Salvation

16 1 2
                                    

This chapter is rather adult in nature, it contains explicit sex and also some disturbing flash back moments. And for the end of the story, tissue alert.


For the next days Barah was kept within the rooms all the time and nobody outside of the king's inner circle knew anything about her punishment. The guards had been locked away and the servants knew how to keep their mouths shut. Barah was bored but she was also scared, she had no idea of what it was that would happen to her and the idea of having lost several days of which she remembered naught was a bit shocking too. She knew that her secret was revealed now, that the king knew of her fear of the dark and her most intense fear was that he would send her back to the dungeon. She knew he wouldn't, still she couldn't help herself. She got better, she healed very fast as all of her kin did and her hands did look normal again, her nails were still missing but at least the open wounds were gone. She had put on some weight again and the gaunt expression was gone, she did look like before except from the fact that her eyes no longer were cold and hard. Now they were frightened the whole time and she was acting like a child who has been beaten badly, even the smallest sound made her cringe and if someone raised their voice she almost passed out.

The cold warrior was transformed to a timid and shy little creature and Thranduil was shocked by the transformation. The feast that had been planned was held and she was rather well so the king ordered her to join him, just to get her accustomed to others and to kill the rumors of her being executed. But the reactions were not as he had anticipated, she sat by the same table as him next to his butler and she was shaking like a leaf the whole time, the other elves stared at her with wide eyes and some didn't believe what they saw. Barah had been extremely arrogant and haughty, so self-centered her presence had been naught but unbearable but now she was cowering before them all, like a whipped dog. What in the name of Eru had the king done to her? There were some rumors claiming that he had forced her to become his mistress and even though that didn't sound believable at all it only fueled the fire of rumors that spread through the palace.

Barah hadn't been to a feast ever, she had always stayed clear of social happenings and didn't know how to behave. Galion knew that this was one elleth to whom the joys of life were utterly alien, the death of the enemy had been all she had lived for. It was a great pity, he was sure there was a lot of good sides to her too, traits that hadn't been allowed to develop.

Thranduil had an idea of what to do now, he had spoken few words with her lately but he had started to understand her personality better than before. She was coming out of her shell but it was a slow process and she acted as though she expected to be whipped if she even opened her mouth. He had to make her trust again and he had a plan. Two days after the feast he called her to his chambers rather late in the evening, she did obey immediately and arrived staring at the floor as she usually did these days. She was the very picture of someone who had been broken and he cringed inwardly at her expression of shame. Galion had tried to talk to her and explain that the stay in the dungeons had been punishment enough for her faults but she wouldn't listen to it at all, she felt as though she was something terrible still, that she was a monster unworthy of being around others at all. It was terrifying how she had changed, from ice cold control and hatred to downright self-hatred.

He sat in an armchair with two goblets of wine on a table nearby and she didn't even dare to look at him. Before she would have ignored him and cared naught about his decision, now she was scared to the bone of everybody. She wore a simple dress made for the servant maids and it was too big for her, the slender frame looked so fragile wearing that garment. She had a warriors body, muscular and with little fat and yet she had a feminine grace to her that was rare and precious. He had a suspicion that she from the hand of nature was both sensual and warm, but it had been smothered by the events that had shaped her tragic life up to this moment. He nodded and held out one goblet. "Here, drink."

The coldest of heartsWhere stories live. Discover now