A Hero's Rebirth Ch. 04

Now clothed in the garb of a maiden of the household, Clee'Amura looked miserable as she was led by the wrist by Lymarith toward me. The white material of the dress made the contrast of her skin stark next to the fair Lymarith. The dress clung to her figure nicely and the sandals of the house maiden completed the delicate feminine look for the tiny maiden.

"It took some time to teach her how our garments varied from what she's used to, but here she is!" Lymarith declared happily, returning the cloak that had been her only covering.

"Wonderful, I wanted to talk to her in private." I told my matron, reclasping my cloak, then I turned to my... slave.

I needed to figure out a better way to situate our relationship. I suppose she'd still be my slave regardless. Tavorwen had said her slave mark was irrevocable, and Clee'Amura seemed to think there was no escape, but surely we could come to a compromise of some sort.

"Um, I guess you two could speak in your bedroom, that is probably the most private place in the house." Lymarith mused thoughtfully.

Clee'Amura glared at the young she-elf, then sent a scathing glare my way.

"Fine." She snapped, whirling and stomped down the hall.

I sighed. I had a lot of work to do with the young she-elf. I wasn't sure how I was going to prove to her I wasn't whatever she thought I was, but I had to start somewhere.

I followed her to my room, where she slammed the door open and stormed through. I followed her through, then closed the door so we could talk. I turned with a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with." Clee'Amura snarled, and started pushing her dress off her shoulders.

"No! No, no, no!" I hurried, and I stopped her and pulled her dress back up on her shoulders. "That is not what this is at all."

"Oh, thakra shit." Clee'Amura spat. "You're a male. Everyone knows males are weak, pitiful creatures slave to their need to reproduce. We might as well get over the part where you forcibly breed me."

I shook my head, "Okay, so first of all, that's not a thing. Men... I mean males, enjoy reproducing... That's true. But we're not slaves to it. There are plenty of males where I come from who never reproduce and live a happy life. Secondly... Did you notice the other she-elves in the house? They WANT to reproduce with me, so why would I force you when I have half a dozen she-elves who would do it happily instead of miserably?"

Clee'Amura narrowed her eyes, "Then let go of my shoulder."

I released her and stepped back, my arms ready to stop her from stripping again.

"If you weren't bringing me here to force me to pleasure you, why in the hells did we need to be in such privacy?" She demanded, crossing her arms under her modest breasts.

I sat on the bed, leaning my rifles against the wall and motioned to one of the chairs, "You can sit if you want. I think there's a fair amount we need to discuss."

She remained standing. I could feel her defiance through our bond.

"Alright, so first of all... I know you are a slave. The mark around your neck and on my hand make any attempt at ignoring or disregarding it is going to just be a joke." I began. "But I want to do all I can to make you as free as I can, though there are a few things that I can't allow. I need to keep you safe, and keep the rest of the elves safe as well."

Clee'Amura scoffed, her scorn burning like an ember in my mind. "The ideas of a weak male. The strong dominate the weak. This is how it is, how it always has been and always will be. You have power over me, and nothing will change that. Regardless of what you say, a single command from you and your false ideals will be cast aside. Already, you have employed the compulsion of the slave mark when convenient and always you will fall back. I can delude myself into believing it isn't so but what is the point?"

She laughed, "Worse, you made me slave to any of your bitches and whores."

"A valid criticism." I agreed. "I hereby order you to disregard my previous command to obey the commands of the members of my household."

Clee'Amura's eyes narrowed. "A nice gesture, but as easily reversed as it was made. Your words are air."

I nodded, "Yeah. Until I find a way to break the slave sigil that binds you, it is just that. It will be a matter of my self-control in not using my ability to force your behavior, and your behavior in not forcing me to use it."

"Ha!" She mocked, "The excuses of a naive fool."

I struggled for a minute, as she stood there judging me.

"Alright, how about this? I will give you my word. I will not command you and use the control of the slave sigil, unless it is to save your life, my life, or to prevent you from harming or killing an elf who has not provoked your response reasonably." I offered.

"Air, mere air." She laughed. "Your false bravado is pathetic."

"Clee'Amura, I hereby order you to disregard all previous and enduring commands that restrict you in any way." I told her.

Her eyes narrowed. She waited for a moment, her head cocked as she watched me carefully. A strange tension filled the room.

