Bound by Blood

I wrote a ton these past three days and decided to post it all in a big chunk. Yeah so maybe The Hobbit trailer got to me. MAYBE. a bit. That and I missed an old character of mine and decided on a new plot line to follow C: I'm still checking some editing crap, but I think it's at least readable.

Thanks for reading!

 

Skaa –



From the lingering looks Storm shot me over my leg, clearly my performance was convincing, and there’s no doubt he assumed correctly that it actually hurt. Our little tousle had aggravated an old injury that was still healing. Something that deep took time to heal, even for a hellion, and at times it still ached, like now.



I’d hid the pain from Drust because I didn’t want him to worry any more than necessary, and I’d hid it from Storm because damn, I still had my pride. When the dwarf took the rope from Storm, he tied it to a post and I sat, grateful to take the weight off my leg and even more grateful that he’d tied me up in the sun.



My shoulders were starting to hurt from being tied, but it wasn’t like the pain wasn’t familiar. If this was going to be convincing it was going to hurt. The muzzle was annoying, but certainly better than having my fangs ripped out. And the rope around my neck was degrading, sure, but at least it wasn’t steel. I remembered steel collars.



I leaned against the pole, lazily watching the business that passed by before me. My nerves were frayed, but I tried to nap while I could. The warmth of the sun stole away some of the ache on my arms and I enjoyed it while I could. In just a few hours I was going to miss it sorely.



The one that had bought me from Storm, Thorin, returned some time later and removed the muzzle and set down a bowl filled with water. All things considered it was a nice gesture and I decided I didn’t hate him.



I lapped at the water then settled back against the post in a way that hurt my back the least. I lifted my wing to block the sun and tried my best to nap. Sitting and stressing wasn’t going to help anything. To my surprise, I found myself drifting someplace between alert and unconscious.



Footsteps stopped close by and I looked up, a new dwarf untying the rope from the post. Instinctually I flexed my wings, my gut telling me to escape when he finished pulled the knot. He growled and turned so I could see the sheathless sword holstered at his belt. “I wouldn’t. If you still want to try it, take a look.” He jerked his head, and an archer nearby was watching me more closely than I remembered. I flattened my ears in irritation at myself more than anything. I should have noticed the archer. I was getting careless.



Was I? I let out a slow breath and realized I was calm. Far calmer than I should have been, or would have been in the past, and not simply because this was going according to plan.  



The dwarf jerked the rope and I stood, finding some humor in the fact that I was finally taller than one of my captors. The large stone doors weren’t decorated, but functional, and now they were cracked open. I hadn’t even heard them. I chalked it up to magic, silently assuring myself I wasn’t that deaf to miss something that big moving.



He led me down a corridor, the ceilings impressively tall. Two more dwarves followed me in case I started trouble, both of them carrying rather impressive weapons. The farther we grew from the entrance and the sunlight, the more I noticed what was lighting the tunnels. There were slits cut into the wall about the width of both my hands and only a few inches deep. Inside each was a tall, delicate looking crystal and it glowed with a cool blue light from within. It cast deep shadows, but glowed more brightly than a torch.



The corridors were nearly empty, and we only passed two others on our way down the hall. I was breathing hard after some time, the distance seeming longer than it really was, my leg stiff from disuse.



He stopped at a narrower, short-ceilinged hall and then opened a door and jerked the rope. I planted my feet, my fear of closed spaces settling in. The room was hardly big enough for me to stretch my wings and the ceiling was only inches taller than my height. He jerked harder, the rope digging into my neck, but I didn’t budge. l bent my knees, lowered my center of gravity and peeled my lips back in a fearful snarl.



The dwarf swore under his breath and I heard the two behind me draw their weapons. This scenario played over like deja’ vu and I panicked. I snapped my wings open and strained to get off the ground. The dwarf slid on his heels and I managed to get him a couple inches off the ground before they snapped the rope taut, hauling me back to the ground.



I landed too hard on my left leg and it simply gave out. I collapsed with a soft grunt, the cold, hard edge of a blade on my throat. I stilled, panting in fear.



