Private Tales Illuminations of the Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She smiles slightly seeing his smile, perhaps she could win him over in time. She looks at him, a gentle look, her arrogant voice reflecting the same, "I want to make it a turning point for the better for you, Trevan dear." She just lets that sit, without explaining further detail than that as to her motives and thought process behind that statement.

Then, she listens to his thoughts and recommendations, pondering the validity of it, and finds herself agreeing with his strategy, even though she wants a mount. She nods, smiling slightly that he has money for them to work with. She finally nods, "As much as I want a mount as soon as possible, I know that our window of time to use the assassin bodies at our disposal is limited. Your plan is sound and I authorize it, Trevan darling." She credits herself for recognizing his idea, but she also credits him for coming up with it in the first place. That is much more appreciation than he would ever get from another drowess, even a common merchant let alone a Matron Mistress.
 
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Keeping his eyes down at the floor, Trevan would nod and smile at her agreement.
"Then perhaps you would like to be off, and see this thing done, yes mistress?" He would say, his voice maintaining its soft subdued tone. "I have private chambers that you can reside in while I make the preparations. It may take a few days, but my accommodations should hold up to your lovely standards."

It was now that he indicated a second door that was behind the mistress, one that presumably would lead them in the direction he spoke of. House Soithiel. Potentially a very dangerous place for her, but also a place assassins from other houses would never look. Time for her to choose how far she was willing to trust Trevan, or offer up her own solutions.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She smiles a bit, almost looking relieved. She won't have to walk around, she can just rest and relax? This is better than she hoped. However, the danger she could be in, is not lost on her. She looks at his countenance, the way he is looking down, and her voice softens more, with a bit of that sultry tone. "Before we go Trevan darling... Bringing me in is quite risky to you and your house. How do you intend to bring me in, secret passage? Gap in guard shifts?" It seems the more one acknowledges her authority, the more she softens to them.

She ponders that he could be playing an elaborate game, luring her into his house, where he can kill her and give House Solthiel a reward, not just claiming a reward for himself, if he is actually serving someone else directly. She could be walking into a trap. But at this point, traps and death could await her anywhere, and is absolutely guaranteed if she did nothing. She has nowhere else to go, so perhaps one risk is no worse than another at this point? She ponders this, but maintains a calm exterior, she just prepares herself to be ready for anything.
 
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Trevan would nod as she spoke. "A bit of both, mistress. The slaves and servants have their own comings and goings through many such passages as this one. Obviously there isn't a direct path onto the House grounds, but once inside we have our own servant passages."

"Also, I am the captain of my house guard. We do not need a gap. I can dismiss my guards as needed to bring you through."
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She nods, thinking a moment. This is either the perfect trap, or the perfect opportunity. There are no other options, so she must hope for the latter... But be prepared for the former. She then responds, "Is there anything you need of me in particular, or anything I need to know or be prepared for ahead of time?" Granted, she doesn't yet trust him, she simply has no other choice. But within that, is the opportunity to come through for her to prove his trustworthiness, just as she must prove a worthy Mistress for him to devote himself to. Perhaps it is not an unreasonable exchange.

It dawns on her that if she is to build a house, particularly on the surface, she will have to prove herself a worthy Mistress many times. This is the first opportunity to learn to do so. She must succeed, because with as much as she needs, and as much as she is determined to accomplish, it's either succeed or death. As she waits and listens for his response, she quickly checks her gear, which is hardly anything, being that she is too weak to handle more without compromising mobility and rapidly increasing fatigue. Her rapiers, a belt pouch secured snugly on a string of her scant clothing, and the haramaki over her midriff, a very light armor piece that she can handle.
 
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Trevan remains where he has been standing, but his eyes drift up to peer at Zel. His small smile returns. "You may have to play the part of a ... slave concubine. Is that within your abilities, mistress?" He pauses briefly before adding "Just for appearances, of course."

He does not sound as if he believes she is incapable of such a deception, but rather he sounds slightly amused for some reason or another. He further goes on to explain "It is not uncommon for a drow lord to... entertain himself in such a way. It would be a perfect excuse to keep you hidden away within my private chambers."

