Bruises So Blue Ch. 05

The first thing she felt was her own vomit rising up in her throat, burning across the strange dryness there, then gushing out over her tongue. Someone turned her to her side and it poured out of her and fell away. To where, she did not know. She was rolled onto her back again and left to fade away once more.

The next thing she felt was a hot heat between her legs, as if something burning were pulled out of her. As if a burning brand reached into her and grabbed her belly button from behind and pulled it out her sex. She tried to fight it, to kick and scream. A soothing stillness settled over her mind though, and the pain that remained she was commanded to ignore. And again, she faded into the darkness once more.

She didn't have any idea how long the black depths claimed her, how long she suffered the terrible nightmares that she could not wake from. In them she was chased by Blonde Hair, by Black Hair, through a forest that never ended. Sometimes they caught her and repeated their crimes against her body, only this time they were equipped with huge phalluses and claws that dripped black ooze and grime. Some dreams, she was running towards something, towards someone. She was being called but could never find by who. Always the woods, the forests hid the person she was seeking from her view. The voice was so insistent, so foreign and yet she was used to it. How many times had she had this dream? Was that why the voice felt so familiar?

Her brow furrowed, she turned her head, snarling.

"What is it? Why are you calling me?" "Because it's time to wake up, sweet heart."

Carefully, she opened her eyes. The lights around her were dim and soft, but still her vision made her head hurt and everything was blurry. She tried to lift a hand to her face but found her limbs were all just too heavy. Was she drugged? Had she been sedated?

Where was she?

"You're in my home."

It was the voice. She squinted her eyes and tried to look at who was speaking. It took several times before she was finally able to see more clearly the Kaldorei that hovered near her face with his own. She blinked and looked into his yellow eyes, knowing him slowly, more and more each minute. Associating his calm voice with the dream. With the man she had run into in the woods.

The sharp cut of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the feel of his bare finger on her cheek. She didn't know if she should be fleeing these things or letting him continue to look at her just so, to touch her just so. She blinked at him, studying the cruel wrinkles around a mouth obviously more used to frowning than smiling.

"Don't worry," he whispered in that strange accented voice, speaking her tongue. "You're safe. I've taken you away from...from all of that and you're safe."

Suddenly the warlock started, her whole body going tense and her eyes going wide. She remembered now. Remembered everything. Where she was, what had happened, and where she had been. She gripped him because he was the closest thing for her to hold onto as her mind reeled with the returning memories. Her chest became tight and she struggled to breathe, unsure of what to do. Should she run? Should she hit him on the head and flee?

His huge hand came out and touched her forehead, causing her to pull away, which only served to cause her greater pain somewhere in the back of her brain. She flinched and he seemed to sigh and nod.

"I know. You're so very confused and afraid right now. I'm..."

He paused and looked at her, his eyes wet. Was he crying? He held his head down for a moment, then looked away.

"I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. It was the only way they'd let you live. They think I took you to my home on the great tree, and intended to kill you myself, because of our history."

He seemed to blink then, before looking at her as he stroked her head.

"They don't know you're still alive today. And they don't know where you are."

Slowly, the elf woman settled. She stared into the man's glowing yellow eyes, looking from one to the other. She could still flee. He wasn't holding her down. But the pain in her head, and other parts of her body, was very intense. She could barely lift her arms and had no choice except to release her grip on him.

She could flee. Or she could trust him. And he was indeed the reason she had come. She settled back against the cushions he had put around her sometime during her unconsciousness, and stared at him.

"I know why you came," he whispered as his finger traced the line of her jaw. She could feel a bruise beneath the skin but one that was already healing and fading.

The warlock watched his face, seeing his sincerity there.

"I know that out there, in the other world, you had so much on your shoulders. I also know you've run from it all, and left it all behind. I watch you. I always have."

The elven woman nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue.

"Out there you are someone, to so many. But you came here. To my wood. To me. Just one person, and one who has so much to apologize for already, never mind this..this new agony."

She turned her head away from him slowly, looking around the dark one room house he had brought her to. The lighting was still dark, like the forest atop the great tree. Were they still there? How far had he fled with her? There were shelves on the curved walls of the small home, and on the shelves were jars, no doubt filled with poisons and contaminants and chemicals. A discrete fire burned in the hearth, only one light lit. And the windows were purposely grimy and fogged, keeping any signs of life or light inside from escaping to the outside. No burning candles to brighten things. No decorations or items of sentimental value. A true rogue's home. She turned her eyes back to his face, taking in his patient smile.

"Trust me," he whispered as he pulled away and stood impossibly tall, towering over her on the little cot. "It's why you came."

For the next few days, he played nursemaid to her, his quiet and unspeaking patient. She said nothing to him, didn't ask him for anything, but he made sure as well that she wanted for nothing. Three days of pure convalescence left her weak and exhausted, but quickly healing.

As he held a bowl of broth out to her, she half smiled at him and met his eyes for the first time.

"Thank you."

It was a start.