Of Kith and Kin

[Stare]

Mature language and content.
Solo with guest appearance of Nevin

[Stare]

Pop ...

And there she was, back in her life, all thoughts of escape truly impossible, a past dream that had failed with the appearance of Raevin back into her life.

Glancing down she saw Raevin's fingers carefully and tightly wound around hers. In his other hand he held a softly pulsating blue orb that was dimming in light. From the brief knowledge that she had gathered in the few minutes before he had taken her hand the orb was a form of teleport.

"We are going," the proud, brown haired elf had said.

"Now?" She had looked surprised.

Raven had nodded and revealed the globe from his breeches pocket. "Yes, now. Teleport."

And she had looked stunned before the orb had flooded with blue light, the world had spun and now they were here. Within a long stone corridor, a heavy iron and wood door behind them. One other man stood in front of that door and he was one of the guards that immediately gasped.

And then he bowed suddenly, at the waist. "Lady Stare. Captain!"

Stare wrenched her hand from Raevin's and glanced around at the corridor they were in. It was white stone, continuously down until another door. Torchlight was the only illumination, with ones in even spaces of around twenty feet intervals. Slowly, she took in a breath, knowing exactly where they were.

In the same place she had first ever met Vitruvion. The Hollow, his underground sex-dungeon empire, but with real torture and rape.

She turned back to Raevin and looked at him with a long breath out. "So we're here now. Now what?"

He shrugged. "The brotherhood court should be in session soon." And he threw her a sly smile.

With distaste she clacked her tongue against the side of her beak. The brotherhood were the ten men who each had a part in the Hollow, with their own sex harem, with three or so kidnapped captive women each. Stare had started out as one of Vitruvion's - the brother who had made the Hollow in the first place and the undesputed leader of the council. The council came together every three months or less to discuss the running of the Hollow. Stare had only ever been to one - and that was when she was bound, and at Vitruvion's mercy. She had been there as a sign of his power.

Swiftly she twisted around to the guard who had bowed. "Thank you ... Arcus," she said, addressing him directly with a sigh.

The elf, for an elf the guard was, nodded to her and then to to Raevin, a smile on his face. He seemed entirely uneffected by their sudden arrival.

[Stare]

They traversed further into the tunnel, passing three more doors and several guards. Each looked at Stare and Raevin as they passed, each unlocking those doors that needed to be unlocked, and showing various forms of respect, from more bows to a grunt. When they got to the first doors that started off from the corridor, set into the walls thsmeves, it got wider. A face or two appeared in the windows and grills at doors, watching in awe as Vitruvion's two primary aides walked past.

Onwards they went, until they came to a sudden large, round room. Stare knew from experience that they had passed five of the brotherhood's suites, and five lay beyond, down a corridor that sat directly opposite the one they had come from. Another one lay perpendicular to them, and all of it was decked out in the same white stone.

Raevin paused, looking at her for a moment.

"You say you were captured and held for five days, yeah?"

A flash of memory came across Stare's mind. Five days indeed it had been, held in a dark cell, bound with arms and legs behind her in cruel metal, a blindfold around her eyes to stop her from doing magic. She had learnt, whilst escaping along with her friend Nevin, that the people who had captured her were bounty hunters, and worked alongside a demonic mage. That man had been able to remove her devinely bestowed cuff that allowed Vitruvion to be able to see into her mind, undetected by her, and speak to her. But without it, he had become anxious and sent Raevin, his other second in command to rescue her. But she had done most of that herself.

It also transpired that the mage himself said that his sponsor (the demon) had been approached by someone. Someone who had spoken about Vitruvion as their 'brother'. But as far as Stare knew Vitruvion only had one half sister.

"Yes. You saw the state I was in and," she touched her wrists where there were still clear signs of chafing, where the days of manacles had worn away feather, skin and even flesh. "Why would I ever lie about this?"

Raevin raised his brows and shrugged. "I have no idea. We'll leave it up to him, shall we, to make up his mind."

She stared furiously, eyes darkening. "Rae. I am not lying. The mage removed my cuff, he basically told me outright his power came from demon. He spoke of a brother. How many times do I need to tell you this?"

Raevin blinked, then shrugged. "I am not sure," he confessed. "Enough times until it makes sense." He stood up and nodded at the corridor. Another door - the last door, of oak and brass - stood before them, that which led into the council chambers. Where Vitruvion, the man who was secretly a god, and had claimed himself as her god, sat in session. Her employer. Her ... Master.

