Sufferance Ch. 02

D'Shea paused outside a chamber guarded by two literal giants, pale-skinned and of some race much stockier than an elf. They were armed and dressed for battle, but I saw no soul in their eyes. Constructs? Thralls?

"Elder Sister D'Shea," she said bluntly. "I am expected."

The giants stepped aside with neither a grunt nor a breath, and the door opened by an invisible hand. We entered a chamber filled to the brim with decoration and banner, the walls lit by just enough smokeless torchlight to display the rich purples, golds, and reds, only accented by blue and gold and black. Almost like D'Shea's uniform, I noted. The purple referred to the Priesthood, the gold the Valsharess, and the red...well, who else?

The theme of the decorations could not be missed: webs and spiders, wands and potions, swords and daggers and arrows. Everything and everywhere that we were strong. My mouth twitched when I noted the lack of any shields.

My entire expression went blank when I saw the formidable, aged Drow sitting straight-backed on the throne. The crown woven into her blonde hair was of elegant gold laced with diamond and amethyst, integrated with a few rubies. Her robes wound about her body in shining, bright bands of gold and purple, leaving her long neck, shoulders, and a hint of cleavage exposed but covering everything else from wrist to black-slippered feet. She was older than the Red Sister Prime, a few wrinkles at her eyes and the corners of her mouth visible despite an elf's magical resistance to aging, and she looked about as stern. Unlike the Red Sister Prime, however, she had no doubt been a stunning beauty in her prime. Even now her presence filled the room, drawing all eyes to "Her."

I'd been instructed on how to bow to Her upon coming to Court, though I hadn't needed to very often; only large balls or congregations where she made an appearance, and we all would bow together in a massive wave of heads. With only the three of us here and directly before her, I was a lot more conscious of my grace. I thought I did alright; a bit tense perhaps but no hesitation.

Only after that moment did I glance at the movement in my peripheral right; a notable group of robed attendants, two Priestesses I didn't know, one with her Draegloth, and several non-Drow slaves, face-down on the ground and averting their gaze.

"Our Greetings, D'Shea," the Valsharess's rich voice filled the chamber, though I'd have almost thought it either bored or tired. Or both.

D'Shea bowed more deeply and gave a longer greeting, acknowledging our Queen's power, titles, and a prayer of continued longevity. I'll admit I didn't focus on the exact words; when prayers lasted longer than three seconds and could be interchanged with pandering, I tended to start thinking about something else. Perhaps it was another result of the endless droning my late sister had done while I was on the House altar.

I nearly missed my cue when the Valsharess gestured without a response, and we stepped to the side opposite of the small entourage. D'Shea stayed beautifully still—I'm not sure how she did that—and Gaelan and I could only flank her like two statues.

We waited long enough that the Valsharess actually sighed before the door opened again and a larger group of Red Sisters came through; Elder Rausery, Qivni, and four others I did technically know but needed a jog to my memory. Trust me, forty-something hyper-sexual pussies determined to wear out even my formidable libido really can all look alike.

I knew now that some of the stories of the Valsharess using the Red Sisters to punish a Noble or a House had to be true. And they hadn't been interested in killing me afterward.

Elder Rausery bowed with her five as well, gave a similar greeting as D'Shea had, and stepped to the side to join us. She was close enough for me to hear her say to my superior, "Only the two starters, D'Shea?"

My superior smirked, looking straight ahead. "Spry enough to hit their mark. Were you napping?"

Rausery snorted softly. "Finding errands for your nosers. I hope you don't need them any time soon."

D'Shea didn't reply and I wasn't sure whether this was good news or not. I'd heard D'Shea instruct Jaunda to go find Rausery to "help." Perhaps that meant she had been instructed to delay her rival so we would reach the throne room first? But that also meant we didn't know where Jaunda and the others were. Was making Rausery tardy really worth it?

It did tell me something interesting...Rausery took her leadership seriously enough to task all Red Sisters who came to her, even in being late for a royal meeting. Did that make D'Shea the slacker, and Rausery the more dedicated? Was it a show of loyalty or was Rausery simply foolish and considered whatever this meeting was a waste of her time?

I supposed all that mattered was how the Valsharess interpreted it. She had sighed with impatience. D'Shea would consider that worth it.