He would go quiet now, eyes watching Zel for her reaction and if she found the idea a worthy one. It really was the best option, as far as Trevan could put together. Perhaps she had one better?
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She scowls, and this time it doesn't go away so fast. Was this the plan all along, to humiliate her then kill her? Her eyes narrow, she is upset and suspicious. The fact that this amuses him displeases her greatly... He would take satisfaction in her humiliation. She just stands there for a while. Again, it all comes back to what other options she has. At least, if she survives, she can rise above such humiliation, regain her rightful place. When she speaks, her tone of voice is not so pleasant and sultry, but cold and annoyed. "I see... You best hope nobody recognizes me. A drowess of my size is... Well, I haven't seen any. It will not be so easily forgotten the pleasure you are taking in my humiliation, Trevan." She lets her scowling glare make her point...

Then like a very accomplished actress, she averts her gaze. She has had many slaves herself, and she knows the routine. But she never thought SHE would have to play that part. She remembers the pleasure she used to take, humiliating a slave, but also how that pleasure did not last so long when the slaves did not serve with excellence, or worse, simply gave up and let themselves get killed. She could not go very long without service, so waiting to replenish her requirement of slaves was not an option. She soon began to try and find ways to treat them better. it led to her gaining too much influence in her own house, and was part of the reason for her exile. She had much to learn, but she had made considerable progress, compared to any other drowess that she'd ever seen, although that is admittedly a very low bar. She then mumbles, quite convincingly, "Lead on... Master."
 
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With a small shake of his head, his amusement lingered. He un-slung his pack and shuffled around inside it, withdrawing a very elegant cloak and handed it over to her. "Put this around you, covering your face and wrap it around your body. I will go and fetch my mount to carry you. Others will presume you are bound. When we draw near to my manor, I will direct those about to cast their eyes away. They will come to the most logical conclusion that I have taken a concubine." He says, watching to see if she would do as asked.

"I will treat you as carefully as I can. No harm will come to you. I know my people, and they will obey. If we come across one of my family, they will not stop me from this. They will probably ask me about it later, but it will not be difficult to deceive them."
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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Mistress ponders this. So he already has his own mount, and this will keep the appearance, being that she will be covered, that she is someone else. She will appear to be of a weight that matches her size. Anyone who knows how very light she is, will have no clue that it is her. She sees that his plan is actually very good... Presuming he isn't setting her up for a trap...

She breaks her acting for a moment. Still she is angry, and it shows in her face and voice, but she is not yelling at him, she is trying to stay calm, even though she feels completely humiliated, "Your plan is... Sound. Despite my misgivings... I authorize it." She looks at the cloak. It is a very, very big cloak, which to do this it is important that the cloak is just barely big enough for her, and that is saying something. She looks back at him, still angry but with a touch of curiosity, "Where did you get a cloak that size?" She takes the cloak in her soft delicate hands, and wraps it around herself, making sure to obscure her face enough. She then ponders that she will have a mount, and not have to walk and fatigue herself. Underneath the obscuring cloak, she smiles a bit at that. If the plan wasn't so humiliating... She decides that if he is serious, that if this is not a trap, that maybe she won't be angry at him for too long.
 
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Trevan smiles. "It's not actually a cloak. But no one will know the difference. It's a sheet I use for concealment in the caverns. You can pin it against a wall and hide while resting." He steps closer to her and would snag one of its edges, turning it over to reveal that it has difficult to see runes stitched into the underside of the fine silk sheet. "These keep scent and sound hidden as well. A nifty trick I developed for my soldiers when we need to travel the caverns. They're dangerous, as you undoubtedly know, mistress.” He then bows to her and steps toward the door that would lead into the servant tunnel. “You will be safe here. I suggest you remain while I go and fetch Aragog, my spider mount.”
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She nods under the 'cloak', her voice a tad warmer towards him. He really does seem to be a very adept help to her. "I see Trevan dear. Indeed, they are dangerous... And I'm glad you came across this cloak, then." She pauses, then nods, "I will be right here, awaiting your return." She waits patiently, but now she finds an old looking chair, not made for someone her size, but she sits in it anyway, her soft form easily squishing in and around it, and her super light weight, not burdening it at all. And so she takes a moment to relax before her servant returns. She listens for him though, she will already be moving to the door when he opens it.
 