There was a weight on my back between my shoulder blades and I had to figure one of them had either his foot or his whole body on my back to keep me grounded, just in case. They fitted a steel-work muzzle with a loop of iron at one end for a chain. They hooked a lightweight, but doubtless strong chain onto the end, then cut the rope off my neck.



They backed up, and this time when they tugged, it was difficult to fight back. I took a step back into a sword, then let the dwarf drag me into the room. The chain was looped through a loop on the floor and doubled back to connect to the same loop on the muzzle. It shortened and forced me to bend uncomfortably low if I wanted to stay on my feet.



I snarled and jerked my head back, the chains snapping tight. The dwarves let me rage for a few moments, content to let me wear myself out. And eventually I got tired and sank to my knees, my shoulders starting to ache from the lack of movement.



The moment I gave in, they snapped a steel collar around my neck, the chill unbearably familiar. I hated that weight, I hated it. It made my stomach flip uncomfortably, nausea rising in my throat. I battled the feeling, knowing from personal experience how humiliating it was to almost suffocate on your own vomit.



I settled on angry instead. I hopped to my feet, snapping my neck back to the end of the chain. My wings fluttered uselessly, but in such a small space I managed to buffet the dwarves stuck in there with me. That made me feel better, even after I was struck across the back of the neck.



I crumpled under the blow, chest still heaving in frustration and fury. They made good use of the time while I was stunned. I groaned as one dwarf switched out the cuffs on my hands to bind my forearms together behind my back. It was much more painful and far more efficient.



At the same time, another one stapled something through my right ear. I screeched in pain and tried to jerk back, but the chain didn’t budge. My ear burned like fire, my pain pulsing in time with my heart. I couldn’t tell if there was blood, but they had clearly stabbed right through it.



They dragged me back into the narrow corridor and offered zero resistance, my eyes still watering with pain. I limped after the one holding the lead, my ears flat against my skull. I wanted to get the hell out of there, but the only thing holding me back was fear. If I left now, I’d just have to find a way back again. This was important. You can’t leave.



I was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, I hadn’t been paying attention to where they were leading me. The cell he stopped at was large, far bigger than I thought I’d get, but I didn’t see any dragon. Still, maybe this wasn’t the last place they planned on keeping me. I shed heavily through the muzzle. I’d have to wait to see what happened.



They closed the door and locked it, lead still in hand. They didn’t take any chances and only took off the muzzle after I was inside. The second it was gone I gave them my best snarl, a hiss rumbling in my chest. To my credit it seemed to bother them quite a bit. They left the muzzle on a hook on the wall nearby and they took the key with them. All three left me sitting alone in an empty cell with no food or water.



It felt like ages since I’d eaten anything, and it worried me that there was nothing in sight. I paced, ignoring the pain in my stiff leg. I was antsy, but not scared. I didn’t like being so far from the sky, it made me feel sick inside. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck here the rest of my life.



A long time passed until I heard footsteps in the hall again. I was sitting on the floor of the cell when a new dwarf appeared from around the corner. He was carrying a sack with him, and he reached inside it when he stopped. He tossed its contents through the bars. A couple of well-fed, dead rats.



I crouched over it and sniffed at the rates. I looked up when the dwarf grumbled, “It ain’t poisoned.”



I hissed through my teeth and snapped, “I’ve been drugged before and I’d rather be poisoned.”



He seemed startled. “You talk?”



“You thought I was just a mute, stupid beast?”



“I’ve seen hellion before, they never spoke.” From his tone he might have been arguing that we still couldn’t speak even though he was engaged in conversation with one.



I straightened and paced over to the bars. He took a couple of cautious steps back. I leaned on them and remarked, “Just because we don’t speak your language doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”



“I wasn’t aware you had a language.” I repeated a phrase in hellion, the savage nature of it making the dwarf flinch. “That sounds an awful lot like a threat.”



I pushed away from the bars. “Because you don’t know it. I told you I don’t like rat.”



“Well that’s too bad.”