Stare sucked in her breath and nodded herself, before starting forwards. Into the breach, to face the man - who was secretly a human form-bound god - from whom she had been unable to contact all these days.

He was going to be furious.

[Stare]

Ten chairs. Arranged in a circle with ten proud men of differing species, a tapestried round room encircling all. A couple of humans, three or so elves, an orc and a man more cat than anything. Before six of them were cushions, and seated on those cushions were bound and scantily dressed women, some gagged, others left with their hands free. The men lounged, and some of them with the females before them held or rested their feet on them with gentle possession. Behind each chair stood one or two guards, a spare few female but most male, each armed and willing to lay down his life for his employer. Who were taking turns speaking.

Before Raevin and Stare directly was the finest carved chair of all - a throne for want of a better term. A wave of white hair was revealed atop, as well as an arm holding a goblet, but else the figure was obscured by the huge back of the chair, and a half giant.

A half giant who heard them come in ... Then turned and offered the largest smile.

"Brer," Stare said quietly to her old friend, and once her personal guard from when she was a captive here.

The half-giant grinned, then stepped aside, allowing her the room to move forward. Eyes were on her, reacting to the disturbance that her and Raevin had made by heading in. The conversation between the men paused for a moment, and it allowed time for the man with the white hair to look back.

Blue, startling eyes. Glancing around the side of his throne. His gaze met Stare's and held for a significant moment of time as first surprise, then relief, and lastly satisfaction fell across his features. He slowly smiled, smirking almost and gave her a look that said, 'Welcome home.'

Silence was now reigning. The blue eyed man - Vitruvion himself - turned to his other brothers on the council and waved a hand.

"Continue," he commanded. There was a pause, then the one who had previously been speaking went on, talking apparently about the most recent woman he had kidnapped.

Once the conversation was back in order Vitruvion gestured to Stare, motioning her to come close. As bidden she did, her heart pounding, the knowledge that she would never get away now, after all that had happened, clear in her head. As she approached she noticed someone before him - a young elf, bound with her hands behind her back in intricate knotwork. From a collar on her neck trailed a thin cord of hessian, and this was joined to Vitruvion's hand. When Stare came she glanced back, then her eyes suddenly widened. She sucked in a slow breath, gazing in wonder.

"You're ..." She whispered.

"You have been gone," interrupted Vitruvion, his voice low and quiet. Stare had to lower her head a little in order to hear. It gave the image of her giving supplication to him, which he probably liked.

Stare paused, keeping eye contact with the elf. "Yes," she said in equal measures, answering both of them in one.

Vitruvion slowly pulled in a breath and turned his face back to his brothers. "You have a lot of explaining to do," he intoned.

Then he moved the hand down that held the lead, to push the elf's head away. "Stop," he ordered her. "You will never be the same as her."

[Stare]

Immediately Stare felt a great pang of pity for the elf, but like most things in the Hollow there was little she could do about it. In the original genesis of Vitruvion's plan to bring the kenku into his household Stare was going to take on the administration side of the Hollow. However, as time had progressed, and the Heysan escapade had occurred, that particular plan had been sundered to nothing. Instead, Stare had taken on the role of general observing manager of all of Vitruvion's more legitimate projects in the city, becoming his public face so that he could spend more time at leisure. Whilst he delved further into the world of sex, illicit drugs and smuggling, she made his house and businesses run smoothly. It was a very true statement that for the past six months, since Stare had taken up the responsibilities, that Vitruvion's legal wealth had almost doubled.

Thus he had never chased the idea of her presence in the Hollow. Instead a silent agreement existed between them that she was useful where she was. She preferred it and he seemed to now also.

The elf did not look at her anymore, but instead kept her eyes to the ground. Vitruvion was quiet for a moment and then leant back over to Stare and said in the smallest whisper.

"I can still not see you."

Knowing exactly what he meant Stare took in a breath. She blinked a few times, then reached into a pouch at her belt. Once her fingers had grasped around the cold, hard metal, she brought out the remains of the cuff - the object that had previously been bound to her wrist and gave Vitruvion access to see her surface thoughts and see and hear what she did. Removed by the demonic mage it had had iron-like immoveable lacing that had all but now disintegrated, probably by the touch of his chaotic fingers.

