The lights begin to dim

The footsteps continue around behind you as the room descends into deeper gloom. It doesn’t return to the almost darkness of your first awakening, it is instead as if a lantern or several candles are scattered around the room. You remember the mirror and gaze into its depths in an attempt to see who or what is behind you. Unfortunately the focus of the softly swishing orb appears to be your own form, with very little beyond it showing in the inky shadow. Your eyes are suddenly drawn to your pale skin. Pale and featureless. Where your intricate runes once scribed linked chains of power across your body there appears.. nothing. You make a small noise at the back of your throat and lift one manacled arm to view it directly. They aren’t entirely gone. The lines are so faint as to be almost invisible, just barely raised above your skin. The purple blue glow which radiated so powerfully from within appears to be quenched, or at least so dim as to be indiscernible to your quick eyes. You shiver in the semi dark, despite the warmth of the room. You have been nude outside your chambers many a time.. the army life doesn’t permit much modesty on the road. You have even been semi nude in battle the time your armour was mostly dissolved by a slime. But you have never felt more completely naked than you do right now. Naked and ****.

You return to the present with a jolt as you feel a fumbling behind you. Your voice sounds weak in your ears, ineffective.

“Wh.. who’s there? What are you doing??”

The response is slightly amused, slightly distracted, and very female.

“I’m trying to loosen your straps... ah.. there you go!”

There is a click, a soft thump and then a glorious release of pressure and restraint from your neck. You realise you can now turn i to our head and shift your position. With a groan of relief you flop onto your back, rolling your head luxuriously. And find yourself gazing up into the face of another elf.

{if Alina = 1}

“Well.. fancy seeing you here” Alina smiles ironically.

You recoil with nowhere to go, images of whipping vines and an unavoidable collision with her cudgel flaring in your brain. She faces you directly wearing a slightly more conservative version of your own outfit in grey silk.

“You! What can you possibly want? Haven’t you done enough damage, traitor? Have you come to finish what you started?”

She looks amused outwardly but somewhere behind her eyes you are sure there is a spark of.. something. You aren’t entirely sure what but there seems more to the scout than outright treachery. Your accusation hurts, even if it is the simple truth. Her soft voice remains calm though.

“Me? I’m here on orders of course. Just as I was in that forest on orders. It’s nothing personal, sister. The world is changing and we must change with it or be swept away. Trust me, if it wasn’t me that found you, someone else would have. You had a bullseye drawn on you from the moment you led the vanguard away from camp.”

Your mouth twists in a bitter half smile.

“Trust.. I’m surprised you can bring yourself to say that word. However you twist it, I’m here because of you. You are no sister of mine! Not to any true elf. Get out of here.. I’ll tell you no more than I told the gnome or that blonde harpy.”

She sighs and leans toward you, getting close before she brushes back her hair from her face. The skin is blistered and scarred all down her left side, from her temple down to her jaw. In places it looks like it has run like candle wax, in others the skin is darkened and cracked or raw and red. The eye is swollen but not all the way shut, though the dark centre is a slightly milky colour. You look over her wound impassively, whilst inside you feel a little sick at the effect your power had on her. Another image flashes of you wildly channeling streams of magical energy at her desperately as she hurtles into you. Her green eyes watch yours intently.. perhaps seeing her own reflection within. She nods slowly.

“Very well.. Captain.. I will not say I don’t deserve that. Not as you must see it. But as you can see, I’ve paid some of the price too.. at your hands. Oh don’t worry, I have many more hours of healing spells and various salves to ease the worst of the damage. I might even keep my eye..”

She winks the damaged orb at you and winces involuntarily at the effort and then chuckles softly at herself, slowly stroking her hair back into place across the wound.

“Well, Shall we call it a fighting draw for now? It seems there is so much going on beyond our little squabble. I did what I did for my reasons, and you did what you did for yours. And now I have a new mission. No, no, no, I don’t expect a confession, not yet. If Miss Iron Britches can’t get you to talk I don’t like my chances. Of course if you wanted to surprise me and raise my standing around here, I’d be very grateful...? Hmm I thought not. Fear not, I’m only here to make you a little more comfortable and get you ready for what comes next.”

{else}

Her features mark her clearly as your own race, though you do not recognise her. Her dark red hair is tied back away from her face on one side, but her left eye and cheek are cover by dangling strands. She is pretty enough from what you see and you wonder what she hides. Wounds from the battle perhaps? She sees you staring and meets your eyes with her bold green ones, though she touches her hair self consciously. She is dressed in similar clothing to you, grey silk, but it covers slightly more of her than yours does of you, clinging to her sparse frame.

“I am Alina, and I’m here to make you more comfortable and to prepare you for what follows. Or if there is anything you wish me to pass on to our friends.. “She nods her head towards the orb and mirror “.. I’m a good listener”

You can’t help but frown slightly.