“I figured.” I looked him and up and down and still couldn’t determine his status. His hair was a dark red, his beard trimmed and short, following the curve of his jaw. His hair was long, and pulled back into a tie, but as far as I could tell, he looked just like the rest of them.



I got bored of him quick enough and dismissed him with a slight baring of fangs. I made quick work of the rats, and when I was done with them, the dwarf left.



I sat in the corner and flattened my ears at the silence. My ears were already ringing and it had only been a few hours. That, and the cold and the dark and the isolation was terrifying. I felt like a child again, too ignorant to know that cause of my fear.



I curled up with my back to the wall and tried to sleep. The stone floor was uncompromising and I knew I was going to ache, but there was nothing for it. I drifted in and out of sleep until I heard more footsteps in the hall.



I sat up, but made no inclination to move. This time there were two of them, but neither was the one from before. When they approached, one reached into a bag at his side and drew out a long pipe. I stiffened in recognition, but it wasn’t like there was anything I could do.



He raised one end to his mouth and let out a strong gust of air. I felt the prick of steel and reached to my shoulder and pulled it out. I looked at the tip and recognized the smell. Layda flower.



I dropped the dart and collapsed, my arms like jelly. I hit my head on stone, but I was already numb from the drug. I felt distant panic as my heart rate slowed, my blood rushing in my ears. I wasn’t sleepy, just heavy. I blinked and let out a shuddering breath, my vision blurry and dim.



I tracked their feet as they opened the cell door and stopped a safe distance away, waiting to be sure I was completely drugged and harmless. Then they rolled me to my back, my wing crushed uncomfortably under my weight. They pulled back my lips to my gums and measured my fangs, then they checked to be sure I had all my claws and I wasn’t maimed. Satisfied, the muzzle from before went back on along with the chain.



If they were checking my claws and my fangs I had a sinking feeling of what they wanted me for. They didn’t have to wait long before the drug started to wear off. That was why most slavers used Layda flowers. It crushed resistance and while paralysis was a symptom, it didn’t last long and the longer lasting symptoms were sluggishness and calm. Two things they liked when moving a dangerous slave from one place to the next.



They urged me to my feet with none too gentle tugs on the chain around my neck. I managed to get to my feet, using my shoulder to get me to my knees. I let them lead me out of the cell and back down the blue lit corridors. I followed with little to no resistance, but not by choice. My head was still foggy and slow, and every step seemed impossible until I made it.



I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings, but I took notice when I scented blood. Now I knew for sure what plans they had for me. They pushed me into a small cage with bars on all sides, the side next to the wall had a pull-away slab of steel. They took off the muzzle and the restraints. My arms were cramped and even getting them back to a normal position hurt like hell. I crouched in the corner defensively; my aching arms close to my middle. In such a small cage my wings didn’t fit unfurled and I was forced to keep them tight to my body.



The cage stunk like dried blood and urine, and as the drugs wore off the effect was more pronounced. A permanent growl rumbled in my chest, my shoulder digging into rusty bars and cold steel.



The drugs wore off faster with my rush of adrenaline, and it was less than an hour before I felt normal again.  The dwarves in the room with me spoke among themselves, but in Dwarvish, and I wasn’t privy to their conversation. One came closer and slammed the iron sheath of his sword against the bars. I dropped my head and covered my ears at the harsh sound. He didn’t stop and the noise was starting to hurt. My fear and pain redoubled into anger and I snarled in warning, then threw myself into the bars. He jumped back and the other dwarves laughed, making me even angrier.



I stayed on all fours in a low crouch and kept my growl steady and strong. I backed into the corner again, my head starting to throb in pain. I tried to ignore it, but it made the time crawl by. Eventually, once something happened, I didn’t want it to.



They picked up the blunted spears from the wall and slid the section of steel away from the wall. It opened into a sandy arena, but I didn’t budge. I resisted for the sake of defiance. They stabbed through the bars with the spears until I was in the arena, then closed off my escape. I kept my back to the wall and waited for my opponent.