What followed was an overview of the coming worship ball, the one Curgia had mentioned and for which the entourage on the right had been preparing for as long as I had been fucked and tested in the Red Sisters' secret cloister. I had missed a lot of what was going on in Court.

It would be a costume ball, and there would be feast and dance with fertility rituals (translated: creative sex on the altar). The season's Bred Consorts would be exchanged or re-gifted, with the introduction of any new ones coming out into society. Those new ones would be premium; new blood, new traits not yet introduced to the Houses. The details discussed now were almost excruciating in their minute fastidiousness; a lot went into these events. But all of this I already knew; I had been to a few balls at Court, for these happened every five to ten years.

What I didn't know was that the Red Sisters were to be present but invisible, except for a handful. The visible ones were to assist the Priestesses and keep the peace, to remind the Nobles of their manners. D'Shea and Rausery had brought the handful from which the Valsharess would select the visible, and hopefully the invisible ones wouldn't be needed.

This did make me wonder why D'Shea had only brought the two of us, the two youngest. And one in black leathers, no less! Weren't we called the Red Sisters for a reason? I could only figure they would not choose me; I would not match the decorations.

The Valsharess finally did stand when she had finished with the entourage on the right, approaching us, who still stood at attention and silent.

"Volunteers, step forward," the Queen said, and we all did except for D'Shea and Rausery.

She scrutinized each of us in turn, face impassive as she inspected the six in red leather. When she got to me, her eyes seemed to actually focus on my own. I noticed that hers were a paler tan color, like they should have been copper but had been exposed to real sunlight long ago and had faded with her immense age. The gaze was eerie and I was not especially pleased that she had noticed me in particular.

The Valsharess reached up to touch my chin, the barest touch of spun silk, almost ghostly and with a spark of magic. I felt a surge of pure fear just as I struggled to swallow my heart back down. I think sweat popped out at my temples, and my heart was pounding as it had been when I'd confessed violating a Bred Consort to D'Shea. The corner of Her mouth twitched once, the age lines more obvious this close.

"Hm," she grunted and turned away. She didn't speak until she was seated again, and even then we had to wait further long moments. "All of them. Acceptable, D'Shea and Rausery. You are dismissed."

We bowed as one—with myself being slightly behind—and left the audience hall. It was not until we'd reached a different passageway and entered through a new hidden door that either of our superiors spoke. It was Rausery who spoke first.

"Eight weeks, D'Shea," she whispered, somehow growling even then. "Not even in her reds yet."

"She is acceptable, dear Rausery, our queen said so," the other elder replied, and yes, it was smug.

"You make us look lax. You did not bring enough."

"And you brought too many. It balances."

"What game are you playing?"

D'Shea huffed a breath as a laugh. "Most present at the ball will be yours, Rausery. What is your complaint? Isn't that why you brought them, to have more eyes and ears than me?"

"Giving up so easily then?"

"You know me better than that."

Both leaders fell silent as they realized how hard we were listening to their whispers. It was quiet as we continued walking, and I shared a curious look with Gaelan, who only smiled. She couldn't see my anxiety. Then someone stepped on the heel of my boot and I glanced back.

Qivni, of course. She signed gestures as she glared. *You do not know enough. You will embarrass us.*

Tempting as it was to reply with a pictorial gesture, I signed back, *You'd better teach me quick, Collector. We have two cycles.*

For Qivni, it was never hard to call back my old confidence, even as a mask. She was easy to poke, and it was still entertaining.

We'd reached the Red Sister's cloister, seeming about to set our different ways, when Rausery stopped and stared hard at D'Shea as if trying to pierce her with her eyes. My superior stared calmly back. I was standing at her left shoulder while Gaelan was on the right, and it was only as I glanced at my elder that Rausery moved.

I knew already that she was fast, but I still wasn't used to it. Her strong hand closed tight around my forearm, holding me fast when I tried to move back and away. Next D'Shea's hand was holding my elbow, gripping not quite as hard.

"Rausery," her rival warned.

"I will prepare her. You will get her back in two cycles."

"No. I have need of her."

"You may have two of mine for the interim."

"You've sent my best team on duty I know not where. I think you owe me more than that."

Rausery seemed to grind her teeth. "Oh? How many?"

D'Shea smiled. "Thirteen should suffice."