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It took a good hour or so before Trevan returned, but it was not from the doorway in which he disappeared, but instead at the door in which they entered the small room. He quietly pressed it open and glided in, bowing low to Zelyndra and as usual he had a small smile upon his lips.

"Your ride has arrived, Mistress Baeoryth. May I escort you?" He remains bowed, hand upturned to take hers and lead her out to the spider mount named Aragog.

The spider was a quick spindly thing. White exoskeleton with long white legs. A myriad of dark black eyes peered seemingly every which way, unblinking, reflecting the glow of the glow lanterns that lit the city as a whole. The saddle was strapped tightly to it's cephalothorax, and looked to be made of supple fine leather.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She pauses, and hearing him from the other door, at first she begins to prepare to attack, but then seeing that it is her servant, she relaxes. Then seeing his bowing gesture, she smile softly. Though still annoyed and feeling humiliated on one level, the fact that even now he is showing her respect, whether he truly means it or not, is still important to her, and her voice softens from her earlier anger, "Yes, Trevan darling." She steps forward and she puts her hand in his. Her hand is remarkably soft, and a bit squishy, a very comforting, soothing, gentle hand. Clearly a hand that has never done an iota of labor her entire life. And somehow with her, it seems proper for her to be that way, like it would be a travesty to the proper order of things for her to do anything of a laborious nature.

She walks with her silky smooth, natural hip swaying gait, still jiggling plenty anyway with the movement, to the spider mount as it bends down to accommodate her. She makes sure her face is covered, then steps onto Aragog, and sits on the saddle. Although she is much too big for the saddle, her softness is evident as she does not appear to be the least bit uncomfortable. The spider rises without any difficulty whatsoever, but then for a strong spider, even one her size should pose no problem. She then takes on the demeanor of a slave concubine, her body language very convincing as is the voice from underneath her covering, "Lead on, master." It grates on her last nerves to say such a thing to a male, but this is about survival. If all goes well, and if Trevan does indeed become her willing servant some day, perhaps she won't hold it against him.
 
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He can't help but give a quite chuckle at her calling him master, but he is quick to master it and hide it away. He pats Aragog on it's head above its chelicerae and then issues an order to the insect with a chitter-like sound. The creature rose to its comfortable skittering height, and began to follow Trevan as he led it out of the alley, away from the fateful marketplace, and up toward the royal houses.

From over his shoulder, Trevan would peek at the mistress, making sure she was continuing the charade.
"You are a marvelous performer." He comments, his voice it's usual upbeat confident tone. It was true, from what he could tell. She played the part well. He imagined that she had to play parts in various devious deeds in the past, so he surmised that this should come quite naturally to a drowess. He nods to himself as he continues to lead Aragog. She was proving to be quite capable, and he was beginning to suspect that she could be a rather enjoyable mistress to serve.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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Her soft form tantalizingly jiggling along with every step Aragog makes, Mistress is seething underneath her perfectly acting exterior, her voice spot on in mimicking what a slave concubine would sound like, "Whatever is pleasing to you, Master." His chuckle was not lost on her, and her warm feelings have faded away again. He takes joy in mocking her. She has never felt so humiliated in all her life and he is enjoying it. The audacity! The insolence! She will address this mockery against her when they are in private. For now their survival is key, so she plays the part, sounding every bit like she is prepared to give him whatever pleasures suit his every whim. If he is going to mock her so, and enjoy belittling her, she wonders if it is even possible to win him over, if that is all she is to him... A thing to be mocked, to be taken advantage of in her desperate situation. And so she rides along, playing her part to perfection, but seething vehemently underneath the veneer.
 