Carefully and attemptingly subtly, she held out the cuff to him. The god stared at it for one single but long second, and then plucked it from her. With a curl of his upper lip he showed his distaste and his fury, but pocketed the item without so much as another word.

Stare breathed in slow, knowing from experience his anger. Tightening her jaw she remained where she was, but straight backed now and a dark momento of his power here.

Time slipped by. The ten brothers continued to speak to one another, and Vitruvion only spoke when it was desperately needed. Nothing seemed too vexing in the council this time - the one who usually riled up Vitruvion, a bearded man called Hugin, was particularly quiet. He did not even have a female accompanying him.

When it was clear that Vitruvion's impatience was getting at him, the god stood, a flow of deep indigo blue falling around him. Immediately, the room fell silent, a clear sign of his power. He looked around the room, said quietly, "This council is dismissed," and then nudged the elf with his knee. Stare watched her get uncomfortably to her feet.

And she couldn't help thinking, That was once me.

[Stare]

There was silence for a while. Only the click, click of Stare's claws, the clump, clump of Vitruvion's cane and the pitter, patter of the elf's feet on the floor as they walked through the halls. Vitruvion went first, his hand still grasping onto the fine rope attached to the elf's neck, shortly followed by Raevin. The elf trailed after, a generous length of space granted to her, but her hands still tightly bound behind her. Stare strode, eyes dark, mind considering all the possibilities, just by her. And behind them all Brer dwadled, rather happier than everyone put together.

Eventually Vitruvion looked at Raevin and began to question him.

"Where did you find her?"

"In a harbour town in Corone. She was in a state. And with that blood mage," the captain answered, honestly.

Vitruvion blinked. "In a-"

"Hi."

A voice from much closer. Female, soft and slightly different from others here. Stare turned her head slightly to the elf and fixed her with a single dark eye. The girl was smiling.

"... Hello," Stare replied, hesitantly.

"I'm Ophelia," the elf whispered. "You must be ... Well they call you Stare."

Stare grunted, "My name is Stare. And yours isn't Ophelia, probably." She blinked long and hard, as the elf's face fell. But Stare personally knew the inevitability of losing one's name here. "So?"

The elf swallowed slightly and her eyes fell to looking at the ground. "He calls me Sable."

The kenku's eyes went up to look at Sable's hair - fine and black as her own feathers - and she grunted. "He's got so much imagination," she drawled sarcastically.

But Sable didn't answer. She looked entirely sorrowful and lost. Disappointment was clear - in Stare. Clearly she had been hoping to find a keen ally in her.

Sucking in breath Stare then sighed and murmured back. "Adapt to the name. It'll make things easier. I know it is hard but you come to accept it as yours." She paused. "Avis died a long time ago. Stare has been living for months."

"But how - how did you do it?" Sable whispered in a suddenly back-to-inquistive tone. "How did you persuade him to free you? Blaze said that you - you tried to escape. How did he forgive you after that?"

"Just because I no longer live here, does not mean I'm free," the kenku replied quietly, meaning each and every word. Her eyes knotted into the god's back. "But I understand him more now. I owe him respect and loyalty."

"But ... why?" The elf was incredulous. "He's ... He's a rapist and-"

A sharp tug on her rope made her fall quiet. Both women glanced up to see Vitruvion making a sharp exit to the right, Raevin already holding the door open for him. Sable stumbled a little with the jerk, gasping under the pressure of it. Pausing, Stare let her pass in, and stood there for a while outside the room she used to know so well.

White stone, the same as the whole Hollow. Large and rectangular with three doors in three separate walls. Tables, chairs, chains and stocks littered the room, as a place meant to instill horror.

A jab at her elbow, and she looked to see Raevin cocking an eyebrow. She grunted, and then followed the god and elf in, Brer coming after.

"Stare," Vitruvion suddenly said, and then he threw something at her. The end of the rope. Stare caught it out of instinct, but was honestly surprised. Glancing up she saw him looking at her, his white hair framing his face like a renaissance portrait - proud and defined was he.

"What?" she questioned back.

"Take Sable back to her room," he smirked at her. "You can take off her bonds, then lock it. You should know where the room is. It's your old one."

[Stare]

Stare simply stared at him for a long time, grinding the sides of her beak together. For a single moment she wished he could read her mind right now, so she could hiss at him. You fucking bastard. Even though her powers could not work on him in the slightest, she threw all her hate, anguish and despair at him, wishing all the nightmares and necrosis she could.

