiza’s service with promises of a never-ending career of murdering other Ilythiiri nobles?

Sheyreiza’s own posture was even more shocking to herself. She was laying with, nay, cuddled up to a sun elf, a darthiir. She was letting him stroke her and what was worse was that she liked it. She never wanted it to stop. This man, this enemy, this evil traitorous elf from the Night Above, a pawn of the Betrayer Corellon, had been willing to give his life so that Sheyreiza might live. What madness was this? And what madness had it driven Sheyreiza too? Her feelings for this man were beyond description. When he was not with her, she physically ached. A pain formed in her chest. It came when she thought of him being harmed as well. Why? What manner of curse was this she had fallen under? How had she been so enchanted? She did not think herself subject to a magical charm but what could explain this?

Jain’n had called the feeling ‘love’ but he cautioned that Sheyreiza was still young and new to the feeling. Sheyreiza had no idea what he was talking about. All she knew is that he had saved her from a world of eternal cold wherein she knew no warmth. He had given her that, warmth. Her body was still wracked with the sickness she had taken upon herself in the plane of dream shadow, but her soul was warmed. Jain’n had brought a fire to it that she could not have imagined. Never in her life had she felt protective of someone, but when a pair of orcs had ambushed Jain’n, Sheyreiza’s first instinct was to do just that: protect him. Why?

The foursome talked, drank and ate happily on the floor of the prison cell. Jain’n brought his bag and it was full of his usual goodies. This time he had brought oranges, a delicacy Sheyreiza had tasted only a few times in her century of life and then only because she was a princess of Qu’ellar Auvyrndar, a house on the ruling council of a fabulously rich Ilythiiri trade city, Ched Nasad.

“I will speak to the king soon.” Jain’n said, referring to King Bruenor in whose halls the three drow were imprisoned. “I think he will set you free once I tell him you have come to Eilistraee.”

Sheyreiza’s heart sank. She looked over at Amenia and found Amenia looking back, her face a mirror of Sheyreiza’s concern. Inthara was simply smiling and nodding, touching her moon symbol and muttering praises to the Dark Maiden.

“It may not be that simple.” Sheyreiza said, her voice taking on an anxious tenor as yet unheard in this light hearted and hope filled exchange. She took a deep breath and sat up, pulling away from Jain’n’s arm. “I…I can tell the King that I feel for you. Perhaps I can even say that I love you, for all that I know of love.” She paused, turning her head to meet Jain’n’s gaze. She saw him smiling, but she saw something else. While her words so far were hopeful and sweet, he knew there was something else. “What I cannot say is that I love Eilistraee, or even have any feelings for her.”

Jain’n and Inthara both frowned but Amenia simply nodded and played a bit with her orange peel.

Sheyreiza looked into Jain’n’s amber eyes with all the warmth she could muster. “I do not know your goddess, this Dark Maiden. To me, she is some distant, ungrateful daughter of the Goddess I do know, of the Goddess I realize I love, though she may not love me. Who is the Dark Maiden? What has she done for me?”

“She sent me to you.” Jain’n replied. “She sent me to save you.”

Sheyreiza sighed. “Perhaps, but I do not know that. What I know is that you were willing to give your life for me. For you, I have great feelings. I know nothing of Eilistraee, and neither does Amenia.”

Jain’n and Inthara looked to Sheyreiza’s bodyguard as she sat toying with her orange.

“I have no goddess. Not Lolth or Eilistraee. I have never had a need for faith.” Amenia shrugged.

Sheyreiza continued. “Jain’n, each of us has found something. Inthara has found a new goddess. She found Eilistraee in Skullport, but it is here she has realized her faith. Amenia has found the vale, and she has told me she never wants to leave. I, I have found you. And for you I will stay. Each of us has found something: a goddess; a place; a man. But not all of us have come to Eilistraee. Perhaps not all of us will.”

A cloud passed over Jain’n’s face and his body tensed. “The king will not likely let you leave this place alive unless you come to Eilistraee.”

Sheyreiza nodded. “I know.”

***

An hour later, Jain’n returned Sheyreiza to her cell. Inthara and Amenia were left in there own chamber.

“You will come to Eilistraee, I am confidant.” Jain’n said. Who was he trying to convince? Sheyreiza or himself?

“I cannot have faith in a goddess I do not know. I know you now, I can believe in you. Eilistraee? She is no one to me.” Sheyreiza turned away from Jain’n and walked towards the bed. His gaze followed her, as did his heart, but his body remained at the door to the cell.

Without turning back to face him, Sheyreiza spoke again. “Jain’n, if the king does not let me leave alive, you will keep your promise won’t you?”

Jain’n’s blood ran cold. He had promised Sheyreiza not to let her body be defiled. He had promised to see her body burned in the traditional way. Now, he felt his stomach turn at the mere thought of it. His heart raced. He could not do it. He could not see Sheyreiza burned, he could not see her dead at all.

His voice was little more than a whisper. “I will not let you die Sheyreiza, that I swear.”

Sheyreiza smiled weakly but did not turn around. She believed the elf meant what he said; she believed he felt it. She also believed it was beyond his power. Jain’n was a lord but he was a single elf and she now sat in the dungeons of the Battlehammer clan and they were legion. Jain’n had his own people, and those people seemed loyal enough, but they also seemed quite hostile to Sheyreiza. If Jain’n decided to defy King Bruenor, he might very well have to do it alone, and in the halls of the King himself. Sheyreiza’s once cold heart filled with feelings she could not control or understand. She loved Jain’n perhaps, and she felt great fear for him. He seemed bent on destroying himself for her. And why? Was she not his sworn enemy? What then brought him to the point that he would make such a vow? What would drive a sun-elf lord to swear to defend a drow priestess from a dwarven king in whose halls he now stood? Sheyreiza’s chest ached with the questions and the feelings.

She heard stone grating on stone and realized Jain’n was shutting the cell door. At the last moment, she looked over her shoulder. She saw him just as the door closed but he did not see her. Her heart sank and sadness washed over her. She feared for him, for his naiveté, for his love that threatened to destroy him. Over the last few months, Jain’n had often said that Sheyreiza was his flower, but even Sheyreiza knew that some flowers had thorns and were better left unpicked.

[Zakharra]