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Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer
Chapter 44: Peace offering

Chapter 44: Peace offering

Content Warning:

Drugging/drinking, hangover, soul torture. Discussion of slavery and selling people.

Her face helps me calm down as I run back across the rooftops, find the alleyway, and drop down. The pouch with my coin still rests in the dirt where I tossed it. I let out a sigh in relief as I drop it back into the side pouch of my tunic.

No sign of the weird reptile things, so I continue on my way. I… I manage to wrap my loose tail back into the shrouded bundle. But… Ugh, it’s shoddy. Thendra is not going to be happy about this! I move into the back alleyway beside the brothel, and scale the wall once I’m sure no one has seen me.

Once I’m on the roof I walk over to the little pile of crates, reach down, and pull up the sack left for me. Then I take a few moments to change back into the sparse clothing of a slave.

Deep breaths. This isn’t you. Just a disguise.

After I stow my attire and coin for Bulderii to pick up for me later, I open the rooftop access and enter.

Soft warm tiled floor, dim sensual lighting, and the smells that accompany most mortal things' sexual endeavors. I scrunch my nose, but move quickly. The servant and slave pathways I’m using to rush through are slim and simple, the best path to reach her. But… there are others wandering through.

Some with food, some with the offer of their body or Amwella, most with both. All give me scrutinizing looks that make me want to… to… I don’t know. Growl and hiss that I’m not one of you! You should fear me as much or more than anyone here for your bodies!

But before those thoughts can rise, I push aside a curtain into a decent sized room. Big soft cushions line every wall, with little tables at each. A single bottle of… something sits beside a single glass on one. And the silence here is punctuated by distant sounds of movement and little cries of pain and pleasure. My eyes immediately jerk to the large charcoal skinned figure that absolutely dominates one of them with her easy lounge.

Thendra’s jade eyes roll over to meet mine. Lazy… but also a bit annoyed. Almost a shout to my senses. You are late.

“Sorry.” I murmur and move to plop down next to her.

After a pause, a finger reaches out to caress–

I jerk back at the pain of it, look over to see a drop of blood on one of her nails. Reach up to touch my face as I remember the sword that grazed me.

Then jade eyes glimmer with Amwella sight, and her expression darkens as they fix on my loose tail that curls around my core. Like a ruffled piece of straw pulled free of an otherwise immaculate woven basket.

I sigh, glare down at talons. “A… A couple weird things cornered me. And… and he had some weird magic collar and–”

I risk a glance, and find only curiosity in her gorgeous jade eyes.

Deep breath. Focus on the important details.

“Red skin, horns, knew I was Fae and mentioned a bounty on me. One not placed by the Matron.” I wind my tail as tight as I can around my core. “There were also two weird snake things. I got onto the rooftops, but… the red guy followed me with some kind of riftwalk. He was able to do it over and over.”

Thendra purrs, but lets me continue.

“I… I couldn’t get away. Then he cornered me and… and it was either I risked him getting the magic collar on me. Or…” I motion to my wriggling Naranggas.

“Did any survive?” She asks like one would consider the possibility of a sandstorm rolling down the streets of Theradas.

I shake my head, trembling at the memory of the warm soulfire devoured. “I… No. At least not… um… The weird snake things didn’t follow us onto the rooftops though. So… they wouldn’t have seen me. I… I’m sorry. I tried to keep this hidden and… and I curled it as close as I could while–”

“You did well.”

Her words send such a wash of relief through me. I… I can’t help but lean over and rest a head on her big wonderful arm. Then… she surprises me. Almost causes me to yelp as I feel one of her smaller tendrils begin to whirl and curl around and through my core beneath the bound Naranggas.

“Um… I thought you were expecting…” I look over toward the exit to the main passages of the brothel.

She purrs, “They’ve not arrived yet, and none would fault me one last bite of my pillow slave before she is sold.”

That… that sends a sort of complex fluttering of emotions through me. I hate the role she’s having me play here… but… It has to be done or–

Her Naranggas grips the tip of my loose one, springs a few teeth, and proceeds to drag and yank it back through the complex bindings she woven the others into. It takes a few moments, and I know better than to struggle, but… by the end I’m a quivering mess of cold aching pain as she pulls her tendril free, its tip dripping with freshly absorbed soulfire.

“Dreamer’s Tits.” I blubber. Arms going up and wrapping around myself. “I… I’m sorry.”

“For?” She leans forward and pours a glass of the weird liquid.

“I… That… Weren’t you…?” I stammer as I push down the pain.

She closes the glass bottle, holds the cup out to me. “That was not a punishment.”

“It… It sure felt like it.” I take the offered cup with shaking hands.

She doesn’t reply, just… gives me a sidelong look as I take a short sip of the drink and–

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And almost spew the foul burning thing.

“Dreamer’s… Cunt and–” I sputter, fight down the urge to vomit. “Th– That’s Vile!”