"Well?" he asked, pressure behind his words.

Not hiding her loud clack of her tongue against her beak, a signal she used to communicate severe distaste, Stare twisted around, and began to stalk over to the far door. The one with a small window and showing deep red within. Her claws dug into her palm as she strode with clear frustration, the end of the rope gripped into her palm. She tried to ignore the gulping cry as Sable hurried to follow, reminding herself that this was probably one time in future many when Vitruvion would shame her.

Shoving through the door, she dropped the rope and let her eyes very briefly scan the room. The same deep crimson and scarlet drapes washed over the room, as well as the rich tapestries. A massive four poster bed, with loops and hooks hidden in the base, a table with two chairs, a chamber pot. It was exactly the same as she had remembered - the same lack of light, same absence of entertainment.

Her jaw locked and she twisted around to stare at Sable for a moment, seeing the elf standing with her eyes huge and breathing in shallowly. By the door a shadow lurked and it took not much knowledge to understand it was Brer.

Watching. Waiting.

Fuck the man, fuck, fuck.

Stare grabbed her mythril dagger at her belt, and started the couple of steps back to Sable.

"Turn around," she grunted.

Sable did as she was bidden, a little eager apparently. Holding out her arms as far as she could go she stayed absolutely still as Stare cut through the ropes, reducing them to shreds. Soon a pile of frayed ends were gathered around them and a sigh was escaping Sable's lips.

"Oh my. That was ..."

"Stay here," Stare muttered, dropping her eyes. "I'll get someone to clear up. They listen to me in that respect." Carefully she sheathed the knife again.

There was a pause.

"You ... You are just going?"

Stare didn't look at her and roughly moved, not wanting to reminded of this part of her life for longer than was necessary. "I hate this room and I need to return. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

The call was so desperate and frantic that it made Stare pause. In the word she heard the pain and suffering that she herself had lived through, a myriad of different sorrows. Letting a groan run through her silently she twisted around and fixed her with a single eye. Sable looked entirely distraught, sunken and depressed.

"Hel- help me to escape," she whispered.

Stare did what she did best, and looked at her. Seriously and unmagical.

"I can't do that Sable," she said quietly. "Please do not ask me again."

"But you know what I'm going through!" the elf mumbled, "Please, Avis, please, Stare ..."

"I'm sorry," Stare said quietly, and turned away. She half jogged rom the room, uncomfortable and truly feeling as sick as Sable did. Behind her the door was slammed, and Brer turned the large key and various bolts. Locking Sable into the hell that Stare had already lived through.

[Stare]

"You're a fucking asshole," she yelled as soon as she closed the door to the room.

Following Brer's direction she had gone through the last door in the rectangular room, ending up in a room full of supplies - more tables, ropes and the like. In a far corner, sitting on two fine armchairs, a neat coffee table between them, was Vitruvion and Raevin, continuing to talk.

"Say that again, my dear, and I'll have you watch next time I need to satisfy my needs."

She knew exactly what that threat meant. Stare's hatred burned through her eyes as she glared at him, lounging like the lord he was.

"Stop looking at me like that also, Stare. It is me who should be furious at you, me who has been wronged. By you, my property."

"Throw that one at me why don't you," she shouted back. "Just because-"

"Shut up," he suddenly said, very low and full of warning. "Shut up right now, girl, I tell you I am not in the slightest in the mood."

She fell silent. The halves of her beak pressed together, but her eyes didn't stop in their seething hatred.

"I guess that will have to do," he curled his lip, "Come over here, and don't say a thing until I have done talking."

Slowly she breathed in, and threw her eyes to the ground. Her heart hammered, her hands ground into fists.

"Stare!"

Very much not in the mood. Picking up her feet, practically dragging them, Stare forced herself to go over to the one man she currently wanted to be very, very distant from.

"Here," he pointed right by his chair.

She moved over to where he motioned, breath short and fury very much obvious. Her body shook slightly with agitation, but she stopped just near his arm.

He took an unbareably long time to answer. Meanwhile Raevin sat there, quiet and respectful, not saying anything or moving.

"Right. That is better," Vitruvion said quietly. "Now, Raevin has told me that he found you almost dead with that blood mage friend of yours, wandering around the streets of some harbour. He also said that you told him you had been a prisoner for five while days, and you did not remove the cuff," he sounded highly speculative. He paused. "Is this true?"

