It's Not Black & White Ch. 05

He stopped himself from glaring, instead kneeling by the soft, plush chairs the two women sat in.

"So, Ghinni. Your message said you had information. I'm sure you did not travel from the temple for the sake of De'larn fungal wine and my company."

The newcomer giggled. "Your wine is famous, dearest, and your slave has been the talk of some - but no. It was not just that which brought me here." She leaned back, stretching. Unlike Viara, her hair was short and fell in short strands to below her chin. Her lips were a near-perfect cupid, and she had an upturned nose as well as expressive eyebrows. The light showed her eye color as purple, not red.

"And?" Viara prompted.

"Weeeeell....you do know i share lessons with Tasandre Lueltuil - frequently. I've heard it said you'd like...information about her."

Viara was silent.

"Some of that wine, perhaps? It was a thirsty trip, after all." The drow's eyes sparkled.

His mistress snapped her fingers. "Slave - wine. Pour it."

Haern rose and reached for the carafe and a glass, putting it down next to the newcomer with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary and poured - ignoring Viara's warning glance.

"My, he is strong, isn't he? Is it true he was in the pits and survived? For months?"

"He did." Viara answered neutrally, but glanced at him with a measure of...acknowledgement, perhaps remembering their sparring match. "And he is."

"Have you tested your own blades against his?"

"He is proficient enough."

Ghenni pursed her lips. "So...different." She looked at him as he knelt back down. Her hand rose and she glanced at Viara. "Can i...touch it?"

Viara inclined her head.

Haern bore the newcomers hand on his chest, his stomach, his scalp. Her fingers were cool and her nails long, at times scratching where they touched with edges that seemed filed down to sharpness.

"So...different. And larger. All the scars...roughness. More like a beast than a being." Ghenni looked into his eyes. "Yet he does understand. Don't you, you rivvil slave?"

Haern didn't answer.

"Don't you?" Ghenni repeated, her voice gaining an edge.

"Answer her, Rivvil."

He grunted and nodded. "Yes, Mistress..." he glanced at Viara as if asking for how he should adress her.

Viara merely nodded.

Ghenni giggled once more. "Such like a beast in other ways too. The books were right! Look at this, Viara." Without shame, she grasped his cock and pulled, like a child with an insect. It was already half-erect, but in the woman's grip hardened within moments. She chortled.

"Lolth, I've seen it, Ghenni! I've had him for many cycles now." Viara said dryly, though her eyes flashed something that Haern had come to recognize as anger when the woman touched him.

"Seen it? Have you used it?"

"It's a slave, Ghenni - and a Rivvil at that. Far from proper amusement. I would have to be half-gone on chilled Pyrimo to consider the notion beyond V'rnessa."

Ghenni grinned wickedly. "Still, much better than my blooding gift. My mother gave me a set of well-sewn robes for the temple. The cretin." She snorted, twisting her lips.

"Our house has wealth - yours less so." It wasn't as much consolation from Viara as it was pointing out of a deficiency on the part of the other woman - something she seemed to enjoy doing.

"Which is why i come to you with the information. You...pay well." Ghenni smiled, though there was more dark malice than amusement in the smile now. "What did we agree upon?"

"Three-hundred - in gold."

"True - but it will be have to be five-hundred." Ghenni responded almost conversationally. "The information is...too valuable for a mere three."

"Ghenni...." Viara's voice had taken on a warning note.

"Hold, hold. If you find the information lacking, we can discuss it. However, it is as you said. My house's standing is...lower. I must make my own way." Ghenni sipped wine. "Do you want it?"

Viara compressed her lips, then nodded.

"If you fail to pay, i will make certain others - everyone knows, Viara."

"I will pay."

Ghenni regarded her, then nodded and stretched out her legs. " Tasandre Lueltuil likes taking sole excursions to the caves beyond the great fungal wall - for reagents. Once every cycle. With her is a single house guard - a youngster barely worth the title of 'guard' - though seemingly a male she...believes in and takes to bed.." She twisted around the last part, snorting loudly. "The next excursion will likely be three days from now."

Viara grew very still. "Truly?"

"Have i steered you wrong before, Viara?"

Viara pursed her lips and then nodded. "You...will have your coin, Ghenni."

A pause. "I know you are working towards...something, Viara. I have much to offer. If you would but include me."

"What you have to offer, i pay for, Ghenni." Viara interjected and shook her head. "If you wish to show your value to me - you will offer information for the sake of advancement, not coin. Then i may...consider you."

Ghenni compressed her lips, but inclined her head. "I will think on it."

"Wine, slave." Viara said.

Haern served. When he moved closer to her, in a way that hid the sight from her friend, she grasped the base of his erect cock and squeezed - none too hard, but somewhat possessively.

The chamber door opened, and the Matron Mother entered. Both of the drow were on their feet, and Haern knelt.

"Matron mother." Viara inclined her head

"Matron De'larn."

"Ghenni?" The matron, now dressed in a gown of obsidian color raised one eyebrow. "It is unusual to see one from house Frelyl so far up the stepstones. Did you get lost, perchance?" A small smile.

"Mother - she has provided valuable information."