With elven speed, she leapt at me, her hand lashing out faster than I could have verbally stopped her if I tried. Her elation at the chance she had to take rushed into my mind. Her fist struck my head, with follow up blows to my chest, shoulder and another to my head.

Now, hand-to-hand combat was not my speciality, but I had a fair amount of hand-to-hand training. By the time you get to be in the special forces, you've had a lot of training in a lot of different categories, even if the majority of your training focused on one specific capability.

I knew there was no way I could match the speed of her strikes and try to block anything. Instead I wrapped her torso up in a clinch, my arms tightening into something like a hug preventing her arms from swinging properly. I bore her to the floor, pinning her.

The places she had struck me stung, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Her punch to my head had been poorly placed, and while, yep, it wasn't a great feeling, I wasn't going down to that.

"Alright, now that you are free, we can have a discussion." I told her.

"LET GO OF ME!!!" Clee'Amura snarled, frustration and disgust flooding through our bond.

"When you can behave like a civilized individual, I will release you." I told her.

"You pathetic male! Not content to command me to submit to you, now you force me physically!?" The shadow elf screeched, her anger building.

I just held her for a minute.

"Nothing to say to defend yourself, letcher!?" Clee'Amura spat.

"I prefer to let my actions speak for me. I've restrained you for some time now, and your clothes are still on, and I haven't even touched you inappropriately. You, however, elected to start hitting me the moment I gave you your freedom." I countered.

The shadow elf squirmed and tried to work her way free, but I easily kept her pinned. I had cinched up her torso until her arms had nowhere to go but straight up around her head. My biceps were locked into the grooves under her shoulders, so she couldn't slide down and out of my grip, and forearms and hands looped around hand held her head and upper shoulders, so she couldn't pull up and out of my hold.

She strained and grunted, but there was no way she was breaking my hold.

"So, what? We stay here until we starve?" Clee'Amura demanded, her rage settling into disgust.

"I hope it doesn't take you that long to decide to play nice." I told her.

"I'll never cooperate with a weak, male fiend like you." She insisted.

"Well, at least we can talk for a while. I imagine eventually one of the members of the house will come by and they'll feed us." I mused.

Clee'Amura strained against my hold, but despite her flailing legs, and flexing shoulders, my hold remained strong.

"Why are you doing this, Kreifir?" Clee'Amura growled, her disgust shifting to humiliation.

"Because I believe you are worth it." I stated.

She stopped for a moment.

Her emotions were a mess. Disbelief, humiliation, anger, sadness, and pain... lots and lots of pain.

In my clinch my face was turned away from her, so I couldn't see her to judge her reaction. Her body, however, told me something. Her struggles stopped, her flailing trailed off. Either she was caught off guard by the statement, or she was accepting the fact that she couldn't escape. I hoped for the first possibility, but was prepared for the second possibility.

"Well, if we're getting to know each other, we should really know each other's names." I explained, "You may have picked this up, but my name is Thomas. Thomas Nord. Now I understand your name is Clee'Amura. But Diamiutar said that the 'Clee' part was a title. Is that true?"

The she-elf immobilized in my grappling hold remained quiet. I could feel her emotions being stamped down and smothered.

I let her sit. I was patient. I wasn't sure if I was more patient than an over one hundred and twenty year old elf, but I was going to test it. I knew she was at least the age of my matrons, though I'd want to establish exactly what her age was eventually.

After several minutes, she finally spoke. Her voice was tiny, barely more than a whisper.

"Every Shadow Elf's name is a composite. Their title, their given name, and then their house. " Her trembling voice tentatively explained. "All except Kathra, the great queen. Kathra has declared that as the eternal queen of the only pure lineage of elves, and therefore the only lineage worthy of life, her name is too great for a title to be attached."

"I see. So Clee is your title, Amura is your given name, and your house?" I asked.

"...the name of my house was stripped from me when I was made a slave..." She confessed, barely loud enough for me to hear, even as close as we were.

"... I am sorry to have brought up such a painful subject." I apologized.

"I am accustomed to pain." Clee'Amura retorted, a touch of defiance returning to her voice.

"Well, I hope you won't have need of that tolerance anymore." I tried to comfort her.

We sat in silence for a moment, then I pressed further.

"What does the title 'Clee' mean?"

Again, a long and awkward silence.