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She was so good at her act that Trevan did not pick up on the seething undercurrent that flowed through her being. Instead, he focused on his plans, and continued to lead Aragog. They were passing into the noble district now, and the populace began to thin out. However, this was going to be the most dangerous part of their short trek. Putting on every heir of authority that belonged to him, Trevan marched his 'captive' toward house Soithiel. The journey neared its end, and had gone as smoothly as he had hoped. No one bothered them. It was as he thought, and the drow who are ever devious only saw what they assumed would be true. An evil deed, not one that was bordering heroic. Trevan smiled to himself at that thought. This was the first time in his entire life he could remember doing something to help someone other than his mother or sisters.

As they passed through the house gates, two guards positioned there greeted Trevan, saluting him as they should their captain of the guard.

"Do not look upon my spoils." Trevan barked, and the eyes diverted obediently. Trevan and Zel passed unhindered. At the spider stable he led Aragog inside, and found the large stable room to be empty. He turned to the mistress and offered her a hand. "Come. You must stand aside while I unsaddle him and then we will use the servant passages, mistress."
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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He calls her Mistress again, but from what he said before, it was just for her satisfaction, not because he meant it. Now with him mocking her, she was doubtful... What if he really just intended to keep her as a concubine? She didn't want to fight him, even though she was so angry at him. She still wanted to prove her greatness by winning him over, and besides, what good would fighting him do? First of all, she might not even win, he was very capable, and if she did win, then what? She is in an enemy house that would want her dead, out numbered. Add to that, even if by some miracle she got out of that, then what? Provide for herself outside of the city, in the dangerous tunnels of the underdark? She would be dead, one way or another, the greatest Matron Mistress of all time, destroyed before she even began.

No, no... This was her only course of action, play her part, see if this Trevan really is sincere, see if she is nothing but a convenient play thing for him... Or if she can win him over... Even if he does intend for her to be his slave concubine, she wouldn't fight him, no... She would 'defeat' him by winning him to her her side, to her service... In the end, she would be good to him, as good as she knew how to be... Well, after she made sure that he would not mock her and take joy in her displeasure ever again.

She nods, keeping up the charade. The spider lowers her so she can step off, she takes his hand again, with her soft, comfy, soothing, gentle hand, and she steps aside to let him unsaddle the spider as she prepares to go down the servant passages. She continues to play her part, every gesture, every stance, the model of a slave concubine.
 
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It doesn't take long for Trevan to unsaddle the spider Aragog, and he leads the creature into its stable where in a corner is a large cocoon like thing made up of white spider silk. It wiggles slightly and a muffled sound can be heard before Trevan closes the door.

He has a small frown on his lips as he steps past Zel and motions for her to follow. He leads her into the servant passage way, which is dark and currently unoccupied. Trevan pulls out his tome and flips it open to a page, a movement well practiced as he seems to find the page he wanted. With a few whispered words the page momentarily glows, then a soft glowing light appears above his head, gently bobbing as if tethered to him like a balloon.

"This way." He says, clearly not using the honorific this time. There could be eyes and ears here.

He leads her down the hallway, and where it splits he takes her down to the left. Then a right. Then a few more turns as they weave their way through the walls and floors that seem to envelop the manor proper in a latticework, convenient for servants to get where they need to go without having the Matron or the mistresses have to see them.

It suited Trevan just fine to use these passages himself on occasion.

They did happen to pass by a wretched old looking human man, who didn't even look up from his slow pained shuffle down a different hall. Then, Trevan stopped at a wall that seemed inconspicuous. He pressed on it and it swung open perfectly quiet. He guided Zel out into a luxurious looking hallway, at the end of which was a grand set of doors that might very well be made entirely out of woven bone.