I stared at them in disbelief. It wasn't only that D'Shea was blatantly selling me to her rival temporarily; it was also that Rausery was actually considering it, despite her flare of obvious temper at the price. Thirteen trained Red Sisters for one black novice....? Or rather, for myself and Jaunda plus Kiren, Panisha, Lawret, and Berayla.

Even my ego didn't tell me that was a fair trade. It was double, plus one. Somehow that seemed to suit D'Shea. What would she do with thirteen Sisters for two cycles, anyway?

Rausery nodded. "Done."

My mouth opened without sound as I felt my elbow released.

"I want those five," D'Shea indicated Qivni and the others chosen for the ball, "plus your teams Three and Four."

After another moment of stern-faced glaring, Rausery nodded again. She turned and jerked her head at Qivni. "Find them."

Qivni's expression was complex. She obviously hated being traded away to D'Shea for me, was perhaps baffled why her superior wanted me so badly. At the same time, if she was genuinely worried about me embarrassing them at the ball—which seemed the case— then it wasn't to be D'Shea who prepared me, but her own superior. How could she complain?

The Collector bowed briefly to them both and left with one other Sister. Rausery started dragging me another way, and D'Shea, Gaelan, and the rest moved in the direction of her quarters. Once all others were out of sight, I could only keep up with the stubbornly fast pace; Rausery's gloved hand still gripped me hard and I was starting to feel tingles in my fingertips as we weaved through the cloister.

"What is D'Shea up to?" Rausery asked me.

"I don't know," I answered, knowing that wouldn't be good enough, even though it was the truth. Oh, this wasn't going to be a fun two cycles...

"You know more than that," she said flatly.

"No. I don't," I replied just as flat, mimicking her.

"We'll see."

*****

Elder Rausery had me in chains within one of the interrogation rooms faster than the first time she'd met me, but it was slightly better this time. Only my arms were chained, with my bracers left in place to protect my skin from the shackles. The older Drow stepped on a wooden block to raise the chain and hook it to the stone wall well above my head. My arms were not straight up but still out-stretched. While she was up there, she lit a single torch.

When she finally stepped down, shoving the block to one side with her foot, she leaned down slightly to be face-to-face with me. This was possibly the longest she had studied my face thus far, despite the hours she'd spent tormenting my body before.

"Why the sun-damned blue eyes?" she muttered, likely more to herself than me.

I replied anyway, sarcastic and snide. "Probably a Consort recessive trait."

From what I'd heard, Rausery hadn't been a Noble before her time here; she'd clawed her way in and through the ranks of the Red Sisters. Her family would have never had the chance at a Consort, and even though no full-blooded Drow was truly ugly, she was by no means exotic, just average appeal, and around D'Shea's age with a few tiny blond streaks showing at her temples. If, of all things, my eye color irritated her, maybe I could just piss her off right away and cause her to stomp off to leave me alone for two cycles.

After beating the Abyss out of me, of course... I tensed for a hit but she only smiled, which was more like a baring of her teeth, looking down at me. She drew it out until I wavered in my tension and had to take a deeper breath, then made as if to strike me in the gut. I made a sound as I flinched and she pulled her punch at the last moment. We locked eyes again.

"Just do it, Rausery. I'll tell you I know nothing, then you'll pull out a few more of those tricks you showed me before, then I'll tell you that D'Shea did exactly what you think she did on purpose. Then you'll find out I know nothing more as you determine that I haven't been privy to D'Shea's quarters and have been elsewhere for weeks and all I know is to put on the mithril before the blue ribbon."

I blew out a defiant breath and added, "Although consider yourself invited to fist me while you're at it. You'll find as many answers groping around a womb's portal as you will at the end of that dragon of nine tails."

As I finally paused, I noticed her eyes were more crimson than copper and what I'd mistaken for simple cruelty before took on a new hue as I watched. I was at a disadvantage because I didn't know how to interpret it.

"I see I should have taken my time with you before," she said softly.

I thought she already had. I refrained from heaping more challenges on top of what I'd already launched and looked longingly at the door. She took my chin, forcing me to look at her and holding my gaze. Her other hand started tugging at the laces to my leathers on my hips.

I looked upward and breathed out, closing my eyes for a few seconds as I mentally prepared.

"Resigned?" she asked in a husky purr.