                  It was just a dog, but it was still a big dog, its fur short and rugged. My posture was too submissive and the dog lost it. It ran straight at me, jaws gaping. I waited until it was close, then jumped over it. I heard the click of its jaws as they snapped closed on empty air.



I let it come back at me without budging. It angled its head for my throat and I raised my forearm, slamming it into the back of its mouth. I rushed forward before it could let go, forcing its head up and exposing its neck. I clamped my jaws shut around its throat, lifting it off its feet with my momentum and throwing it to its back.



                  It thrashed and snarled, but my fangs just worked deeper. Even when its struggles ceased, I kept my grip on its throat, savoring fresh blood. Its thrashing had splattered its blood and mine up and down my arms and neck. It was sticky and warm and I loved it.



I tightened my jaw, then let go and laughed. Quiet at first, then it evolved into a cackle. I wiped my face over my forearm with a low growl and looked up above the stone wall to the spectators through the iron mesh.



I’d tuned it out, but they were making quite the ruckus, drinking and yelling and slamming their mugs into the bars. They yelled in dwarvish at me, at others, or at nothing in particular.



I’d always liked this sport.



                  I turned my head back to the gate and they pushed out another captive, this one was a human male. I didn’t even care why I was here anymore. All I knew was there was fresh blood not ten feet away, and he had no where to run. I bared my fangs in a savage, bloody smile and the man paled. He’d been given a weapon, but he didn’t seem to know how to use it.



                  I knew these fights, I was no stranger to them. This was a show, a massacre, and they watched it for the blood.



                  I faked a lunge and the man flinched, raising the sword in a meager defense. I heard my laughter echoed by the voices above us. I tensed and jumped, my claws catching in the iron mesh and holding me upside down. I flared my wings and screeched, the sound echoing louder than any voice around us. The man reeked of fear, but I wanted to savor this, I needed to.



                  I pushed off from the ceiling, landing in a crouch behind the man before he had time to turn. I flattened him to his stomach with my fangs in the back of his neck, then jumped off, leaving him alive. He scrambled to his feet, actively sobbing.



                  Just the taste of his blood had my heart pounding at the thrill. I rushed forward, knocking the blade into the sand with a swipe of my claws. I jumped at him, hitting him in the hips and sending him sprawling. He covered his face and neck with his arms in one final defense.



                  I grabbed his wrists and held them aside. I snapped my jaws shut over his throat, suffocating him and drowning him in his own blood. His struggles were weak and only lasted a moment.



I gnawed at his flesh, digging my claws into his face to allow more access. Before I could have my way with my prey there was a pressure on my throat that tore me away. While I was distracted they’d looped a loosened knot around my throat, then jerked it tight. I tried to get my claws between the rope and my throat, but failed. The rope tightened further, and I couldn’t breathe. I gasped as the rope lifted me by my throat off the ground. My vision started to darken, and my arms fell limp. I couldn’t breathe.



There was a surge of fear, then darkness.



I was startled awake, spluttering and cold and wet. I jumped back on instinct, chest heaving. I was back in a different cell this time, and the same dwarf that had fed me before was standing just outside the bars. Judging from the empty bucket in his hands, that was why I was soaked.



I moved, and the hiss of a chain on iron drew my attention to the muzzle and the chain leading from it to the wall outside. My hands were free, but I knew the muzzle was locked, and there was no way I was getting it off. Since it clamped my jaw shut, talking wasn’t an option either. I settled for flattening my ears with a deep hiss of irritation. I shook my head to keep the water from running into my eyes and it set the chains rattling.



The dwarf gave me some explanation. “They needed you awake so you could clean yourself. No one wanted to risk trying it when you were unconscious. Not after…that.”



I gave him an amused growl and he blanched. He left and while I waited, I curled up with my back to the door in an attempt to ward off my splitting headache. I was sticky with blood and grime and sand and was actually looking forward to getting it off. It was nice in the moment, but uncomfortable in the aftermath.