"Ah." The matron inclined her head. "Frelyl is, of course, welcomed as allies if they provide such. There will be a feast tonight, daughter." She glanced at the other drow. "And...allies may be welcome also, if they wish. It is not a private affair."

"My thanks, Matron De'larn. Gladly, i accept." Ghenni murmured.

"A feast?" Viara repeated. "Surely a slave could have brought the message."

"We will require the presence of your slave, as well. The rivvil." The matron motioned to him with a nod.

Haern met the Matron's eyes, but the drow gave nothing away.

"Why, Matron?" Viara frowned.

"He will be part of the entertainment, daughter." A small, cruel smile spread across the matron's features.

"Tsh! No! I yet need him - you will not slay or maim him yet. And you gave him to me. I choose what happens with my slaves, if it please you, Matron."

The matron rolled her eyes. "I am not in the business of killing useful chattel, daughter. I know he is useful - i have heard the rumors. I said entertainment - in this case with one of our little fey cousins."

"With our fey..." Viara frowned before understanding dawned. "...the harlot, Matron?"

"Miliatela Evenspring." The Matron's lips twisted around the name. "Milia. The whore of Celanil. Her training has been long, but she has been broken for over a year. Time to reap some of the rewards, daughter. She will perform with your slave."

"No, Matron." Viara shook her head. "The rivvil is a fighter. He would disembowel her within moments. Is that what you wish?"

"Hah. That would be a spectacle - perhaps some other time. But no." The Matron stepped closer. "He has adequate physique for a surfacer. It would be amusing to see him couple with eladrin bitch."

Ghenni giggled, then covered her mouth. "Such...Yes! Oh yes! A Rivvil and one of the hated filth of the surface? Lolth's eyes..." Her voice was delighted.

That's why she stopped pressing. And i gave her the cursed idea. Haern recalled what he'd said in desperation to get her to accept. Shit.

"Matron..." Viara compressed her lips visibly, then straightened her back and clasped her hands. "No. He is my slave. Yours may be trained enough, but he is not. I am still teaching him basics. He knows the bare minimum."

The matron raised one brow. "You take untrained slaves as companions to your sybarite friend's chambers in Terr'quazorll, daughter?"

"Whom i take to Xelara-" Viara snapped her mouth shut, then regarded her mother and seemed to mentally moderate her tone before speaking. "Matron mother...he is my slave."

Ghenni's ears seemed to grow, and she covered her lips behind the rim of the wine glass as she sipped, her eyes flitting between the two drow.

"Daughter." The matron's voice was exasperated, as though she was admonishing an infant. "He is a male - he needs no instruction to fuck a slave that's broken in - he needs only be male. And all house slaves are, in the end, my property. As are you."

Viara swallowed visibly.

"Milia has been prepared. My cook fed her pyrimo and essence from the blackspeckle frog. The Eladrin bitch is climbing the walls of her chamber as we speak, willing to mate with a suitably shaped stalactite. Your siblings are already curious to see your slave - and her - in the act. It will be excellent entertainment to go with the latest shipment of Squid Fillets from Menzoberranzan."

The younger drow did not respond.

"Have him ready by the time evening rings. Milia will be waiting in the guest chamber before the dining hall - have him brought there. Frelyl" The matron addressed the other drow and inclined the door. "Come. I believe i have a suitable gown for you to wear that will not cause embarrassment such as those rags."

They left, Ghenni seeming torn between offense and pleasure at the notion of a gown.

"Yagh! Cunt! Drider-poisoned CUNT!" Viara screamed when the door closed. The goblet hurled from her hand shattered against the wall, glass and wine spraying everywhere.

"Mistress, i can't-"

"You!" She snarled and whirled to face him. Her fist balled up and she punched him hard. "Be QUIET!" Her scream rang throughout the chamber.

Haern grunted and clutched the spot where her fist had connected, close to his kidney. She knows how to fight with fists as well.

Viara stalked across the room and muttered below her breath. There was no catching all of it, but it was far from complementary.

He grimaced and stepped toward his chambers.

"Did i say you could leave, slave?" Her snarl would have made a panther proud.

Haern inhaled, closed his eyes and stood his ground.

The quicktap-tap-tap of her feet announced her crossing the floor. He opened his eyes and she stood inches from him, glaring.

"I told you to leave before, imbecilic male! You should have left and not been here when she arrived!"

"You think this my fault? Mistress." Haern added the last part when her eyes flashed in fiery rage.

"Of course it is your fault!"

"It's your vile spawn of a mother that forces this...violation! Or are you too stupid to see as much?" He hissed back with his own gall rising.

"Violation?! You little-" Viara exclaimed "You think i care a whit for that worthless slave? But you - you are mine to do with as i will. Kill if i want. Let live. My decision - not my mother's!"

"Well - apparently not. Perhaps you're not as powerful or as influential as you think."

Viara's eyes widened in outrage and her fist rose to strike him - only this time he was prepared.

He misdirected her initial punch and threw back his own, catching her unprotected side in a way that caused her to fold and gasp. He followed this up with a kick, uncaring of the offense, that caused her to slide backward several feet on the smooth stone floor.