No flavor, just… pain. Burning, horrid pain that bubbles and roils.

“Drink it all.” Thendra commands.

I consider asking an eternity of questions. Why? What is this vile drink? Does it contain blood? Why are you hurting me? Is this the punishment for messing up my tail bindings?

But… I just… pinch my nose, and down the foul thing. Nearly throw up immediately, but… fight to keep it down.

“Uuuuuugh.” I whine as she takes the cup and rests it on the table. I sort of just… collapse into the back of the couch. “What was that?”

She says words that mean nothing to me, then adds. “I would normally only consume about a third of what you just drank, else find myself… dulled.”

I would glare over at her in horror and anger, but… ugh my… My chest hurts. Head is… going a bit fuzzy. So all I ask is, “Then… Why make me drink a full cup!?!”

“Because you are a terrible liar, and we need our client to believe this display.”

“I c’n lie good.” I grumble through the pain and melting brain things.

Thendra just purrs a laugh and returns to a relaxed position.

Everything seems to be moving too fast, while my body seems to slow and… and feel more of the things. Amwella sight just kinda flickers into my awareness a few times. Souls with no bodies seem to… to pop in and out of my awareness. I fight to ignore it, to… but my Naranggas can sense the pressure of the Amwella and make ignoring the sensory overload too much.

The chest pain fades, but… seems to leave me numb and a little warm. Even shaking every few moments.

“M– May I sing?” I plead groggily as I bring knees up to my chest. “I hate this. Pl– Please let me dull it.”

“No. Your state is perfect for our deception.” Thendra thrums, “Now… remember your role and purpose. Fall into the draught, but not so much that you forget the most crucial steps.”

I shake and shudder, but nod. Go quiet. I want to hate her for this, but I can only really think about how nice it would be to just… curl into a very small shape and fall asleep in those big strong arms.

Eventually the main curtain is pushed aside, and I blearily notice a figure enter. She’s… odd. Very pale skin with a purple tinting, and… weird horns like some I’ve seen in Theradas. But… also with a few eyestalks. Face eyes are a glittering crimson with Smokey black running through, while her eyestalks are… huh… no actual eyes. So… just head tendrils? Little nubs are tipped with a single tooth thing and she stands about a head taller than me.

“Ah,” She purses her lips as my dark goddess stands. “You most definitely are Thendra of the Thirteen.”

“I am.” Thendra nods, then motions to the far couch. “Tretion, Granddaughter of Watchers. Please sit, and know that I extend my hospitality to you.”

She nods and does so.

“May I offer you food or drink? Of the soul or otherwise?” Thendra purrs as she lowers herself.

“No, but thank you. I do not intend to remain at the heart of this horrid city for long.”

My dark goddess laughs, a low and humorless thing. “Wise, It is not a city well known for its… relaxing climate.”

Tretion nods. “Quite right. So let’s skip the pleasantries, if such a request will not be taken with offense.”

“It will not.” Thendra nods. “My offer is as it stands. I have no desire to battle any of the Matron’s scions, and seek to dissolve even the notion of it. I am offering you and some of your kin her holdings throughout Theradas as a gesture of peace.”

“Hmm…” Tretion’s tendrils shift with obvious discomfort. “It’s generous of you. But… why? Why not sell them or offer lesser things?”

Thendra shrugs. “My business is not managing flesh and soul trading. I wish to keep violence as my only trade.”

Tretion stiffens, but… nods. “I… I don’t wish to offend… but…”

Thendra sighs as she trails off, “I keep my oaths, Watcher. You can speak whatever insults you like and I will not raise a hand to you, neither here nor once you leave. I never sought conflict with your grandmother, only needed to repay her treachery.”

Tretion seems to pause, then meaningfully relax. “Honestly, The old cunt earned her death and so much more. She was never kind to me or mine. Simply… tolerated me because my mother insisted that even an eyeless half-breed was one of hers.”

Thendra nods, “You’ve built for yourself more than most of her kin, if she cared more for results and loyalty she would still be alive.”

“So… understand, when I refuse your offer, it’s simply because I hate this city.” She waves an arm and two tendrils vaguely around. “I wish to manage a brothel in it less than you. No matter how profitable.”

Thendra drums fingers on her knee, false contemplation that I only see because I know the outcome she seeks. “I still wish to offer all of her scattered family a boon from her estate. A token of…” Thendra’s eyes dart to me, as if a thought interrupts her musings. “Would you accept… Hm…”

“If I can take this boon back to my home amidst a single riftwalk that would be much preferred.” Even though my eyes are still warbling I can see that she’s barely even trying to read Thendra. I… she didn’t need to have me drink that!!! Didn’t need to put me in such misery…

“While you may not be her most well renowned offspring.” Thendra murmurs, then turns back to the woman. “I do consider you the most important to keep neutral. Your wealth may be… tempered, but you’ve survived where many of your kin would fall. Only your cousin Getrik compares, and that is because of her rage and natural abilities.”