I noticed that this time when they moved me there were five of them, and they held the chains on my collar and the muzzle. It would have been more amusing if my head didn’t feel like it had gotten pounded with the flat end of a broadsword. I narrowed my eyes and stared at the floor, but that started making me nauseous. I looked up and saw that the walls were all carved with a thick band of Dwarvish, their letters jagged and angular and unfamiliar. I started limping again by the time we got where they wanted me.



They pushed me into a new room and locked the steel door behind me. This room had a sunk-in stone basin about the width of my wings and it was filled to the brim with water. Probably freezing cold water.



They reeled the chain in until my head was pressed against the bars. One held a sword at my throat while another unlocked the muzzle. It fell free and I worked my jaw and backed away from the blade. They kept the chain on the collar and I noticed the red-head dwarf was back. The others were either gone or out of sight.



Before I bathed in it, I bent over and lapped at the water, drinking as much as I needed. Until then, no one besides the dwarf on the surface had bothered. As I’d thought, the water was freezing, not just cold. It was going to do hell on my leg, but at least I’d be clean. I sat on the edge with my legs crossed and stared into the water.



The dwarf asked, “What are you waiting for?”



“Nothing.”



“You’re not doing anything.”



I shot back. “Neither are you.”



He said, “I’m watching you.”



I said, “I’m watching the water.”



He let out a dramatic sigh and folded his arms. “Why?”



The water was perfectly still, just like a mirror. Underground, there was no wind, nothing to disturb the surface. I touched a claw to the water, and little ripples shot out around it, the blood swirling off into the water. “Maybe I like to look.”



“I saw the fight.” He blurted it like he’d been holding it in. I hadn’t been expecting to converse with anyone while I was down here, let alone my caretaker. I stared at him, silently urging him to continue. “We don’t get types like you very often. It’s the liveliest I’ve seen the ring in years.”



“Types like me?”



He shifted, almost uncomfortable. “The ones that like it.”



I allowed myself a slow grin. “You don’t though, do you?”



“I’ve never been inclined towards violence.” His voice was rough and deep, and it seemed against his appearance that he would say so.



I asked, “So why did you go?”



He glanced away for a second, then looked back and shrugged lightly. “I’ve been doing this job for years and I’ve never had a fighter talk with me before. I was curious to see if you’d live.”



I looked back at the water and muttered, “I am what the world made me.” I did look frightening. My golden eyes were slits in my silhouette, but in pain, not fear. My hair was matted with blood, some of it still sticking to my cheek from where I’d been passed out on the ground. My head still ached, and the silence was helping the pain.



In a sudden flare of rage I screamed, shattering the silence, and somehow also making the silence worse. It was louder than my scream, deeper than my anger. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to relive this hell.



I stopped, panting and hovered my hand just over my reflection. I noticed the gnaw marks from the dog, some of it deep enough it must have grazed bone. I held my arm up, studying the damage, intrigued that I hadn’t felt the pain until just now.



The dwarf made a sound, and I looked, his eyes wide and startled. I could smell his fear and see his hands shaking at his sides. I said, “I don’t like the silence. It’s loud.”



The dwarf swallowed thickly. “You-“ his voice broke and he tried again. “You get used to it.”



                  I waded into the water, shattering my reflection. The water got up to my waist in the middle, so I sat down so it was up to my chest. I leaned back, submerging myself completely under the water. I sat up, running my hands through my hair and shook my head to keep the water out of my ears. I cupped the water in my hands and splashed it onto my face and scrubbed at the blood. I’d always enjoyed water, and even underground in an enemy maze, I still liked it.



                  I asked, “Why are you nice to me?”



                  The dwarf didn’t answer, so I looked at him and waited for one, submerged so my nose and mouth were underwater. He shifted under my gaze then grumbled, “You didn’t give me a reason to be.”



                  I sat up straighter and said, “Most try their hardest to hurt me and insult me, but you don’t.”



                  He asked me a different question. “The human in the circle, why did you mess with him?”



                  I bared my fangs in a smile. “Maybe I like to play with my food.”



                  “I don’t get that. Makes me uncomfortable.”



                  I smiled wider. “Because you’re a good person. I’m not.”