She pulled her hands close to her front, suddenly feeling particularly vulnerable.

"Yes," she said, not seeing any more than was necessary. Not wanting to remember those five days. Not ever again.

"Right," Vitruvion said slow, disbelief still in his voice. "And ... Who are these mysterious captors, who apparently took a random kenku and a random human that she just happened to know, and managed to remove a cuff made by ... Well me and my father?!"

"Bounty hunters," she hissed, lifting her eyes, hating his distrust. "People who put me through hell because someone has a call out on anyone who works for you. Especially me, apparently. And Nevin - he comes from a cult, as you know, he had a call out on himself too. It was mere chance and luck that we were able to meet, without him I'd still be there and not know anything-"

"Enough," Vitruvion held up a hand. "The cuff. How do you explain that?"

"A mage in service to a demon," she retorted. "Makes sense, opposite power. And he was also in cahoots with someone who-"

"A demon?!" Vitruvion was stunned for a moment. "Must have been a particularly powerful one. Was any name mentioned?"

"No, but-" she paused. "Wait, are you now saying you believe me?"

He shrugged. "No, I did not. But-"

"There was another involved," she interrupted, knowing Vitruvion had to know it. "But-"

"Stare!" he slammed a hand suddenly down on the arm of his chair. A loud clap that made her jump. She stared at him with huge, surprised eyes.

He held that gaze. "I will treat you like you deserve if you keep on this," he glared back at her. "As I said, I am not in the mood. Everything is in uproar because of your disappearance. I had to send Raevin after I lost contact with you. And both you and him gone - well. You can imagine what happened. It was a disaster," he threw up a hand. "Absolutely-"

"For fuck's sake, I've waited long enough," she growled, now over the shock. "Do what you want with me, lock me up, beat me, I don't care, but I need to tell you something. Now."

She shoved her hands on the arm of the chair right beside his. He stared at her like she was mad, and she admitted that maybe she was.

"The mage was hired by a man that he called - well, your 'brother'."

[Stare]

Getting to the Elssmith manor, Vitruvion's glorious noble city dwelling, complete with gardens, was an easy feat. Once Vitruvion's initial shock had passed, once he had murmured back the same thoughts as Stare - that he didn't have a brother as far as she was concerned - he had dismissed her. Eagerly she had left, wanting nothing but to be out of that place. He told her to be silent about the mysterious, possible relation, and she agreed, completely willing. Raevin remained quiet throughout the whole proceedings, just thinking her an absolute idiot.

A horse from the Hollow's stables, up and behind the building that hid the entrance, that was also known as the 'Guard House'. A single guard was sent with her - mostly to make sure she did as bidden. Once in she was greeted by a very happy amount of staff. Mrs Deerling, the cook, confessed they had hugely over bought on stock while Stare was away. Jeremy, the stablehand complained that his breaks were all over the place because of a lack of organisation. And Druss, the head butler as of just a half month previous, had completely freaked and forgotten apparently every skill.

Thus, Stare was faced with a full two hours of agitated organisation, the guard trailing her wherever she went. The last thing she did was grab the accounts book and pour over it, grunting when she saw what she had expected - costs all in wrong and the household making a huge loss for the week. It took her a further hour to correct it and give stern warnings to everyone not to overspend again.

Meanwhile the guard still followed, clearly having been given orders to mark on all that she did and the places she went. After she had sort of fixed the household - a week of hard work probably ahead of her as well - she looked at him for the first time and announced she was heading to her bedroom. As she climbed the stairs he wordlessly trailed after. When she paused, he did also, and it took her to actually walk fully into her fancy, panelled room for him to stop.

And speak.

"I'll wait out here, Miss," he said quietly.

She nodded back. "Please do." And she closed the door loudly in his face.

Once in her eyes glanced around the room, blinking slowly and directly comparing it to her old one - now Sable's. It was richly decorated, but far more homely. There was no need to drape the room, because the walls themselves were a fine panelled wood. The colour of the room had recently been changed, from red to a series of blues and greys. Heavy dark indigo curtains hung around a bay window, the main light in the room. A massive oak four poster bed, that matched the grand furniture, a woollen rug on the floor. A huge bookshelf held a series of books that she had collected over the six months of employment, as well as trinkets from her travels. It was a good room, a personalised room, with a gorgeous en suite beyond.

Stare fell onto her feathers bed, sighing with desdain and exhaustion.