I made a poor attempt at a shrug, considering my arms. "Do what you want, Elder. It's getting predictable. Eight weeks, as you said."

Rausery nodded thoughtfully, tugging slower but still undressing me. "I remember."

"I'll buy that you remember Day Seven."

Making noise was a requirement with her, whether or not I'd had the fortitude to undergo her test in silence. For those curious, the answer was a resounding "No." I'd demonstrated some very healthy lungs that day.

"I meant," she said slowly and deliberately, "that I remember how it was to be where you are. In your place. I daresay you are faring better than I was at eight weeks."

Sadly, I hadn't predicted this tactic. I turned my head slightly, watching her skeptically with one eye, as a lizard might. Trying to soothe and bond with me now, Elder? Oh, it was far too late for that.

We stared at each other for a while as she slowly—very slowly—removed my belt, setting it down with some care, and then continued tugging at the leather thongs at my hips. Finally Rausery did finish unlacing my pants; the air of the stone room felt cool as she pushed them down to my knees with far more deliberation than threat, squatting as she did so. She leaned forward to catch a whiff of my bush and leaned back, looking up at me.

"Jaunda," she said. "One is fortunate, I hear, to draw her interest after the first round of tests. Assuming they don't fight her."

I made no reply, though I wondered how good her memory was, or how recently she might've been privy to Jaunda's personal scent to know that. Or perhaps she couldn't smell that well and was acting, playing on an educated guess. It was hardly a secret after all.

She began unlacing my boots next; I imagined kicking her in the head, imagined catching her off-guard, because as far as I knew, fantasies didn't bear punishment as long as one didn't speak them.

But it was only a fantasy. I let her remove my left boot, then my right, raising each leg when she tapped me, like an obedient beast of burden. She removed the black stockings as well, and the stone was cold and gritty beneath my feet. She finished stripping me from the waist down, smoothing her hands up my legs as she stood back up as if studying the shape in great detail.

The Elder's hands went to the thongs holding the leather armor to my torso, yanked and pulled on those at my sides and my front and shoulders until it dropped to the ground in a cobbled piece. Then she withdrew a dagger from her belt.

I went still, holding my breath as she cut the fabric of my black shirt, first down the front to expose belly and breasts, then up the arms and around the shoulders to tear it off in strips. She even pulled so hard on the sleeves trapped beneath my bracers and the shackles, using the blade to slit pieces as it came out, that I jangled the chains and bounced around like an air chime.

She only nicked me once in the forearm, and that was because I had flinched when it had gotten too close to my eye.

Essentially naked, I scowled as Rausery studied me; she never looked at my eyes but scanned my body, her sight following her hands. She touched everywhere but my head and my crotch; she even flexed all my toes down at once, seeming to measure how much of my foot they encompassed.

What, was she a seamstress taking measurements for a new uniform? I could only hope.

"That black one doesn't fit you perfectly. It must be a hand-down," she commented.

I could honestly say that the thought had not occurred to me. Did I care who else had worn it? Maybe only in that I could imagine how often it had been stained. The magical cleaning had done its work, if that were the case.

Rausery smirked as she stood up, hands at her waist. "D'Shea say how long you were to wear it?"

I shook my head no.

"What do you think she's waiting for?"

Again I attempted to shrug. "I don't know."

"Meaning you feel you should have traded it in by now?"

"Meaning I know she's got an agenda and I'm only guessing at the answers," I answered sardonically.

"How much martial training have you received?"

Not a lot beyond what I already knew, and it was disappointing. Jaunda and Gaelan could both best me within a few moves. She could read that on my face.

"Holding you back. In favor of what?" she prodded.

Endurance. Knowledge. Politics. Secrets and how to get from here to there unseen. I could see the benefit, but it wasn't balanced in my mind when I'd been regularly overwhelmed and dominated, the only acceptable outcome the surrender of my body to invasion. I wanted to be able to fight back.

"Let me guess," Rausery said with a smile, lightly crossing her arms. "I believe she calls it, 'tempering'?"

I'd heard that word from D'Shea's lips as one description, yes. I nodded.

"Making you put up with as much as you can take, forcing you to be the opposite of what you were brought up to be," she continued, leaning closer, her voice low and almost soft. "Subterfuge and spying, politics and history. Learning everything but the warrior aspect of being a Red Sister."