                  I continued to clean myself off as he asked, “Are you crazy?”



I burst out laughing and asked sarcastically, “What gave you that idea?”



He muttered, “I’m talking to a maniac, there’s the day.”



“What’s your name?”



“Why should I tell you?”



I rolled my eyes. “What do I call you? Lie if you want.”



“Terrun.”



I grinned to myself. “Terrun. The God’s must have some pity.”



                  “You’re being thrown into cage fights and you think that’s pity?”



                  “I haven’t been beaten unconscious, raped, tortured, or starved. I think that’s pity.”



While he thought about that I ducked my head under the water along with my wings, like a bird in a birdbath and shuffled my feathers as the water rolled off taking dirt and blood with it. He ventured, “You were tortured and raped?”



“Humans have very strong ideas about what they can and can’t do with their property.” He grimaced and I added, “Don’t feel too sorry for me, I’ve raped and killed and tortured too.”



He said, “You don’t seem bad.”



I scratched my head and looked at him sideways. “Some things change. I’m different.” I slinked out of the water and shook like a mutt, ruffling my feathers and plopping myself down with a yawn.



“Tired?”



“Bad day.”



He actually laughed. He asked, “You done?”



“If I say yes am I going to be knocked unconscious again?”



“No, just tied up. You should be proud of yourself, most only get two guards, you’ve upgraded to five.”



“I’m flattered.” True to his word, when he retrieved the guards they reeled me in, replaced the muzzle, albeit carefully, and then led me back to the new cell. Terrun was already sympathetic enough to talk, and that could prove useful. That, and I desperately hated the silence. My thoughts in it were suddenly raging, and without something to distract me from them, it was a cacophony so immense it shook me to my very core.



They took off the muzzle and the chain and left, but Terrun lingered. I paced in the cell, dreading sitting here alone. I asked, “Why didn’t you go too?”



“You’re agitated, I’m supposed to keep you from doing something stupid.”



I snapped, “Stupid like what?”



“Stupid like breaking all your teeth trying to chew through the bars.”



I stopped pacing and asked, “Did that happen?”



“Once. What’s bothering you? Is it the arm?”



I looked down at it again, but it only ached, it would heal soon enough. “No.”



“Then what?”



                  I turned in a circle and stared at the stone walls, my wings pulled in close. “I already told you. The silence.”



                  “You’re scared?”



                  I backed into the wall and slid to the ground. I saw no reason to lie. I muttered, “Do you know what it feels like to have your soul screaming at you? I’m terrified.” I glanced at the dwarf. “I don’t want to be alone.”



                  He sighed. “I can’t stay.”



                  My head still pounded behind my eyes, but it was tame compared to the fear. I swallowed, “Then go.” I squeezed my eyes shut. I was pathetic.



                  I was physically exhausted from all the stress and the drugs and the abuse, so I fell asleep rather fast. What didn’t help were the nightmares and that bone-deep instinctual fear that I felt when my body tricked me into feeling Zeilyr’s presence.



                  I woke up how I usually did, curled up in the corner with my back to a wall screaming. My throat was raw and my head was pounding in pain. I could barely even see straight. I got to my hands and knees, then crumpled like a ragdoll. I was so dizzy and nauseous, and the only thing I could think of was the pain and how badly I wanted it to stop.



                  I pushed myself to my hands and knees and heaved, but all I threw up was bile. I couldn’t keep my stomach from twisting, my headache blinding. I was shaking and exhausted, but my body kept rebelling. I gasped for breath between dry heaves, then curled up on my side and sobbed, each desperate breath sending daggers of pain into my skull.



                  Someone rolled me to my back and lifted my head. I groaned and felt a rough hand flatten against my forehead. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, I was in so much pain and I was so tired.



                  Someone started yelling, and the sound seemed to translate into pain for my throbbing head. I tried to raise my hand to my head, but couldn’t and I wasn’t sure why. My shoulders and head were lifted off the ground, and they made me drink something. I swallowed what I could, coughing weakly as some got into my lungs. Then everything went dark.