It was not long before she curled up into a tight ball and sobbed her experience of yet another hell away.

[Stare]

It was dark, and late, when the door opened finally.

By that time Stare had rid herself of the worst of the tears. Also she had shed herself of the heaviest clothing, getting rid of the light chainmail, the belt and tunic. She lay in just a simple pair of underhose, curled up beneath a warm fluffy blanket, sniffing periodically, not able to sleep.

When the creak came, she knew who it was. It was inevitable that he would come, whether that night, the next day or time after. And there were only so few people that entered her bedroom at all, especially in the quiet of the dark, that she had no hesitation knowing his identity.

Hugging her arms around her knees she continued to lie there, her back to him, half naked but in her natural feathers.

He had seen her worse.

There was a long period of silence that extended. Solemnly she stayed in her stance, not expecting anything more than anger from him and recieving only quiet. The seconds ticked by, not even an owl hooted outside. Her breathing filled her ears and the emotions of simply living began to grow too much again, as wet began to fill her eyes.

"The brewery?" He asked suddenly, quietly.

The question caught her completely off guard. For a few seconds she froze, trying to figure out completely what he meant - then the answer came to her, obvious. The reason she had gone to Corone in the first place. To secure his ownership of the Grand Celestial Brewery.

"It's ... Yours," she said very quietly, whispering in a minute, hoarse voice. "Completed. Secured."

A slow, steady intake of breath.

"Right. Good," he paused. "And the household?"

"Sorted as soon as I came in," she replied, a little louder and with more force. But she was still lost and sorrowful. "Done. You have ... It's fixed," she buried her beak deeper into her arms.

There was a long pause. Then she felt pressure on the bed as a weight depressed into it, sending her side rising. A shiver ran down her spine but for the sake of sanity she tried to ignore it. Instead she kept where she was; inward and holding herself and unable to sleep.

"Good. You are of great use to me, Stare. You serve me well."

I never had a choice in the matter, she said to herself.

He took another moment of silence. "I know that you partly loathe my entire existence, but I cannot let you go. I never will. Your very being had begun to enable me to become what I am supposed to be. To understand what I am." The weight shifted as he moved closer to her. "Stare?"

She closed her eyes slowly and let out a inaudible sigh. "Yes?" Her insides were squirming, wanting to be left alone in her misery.

"I had a long conversation with Raevin. He sees no reason for you to lie. And neither do I." Her heart began to thump a little faster. So be believed her now? "But to ascertain the real truth ... Well. I need to see."

That word. Pronounced and strong. A little too obvious to go unknown, full of meaning and a thousand other iterations.

It meant he had fixed the cuff. In those few hours, somehow, he had managed to heal the broken magic on it, however much was broken, and likely this time it would be far harder to take off. Stare knew though that she had no choice this time. Her chances of escape, of leaving this life had failed with Raevin coming to the harbour town. Her chance of ever being free from this man, this god, were dashed with the article of international slavery from Hernsford port. Rubbing at her temples she groaned inwardly at the thought of going back to that life, that way of never knowing if there was someone else watching - but it was what it was.

Rolling over, deliberately not looking at him, she shoved out her left hand.

"Just do it," she said in a gruff voice.

There was a very quiet moment of breathing before she felt the cold metal being pressed ... Into her hand. Not right onto her wrist. He was giving it to her, to place on her own.

Slowly her eyes flickered up and saw him.

He was leaning against the headboard of her bed, one leg folded beneath him, and the other outstretched. White hair lay in perfect folds around his shoulders, never seemingly needing to be brushed as normal. His vivid blue eyes gazed back at her, and they were not full of malice or anger or hatred. Rather, they were full of patience and a willingness to know, to learn.

To understand her more? Maybe.

Looking down away from him her eyes focused on the cuff in her hand. It was the same dull grey metal, tainted with black, but instead of one dim stone set deceptively into it, there were now five. They were dark and opaque, not jewels but rather rocks. They shone though, with a dull light that seemed to hold otherness within them.

For a mad moment Stare considered throwing the thing across the other side of the room. But what purpose would that ever serve? Just to irritate him more, make this whole situation worse. So she sucked in her breath, through the small holes that were her nostrils, and pushed herself to sit up. Without looking back at him she took the cuff in her right hand, and held out her left, pausing for that second.

The moment was eternity. But it was what it was, she was who she was now.

Carefully she pushed the cuff onto her wrist.