The look Viara shot could have shaved him without the need for a razor. "You will bleed and die for that, male!" A slim-bladed dagger was in her hand.

Wary, he circled and backed away from her. The blood and gorge was slowy fading, and he was realizing how far he'd gone. Shit. How to- He barely managed to avoid an attacked, feinting and rolling to the side, her knife slashing where his neck had been a moment prior.

"If i cannot control you... She hissed viciously, leaving the rest unsaid.

"Viara...sorry - Mistress. I'm sorry, i-"

"Spare me your excuses and die, male!"

"If you kill me now, your mother will be unhappy. I've already been...assigned." He swallowed.

Even if i kill her, what then? They'll kill me - painfully - once they discover me. And if she kills or seriously harms me...the agreement with the Matron...fuck. He knew - hindsight being easier - that he should not have riled her. I should have seen her state.

Viara bared her teeth and holding the dagger low.

"You are right. Forgive me. I am your slave. I..."

"Shut up, rivvil!"

Only one thing - and if it backfires, i probably won't be able to do anything else. But...he was out of alternatives.

Haern took two steps back and knelt on both knees, raising his head and exposing his neck.

Viara paused, her eyes momentarily less...incensed. Her dagger-grip tensed visibly. "Defend yourself, male!"

"No, mistress."

She quickly crossed the floor and put blade to his neck, pressing.

He could feel the slight wetness of blood against the skin and blade. He only swallowed and closed his eyes.

"Male!" She exclaimed.

He opened his eyes and met hers. "I spoke without thought, mistress. And acted without thought. Forgive me. But if you wish to end me..." Instead of pulling away, he pressed against the blade, recognizing a crack in her resolve.

Viara pulled the weapon back and stared at him.

"I am yours to kill, mistress." He continued, sensing an edge. "If anyone should kill me, it...it should be you. Had you not recieved me as a gift...i would have been dead already. Reunited with..." he trailed off, sighing.

Viara stood in silence.

Haern closed his eyes. "Kill me then, mistress."

Ordering it himself perhaps was what broke the rage within the drow.

"Do it!" For a moment he actually meant it - preferable perhaps to the alternative of being used as little more than chattel in a cruel drow game of humiliation. "Please!"

Viara's jaws compressed and she sheathed her weapon. "Get up." her voice was raspy and uneven.

"Mistress...-"

"Up! Get up, slave!" her voice rose.

Sighing, Haern rose. He touched his neck and his fingers came away red. He grimaced.

"Do not move, male." Viara went to her dresser and retrieved a stone pot with a lid. She took two fingers and dipped them in a grayish cream that she smeared on the cuts on his neck. "They will heal within the hour. Mother might ask, elsewise."

"I...i do not want to attend."

"You will do as commanded, male. Your desires have never mattered." Viara's voice was toneless and cold.

"I don't want to violate-"

"She is a slave." Viara hissed. "You will learn this. She has no choice - and neither do you."

Haern pressed his lips together, not wanting to respond. He walked to his chamber. The drow actually followed and stood, watching him sit on his surprisingly comfortable bed.

"This...is not how i would have chosen to use you, slave."

"Raping a high elf, the same as my companion?" He said bitterly, then shook his head.

"I had different plans. The cursed eladrin of which you speak..." Viara leaned against the wall of the chamber, frowning. "She was caught years ago. My mother's personal bodyslave since her capture. She...betrayed her companions in the end, before she broke. All of them died because of her and her alone."

"...Why are you telling me this, mistress?"

"Because she is weak - as all our surface cousins are. You say your companion asked for her own death when her time was nigh. Was she weak?"

"..No."

"Then..." Viara shrugged. "This slave is nothing compared to her - as much as can be said for the Eladrin. Remember that, if it gives you comfort or eases the task." Her voice was softer than before.

"And that makes it better?"

Viara's eyes, having not been glacial, grew cold again despite their color. "I do not care if it makes it easier, slave. I tell you this because if you do not perform, you will be killed. And i will not be able to, or do anything to stop it. It is likely that it will be done mid-act."

Haern swallowed.

"And" Viara continued "I have a use for you yet. Your blade is too skilled to be lost in games. I may have need of it in the future. And you are mine."

For a moment, Haern considered telling her of the Matron's plans - or perhaps more accurately, the mission he'd been given regarding her. Perhaps i could work with her as opposed to against her, even if it is beyond my current understanding. Yet... He could not. The woman was, compared to the matron and even to Leilena, a child. If not in age, at least in her mind. She was explosive, flighty and uncontrolled. If i tell her, like as not, she'll cut my throat in truth.

It would certainly have been easier if he'd known more.

"...Thank you, mistress."

She did not respond, and when he looked up, her lips were twisted as though she'd bitten an unsweetened lemon through.

"Snivelling gratitude...disgusting." She spat and rose.

"Yes, well. That is how we surfacers are." And indeed, he reflected, what she'd told him was her trying, in her own twisted way, of trying to ease his task and existence here.

She glared - then turned and left. "You will be expected to leave within the hour, slave. Do not be late." She called over her shoulder.