"The title of 'Clee' is... 'worthless'. A pitiful excuse for a member of the ultimate race of elves who is not worthy of the house they were born to... One who has been... marked... as punishment for her worthlessness."

A deep pain and humiliation filled her voice was verified by the emotion leaking through our bond as she made the admission.

"... That sounds like a poor title for you." I told her carefully. "If you wouldn't find it too revulsive, I would have you use a different title."

The restrained she-elf tugged hard, trying to pull away from me. Her frustration and humiliation pulsed in my head.

"What would the point of that be?" She demanded. "You can't change who I am. What I am. I am a slave. Forsaken and cast out of my house."

"But you are welcomed into my house." I countered. "So what you are is a member of my house. And I have never met a worthless person. Every person has a use, you just have to find it."

"What use could I have? I'm worthless... I couldn't even serve my people by killing one pitiful male." She griped.

"Let's make a deal then. Give me a month. One month. If I can find a way to help you be useful in one month, you'll stay with me and help me. No commands, no coercion. If I can't find a way to help you be useful, in one month... I'll let you leave. You'll be free to go wherever you want, far away from me. I won't be there to command you, or order you around, so you'll effectively be free." I proposed.

"Deal." She accepted, her glee was evident through our bond.

The acceptance was all too quick.

"I know right now, you're thinking you'll lie and accept it, then try to murder me and return to your people." I guessed, "but think about it. What did your old life really offer you?"

I gave her a moment. Her stubborn defiance sat like a stone in my mind.

"I can feel the barely concealed bruises. The scars..." I told her. "... What did your life with your people ever give you? Give me and the rest of the world a chance and you may be surprised by what you find."

I decided to give her a chance. I slowly and gently released her. I slowly backed up and sat on the bed, as the shadow elf maiden watched me with intent and distrusting eyes.

"I understand your motives for accepting the deal right now may not be the best, but give it a chance and we'll see how it goes." I assured her. "Shall we seal the deal?"

I offered her my hand.

The she-elf slowly sat up. I could tell she was doing everything she could to suppress her emotions. It made reading her almost impossible. She was of a race I wasn't familiar with, and while wood elven people had been close enough to the humans I was used to that reading them hadn't been far off, I wasn't sure reading a shadow elf would work the same way.

Finally, reluctantly, she took my hand and we shook.

"Alright. To start with, I don't want to call you 'Clee'-Amura anymore. What are some other titles we could use for you, because I assume you want to still use one?" I asked.

"Well, most titles are related to what you do. The Tarqs are those that lead in battle. Vrith are those that follow a Tarq. A Vor is a mage of battle. Ta are those who serve Ya'av as clerics." She explained, "I have failed as all of those."

"What about a student, or an apprentice?" I suggested, "Until you find your purpose, that could be a good way to look at yourself."

"...I suppose, 'Ki' could be an acceptable title." She admitted.

"Ki'Amura?" I tried.

She struggled. "It feels wrong. I am a failure, not a novice."

"One man's trash is another man's treasure." I quoted to her, "You just need to find where your value is appreciated. I hope I can prove a place where that is the case."

"We'll see how long your word lasts." Ki'Amura grumbled. "You'll show your true colors. Simply a matter of time."

"I swear, the only time I will command you, is to save your life, my life, or the life of one of the elves we live among. And if you are acting in self-defense, and the only way to save yourself is to kill the offending elf, I won't even use it then." I promised.

"...of course, MASTER." She mocked.

I looked at her, "You can call me that if you want, but you are welcome to just call me 'Thomas' or 'Tom'. As for the rest of the day, I do plan on bringing you to the feast. You are now a part of my house and if you aren't welcome there, neither am I. I hope you will relax and enjoy the food and the celebration of a moment of peace."

Ki'Amura looked at me, with suspicion and doubt.

"Now, I want to establish some expectations. First off, I don't want to ever force you into doing something you don't want to do, so long as it is within my power." I told her, "If I ever ask you to do something and you don't want to do it, please tell me."

"And if I said I didn't want to live here?" Ki'Amura mocked.

"Well, if you went back to El'Muth'Ran, they'd probably kill you." I judged, "And I can't guarantee your safety anywhere else, so unfortunately that is outside my power."

Ki'Amura smirked like she'd won something, but said nothing more.

"Do you have any questions for me? About anything?" I offered.