"We're nearly there."
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She follows him along, his cautious pace suitable to her. She never breaks character, and continues to look just like a proper slave concubine, just a very large, nicely shaped one. Underneath she continues to seethe, waiting for an opportune time to address her anger at him. She is glad for her at will immunity to wind effects, as much wind shifts and blows through the tunnels, if she did not leave it active, she could have blown away down any number of passageways. She notes the male slave internally, and she notices everything else as well, but one wouldn't know it, as she keeps the act going. She hears his statement that they are near, and even though with the cautious pace she is not fatigued yet, she is glad anyway. It is always a help to have her full abilities at her disposal should trouble come. Although in a place like this, even all her abilities, and Trevan's for that matter, wouldn't be near enough for them to escape. Their best bet is to go about the plan Trevan has wisely laid out. If it wasn't for how well this was working out, she'd be much more upset. Then again, maybe not, because she'd be dead, they'd both be dead. She continues following him, playing her part.
 
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Trevan pushes the door open, the hinges perfectly oiled, not a single sound escaping as they quietly moved into Trevan's personal quarters. He ushers her forward and would close the door behind her. The door is locked, and he turns to face her.

He knew he had to be delicate here.

He chose his words carefully, lowering his gaze and spreading his hands out in a manner of respect. "Delivered, safely, upon mine own chambers. I give these to you, until we can make our preparations to depart. I do hope these accommodations will please you Mistress."

The room was lavish, no expense withheld. There was even a large balcony that would show a view of the lower city and it's dazzling lights. It was spacious, with amble rugs covering nearly all floor surfaces, comfortable and warm.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She notes the decor and architecture, what she had expected from a house of the status of House Solthiel. She frowns slightly, realizing that she probably won't be able to enjoy the view, she'll have to stay away from the windows. But now more important issues need to be dealt with, namely Trevan's insolence! However, at his display of submission and respect, her fury stops it's incessant rise on the way to his quarters. She finally breaks character, but he can see her using the drow sign language to him. 'Are we truly able to speak and act freely? No spying?' The look on her face, in her vibrant violet eyes... He hasn't seen such fury, since... Even the fury of his own mother he can't recall being any greater!

Yet... Yet, she wants to talk, she hasn't struck him yet, or anything of the sort, but he might now realize that she has been seething on the way here, perhaps since he suggested the plan, each step her fury growing. He must be very careful indeed...
 
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He was right to be cautious, as he saw now for the first time the toll that journey took on her pride as a mistress. He knew better than to make any sort of remark or hint of body language that might give away his true feelings on the matter.

He caught her drow sign and nodded to her once more.

"I keep my rooms well warded with runes, both by sound and by sight. No one gazing into this room, or listening at the door, physically or magically, will hear or see or have any hint as to what goes on in these chambers."

She would likely deduce her own ideas as to why he would keep his chambers protected in such a way. It wasn't uncommon, but perhaps a bit more than usual for within one's own house.

"You are free to be yourself within these walls, mistress Baeoryth."
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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She doesn't have to imagine why he would have such protections in place. Even within one's own house a drow was never truly safe, at least without taking proper precautions, and even then...

She has a presence that goes beyond the elegance of the place, but she will accept the amenities of course. It is safe here, and she can finally address his insulting insolence. She just glares at him, gathering her thoughts. As angry as she is, she doesn't want to hurt him, both because, what good would that do? And because... Well, his plan worked. Even beyond all that, if she ever hopes to win him over, abusing him to resentment is not the way. Such ways have already pushed him to want to leave drow society and she could not afford having him leave her. But now she doubted she could win him over. Already his respect was just a facade, and now he mocked her humiliation. If these were his true feelings... If she couldn't win over one of her own kind, who had a reason of sorts to serve her, what were her chances of ever winning anyone else over as well, especially if they made it to the surface? However, she had to succeed in her goals, it was either that or death, as she could not survive on her own, nor could she fail to prove drow rule something that was right and true and best for all.

Another layer to this was... Despite the drow conditioning to eliminate all feelings and vulnerabilities, drow were still a people who felt things, even deeply, but they redirected it in ways of violence and vengeance, including such means of stealth and subterfuge. Getting stabbed in the back was an all too common occurrence in drow society. But since her own limitations forced her to look to another way to survive, she couldn't just redirect intense feelings into anger and vengeance. Which meant she had to do what few drow had any experience in doing... Facing and dealing with her actual feelings, and as she glared at him she realized... She wasn't just angry, no... This was far deeper, the actual reason for her anger... She was hurt, he hurt her very deeply, striking at the core of who she is as a person. If this was how he truly felt about her... Her long term prognosis was very grim indeed. She would just have to do her best to survive each day, and hope that she could win someone to her side. She would never give up trying to win him over, he was her best shot... For everything. But she did not have her hopes up, only a grim determination.