“I don’t understand.. were you in the battle? Are they keeping you prisoner?”

She chews her lip just a little before shaking her head.

“No.. I’m no prisoner. I’m here of my own free will, I believe I’m doing what is right.”

“By working against our people??”

She shakes her head sadly.

“By doing what I can to save our people from her. I know they told you what has truly been going on. I.. saw it.. for myself. I’m working to save us and to save the other races too. Even if it means I can never return home again. And I hope we’ll convince you too Jennara. Either way, we need you.”

Your heart sinks as a potential ally turns out to be an enemy. Unless of course that was all just for the watching captors. You’ll need to get her alone to be sure. For what’s it’s worth Alina looks disappointed too. She turns to organise the things she brought in with her on a tray and you shift uncomfortably.

{endif}

Your whole left side is complaining and you wonder how long you were in that position for. Without the pain suppression of your magic the events of your capture and your confinement make your body feel like one big collection of bruises and aches. You try and rub some feeling back into your hip, your bonds allowing that much movement at least.

You hear a noise and glance over to see Alina shuffling through her equipment, which is on a long table next to your bench. There are various stoppered bottles, a pile of clean cloths, and a porcelain bowl of water. You realise it has been some time since you were able to bathe, and though the worst of battle muck has been removed during your **** state, you are far from clean. You recall with a twinge the victory baths following battle in the elven camps: groups of officers or various units washing away the grime and gore of the field in great steaming pools of perfumed water just short of scalding. Toasting the lost, exchanging stories, laughing, dressing wounds, and doing their damnedest to forget the worst of the horrors. And now here you are all alone stuck amongst the horror. You glance at the slender elf beginning to dip cloths into the bowl to soak. Not exactly the stuff of nightmares you suppose. Nonetheless you are in enemy clutches and escape must be foremost in your mind, should the chance come. You draw a shuddering sigh and swallow your longing for your homeland, setting your mind. Despite everything you have heard, in your heart you believe in the goodness of your people.

Alina turns to you and guides you over onto your tummy. She places rolls of cloth at your chest to allow you to rest comfortably. Conveniently, the rails which your wrist bonds attach to run up and around to each side, allowing you to turn completely over easily. You put your head on the leather of the bench, letting your eyes wander. Behind you Alina works with nimble fingers and you feel the meagre strips of silk you were wearing fall away. She slides them away from you, leaving you entirely naked. You close your eyes a moment and grit your teeth, refusing to react. The other elf remains tactfully silent, reaching into the bowl and beginning to wash your newly uncluttered skin with warm water using delicate strokes. She works from the feet upward, and you try to ignore her.

You realise the room you are in is only a part of whatever space you are in. Now you are facing away from the mirror wall you can see that the other “wall” in fact a heavy curtain partitioning your space off from whatever is beyond. She moves beyond your calves and thighs methodically, rinsing and changing the cloths as needed. You glance at the floor, tracing the smooth flags with your eyes in the gloom. You see something odd at the far corner of the room. Strange grooves trace a path from the curtain which marks the boundary straight above your head around in an arc to the curtain wall you are facing. You close your eyes briefly as the warm water cleans between your thighs and up over your bare cheeks. You hope that the blush you feel rise as her ministrations reach the base rune at the bottom of your spine is purely shyness.

You ponder the strange layout of your temporary prison but you can’t imagine what the tracks might be used for, and you don’t suppose anyone is likely to tell you until it’s too late. You keep your observations to yourself. Meanwhile Alina has moved over your back and arms, brushing along your sides and into your armpits and up over your neck. She even produces a damp comb and removes your braid, brushing it through thoroughly and leaving it clean and damp before tying back up in one banded mane.

You have been trying to focus on anything other than being naked but the sensations you are feeling are hard to ignore. You feel like you have taken an extra layer of clothes of and are feeling everything anew for the first time. As she uses fresh cloth to dry your skin you can feel the texture of it brushing across you from top to toe, leaving you clean and tingling. She lies you on your back and repeats the whole process for the parts of you that she was unable to reach. You find your flesh tingling even further as the rough cloth moves across your flat stomach, and up over your ribs. You glance up at Alina’s face and see nothing except intense concentration as she gently but thoroughly washes your petite breasts. You mentally shake yourself and grit your teeth but even holding yourself in a vice like grip of willpower, you can’t prevent a shiver running through you when the drying cloth grazes the pale pink tips of your nipples.

A knowing smile lights her face and she finishes off by cleaning yours which carries a self conscious blush. The last of the road dirt and battle grime finds its way into the porcelain bowl and the cloths are folded away. She nods, turns you back over again, and then reaches for one of the stoppered bottles.