She looked around the room. Her eyes sliding over the bed, the various nooks and crannies with alcoves for storage, and the smooth wooden floor.

"Where will I sleep?" She asked, her eyes on the floor near the corner.

"There should be a bed for you in one of the other rooms." I told her. "I would prefer you either have your own room, or if you have to share, Lymarith is the only one I'd really want to share with you, as she seems the most okay with you."

Ki'Amura turned to look at me, "A bed... for me?"

Her face brought to my mind many who I'd helped before. Children with their ribs standing out, disbelieving that there was food for them. Youths that couldn't meet your eye.

"Yes. You'll sleep in a bed, be clothed, eat three meals a day and be cared for. I won't let anyone lay a hand on you to hurt you." I assured her.

Her face narrowed in suspicion.

"I won't just let you breed me, just because you gave me a bed and some food." Ki'Amura retorted.

"Wasn't my intention." I assured her.

"I want to see my... bed." Ki'Amura declared.

"Alright, if you have more questions, just let me know that you want to talk." I told her, grabbing my rifles. "Let's go find Lymarith."

Lymarith was fairly easy to find as she was helping Diamiutar in the kitchen.

"Hello," I called to get their attention. "We've talked and Clee'Amura will now be known as Ki'Amura. I believe we have enough rooms that she can have her own room, right?"

"That seems like a good idea." Diamiutar agreed. "Second room, in the east wing?"

"Yes, that would be good!" Lymarith concurred with a smile. "Would you like me to show you your room?"

Ki'Amura looked at both me and the matrons with apprehension, then nodded.

Lymarith wiped the flower from her hands and led us through the halls to a room.

I hung back and let Ki'Amura follow Lymarith into the room.

"Lemius." Lymarith called, lighting up the room.

Windows were the only thing that were really lacking in elven homes. There were three beds in the room, with plenty of alcoves with baskets for storage, with additional dresses, as well as what looked like brushes and such for self care.

Ki'Amura stepped into the room. Her head swiveled as she took in her new room.

"Whose beds are those?" The elven maiden asked.

"Currently, they are vacant." Lymarith answered. "Master Thomas is still building his household. Perhaps one day the house will be so full as to require each bed to be used, but that will take some time."

"So, I can have any bed I want?" Ki'Amura pushed.

"Pick whichever one you want." Lymarith verified.

I just leaned back against the wall in the hall as my matron and the shadow elf interacted. Lymarith made sure to show her the features and contents of her room. Ki'Amura's face was skeptical, but she couldn't hide the fact that she was struggling to believe this turn of events.

"...and if you need anything, just let anyone know." Lymarith concluded her introduction to the room.

"And this is all for me?" Ki'Amura verified.

I could feel her confusion and conflicting emotions of hope, anger and sadness.

"Well, I'm going to get back to helping Diamiutar, she has a lot to do in the next hour before we head out to the feast." Lymarith excused herself.

I gave her a quick kiss as she squeezed past me in the hall.

Ki'Amura stood in her room. Unmoving and numb looking.

"When you are ready, I'll be in the kitchen helping the others." I told her. "I can tell where you are with our bond. Please don't try anything stupid."

I left her.

It was definitely a gamble. It always was. Ki'Amura had trauma, it was so easy to see. People who had been through things as traumatic as Ki'Amura's life must have been could reacted in a variety of ways. There were the standard adrenaline responses, fight, flight, or freeze. Some regressed, some had PTSD, and others channeled it to become better. I had to give her space. If she was going to flee, It was better to have her try it now, where she'd be fleeing into a city of (hopefully) friendly individuals, instead of fleeing the next time we left the city.

I couldn't just leave her here. X'Thallion had expressly told me to keep her close. I needed to know what her trauma response was going to be. I paid close attention to our bond.

It was odd to me, how quickly I'd gotten used to the lines of...feeling? Emotion? I didn't know how to describe the distinct connection I felt to each matron, and the shadow she-elf. Each felt different. When I wanted Lymarith, her happy, bubbly bond was easy to pick out. Each Matron's bond was as distinct as the elf was in person. The smooth, and generally pleasant bond to Diamiutar was easily distinguished from the steely, cool bond of Tavorwen, and the wild and dynamic bond of Creadean. Narusil's bond's current pulse of life from her pregnancy, even just days after her conception, was so easy to separate from the others. Heilantu's soothing bond was always nice to note.