She tries not to show her vulnerability, he likely wouldn't understand, and just use it as an opportunity to hurt her worse. She finally speaks, seething, but holding her calm, "You find my predicament amusing? You like me being humiliated? I see that you already only act to placate me, and that you mock me, and enjoy taking advantage of the situation to amuse yourself. I already agreed to follow your plan because what else could I do to survive? I already had to bear such humiliation. To mock me over it, is beyond what any Matron Mistress, or even a common drowess should ever have to deal with. If you expect our time together to be successful, you best not continue to treat me in a way that makes me think there are better options. Perhaps my chances of surviving alone are less than optimal," That was a bit of an understatement, "but do not fool yourself, dear. Despite my own limitations, your chances of doing the same without me are also not worth the risk of drawing my ire."

Never had a drowess bothered to deal with breaking down such feelings, let alone doing so without resorting to violence. But despite her intense feelings she has done so. That is in a way a level of respect she is giving him that nobody, male or female has ever given him. Even if she doesn't see his true feelings, the fact that she would explain herself, and to help him understand the situation between them... She was different, and while this path is harder, no wonder she was able to win the loyalty of her slaves and servants.
 
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Trevan has spent well over a hundred years withstanding far worse from a mistress, and was stoic as he listened, remaining silent and allowing her to speak her peace. She continued to surprise him, but he studied the floor at her feet with his mind churning. Was she acting this way because of her situation? Or was this how she simply was? It was something that only time would tell.

As he listened, the irony of what she said was not lost on him. Much of what she explained about how she felt and how she had to act, what she had to do to survive, was in direct relation to Trevan's entire life. The life of a male drow. He held his tongue, wisely, and when she stopped speaking, he bowed low to her once more.

"When the time comes for our departure, I will do what I can to prevent such a humiliation a second time, Mistress. I humbly ask your forgiveness for my amusement before."

He does not correct her about what amused him, for correcting a mistress was never a good idea. He would not tell her that his amusement was based more on how little having a concubine has ever been a desire of his, and how his plan incorporated concealing her as one. But mistresses always saw the slight, always saw the subterfuge.

Trevan reminded himself that she likely still saw a male drow just as much as he still saw a mistress. He studied her. Would they ever escape the ties that bind their society? Even above the surface? He made no outward appearance of his inner thoughts.
 
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Zzzzzzzz

Mistress Zelyndra Baeoryth
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Seeing him respond appropriately she ponders if even her 'scolding' was too harsh. Her demeanor softens considerably, and a bit of warmth touches her voice again, even a bit of that sultry tone, "Trevan darling, you will find me a reasonable Mistress. While I am watching you, I also forgive you. And my watching is not with the desire to catch a mistake and be harsh with you... But to catch you proving your words true." She pauses her voice getting softer as a glimmer of hope peeks through her eyes, "I want us to succeed Trevan dear. Understand, I take no pleasure in being harsh with you. If I never had to be again it would please me greatly. I hope to get the chance to show you that."

She looks him over, making no qualms about how she finds him pleasing, but she make no move to force or demand anything. Then she sighs, her voice at a normal volume, with that gentle warmth that she seems to prefer to show towards him, "Trevan darling, I presume I am to wait here. Is there anything you need of me while I wait? Any way I can make things better for you?"

What Mistress has ever cared about what would be better for him? His own mother never did that! She is unlike any Mistress he has ever come across... Suddenly it's as if all the beauty and grandiose magnificence of the underdark, of the elegance of the physical structures as well as the intangible intricacies of their society, is not worthy of her, not even close. She seems truly beyond any Matron that has ever lived among these subterranean halls. Perhaps he could speak his mind if he was respectful about it. She has not refused to listen to his thoughts yet.
 
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