Tretion snorts, “And she hated the old hag more than either of us. She’ll send you a boon for ending her in such a brutal fashion.”

Thendra purrs a laugh. “She already has. But… I’m considering offering you the Fae who slew your Matron.”

Tretion jerks, and there is a long pause as she just… stares at Thendra.

“I… word was that… but… Why?” The woman stammers.

Thendra sighs, then looks at me. Tretion eyes follow and… huh. No Amwella weight. Her gaze doesn’t seem to hamper my soul in the slightest. I think even without it I would normally flinch, but… ugh… everything is weird and slow and I’m barely even trying to follow this. Just… just want to stare off into the wall and let my thoughts melt.

“Wait, this is her?” Tretion hisses and her face eyes glimmer when her own soul sight activates.

“It is.” Thendra’s voice turns low, and bleeds annoyance.

“But you said she killed my grandmother?”

“I’ll admit, without this little Fae my Reaver’s and I could never have hoped to match her. Especially at the estate's heart. Surrounded by her two favorite kin and allies. But now…” Thendra reaches out, and pulls me over to her. I don’t resist, but it’s also hard to help as my muscles refuse to unwind. “She was very good with cursed songs, and adapted well at first. But I pushed her too hard in that conflict.”

Tretion’s eyes and even tendril points seem to focus on me now. “I mean I heard the rumors. But… How do you even keep her bound to you?”

Thendra turns me, displaying the curse that binds my songs. “This. It cannot be altered or removed to a new owner.”

Tretion nods, “But… Why offer her to me?”

Thendra tosses me into the corner of the couch with such a sudden display of anger and annoyance I can’t help but let a little huff out. The… whatever it was she had me drink is messing up my brain though. This is all part of her plan! Why am I starting to cry? I… I know this is all a lie!

“Because she is broken! Mind a shattered wreck as shadows gather around her soul.” Thendra growls. “Her Amwella will still offer a boon to any who wish to drink from her, and its ability to recover in the morning after even the most intense feeding is very useful.”

Tretion nods and… Dreamer’s Tits she actually… is… is that pity she’s looking at me with? Not hunger or fury or… anything like that?

I shift my focus back to the wall, huddle my knees closer. Try to… to fight the random pulses of Amwella and the annoying gurgling mess that my head is becoming.

“I… see.” She murmurs.

“In this state she cannot come with me into a conflict.” Thendra leans back, “I would place her in one of these brothels, a luxury prize that would bring in a decent amount of coin, but… As I said, I do not wish to manage such a place.”

“And any that could pay you well probably fear the risk of having her.” Tretion murmurs.

“Precisely.” Thendra regards the watcher. “But if you take her, A gift from me to you, well… None could claim I insulted you with a measly token. You received the broken weapon that laid your Matron low. Keep her as a prized pillow slave.”

The word almost makes me flinch. Not a slave, not a slave, not a slave.

“But…” Tretion just stares at me with… well still pity. But also worry. “What of that curse mark?”

Thendra’s eyes glimmer, and I brace for pain.

“Lyra, sing some healing for yourself.”

She… she could have offered me anything! And she knows how much I hate the way that blighted drink makes me feel. But… I grind my teeth, and refuse the song. All part of her plan.

I tremble and shake, eyes squeeze shut as my head and soul scream horrid pain when the stinger bites into me.

“The curse pains her when she does not do as I bid with her songs.” Thendra growls. “The pain is direct and harsh, a perfect punishment. And yet… she will not sing for me anymore.”

“I…” Tretion stammers, real pain if her voice. “You can stop her, Thendra. I… I see your issues with her plainly.”

Thendra waits a breath, then releases me from the pain. The watcher gulps, eyes never leave me as she watches the curse calm.

“I… If you offer me this, I’ll take her.” Tretion finally turns to my dark goddess as I slump. The drink’s effects redoubled as I lose focus from the curse's pain. “And we will remain at peace. Not allies, but not enemies. I will remain neutral to any conflicts you enter into. Even with my family.”

Thendra nods, and eventually stands to offer the watcher her hand. “And I offer you the same.”

They grasp wrists and when they pull away there's an awkward pause.

“As an honored guest, I will instruct the keeper of this place to offer you anything you desire.” Thendra moves to leave the way Tretion came in.

“Kind of you, but… is this building warded against a riftwalk?”

Thendra purrs a laugh. “No, you can leave Theradas from here.” Then she is gone, and I’m left with the watcher.

Tretion hesitates as her attention turns to me, then she offers a hand. “Come, we’re leaving this horrible city.”

I don’t move. Both because I’m not sure I can with this moment's choice of dizziness, but also because I’m to play the part of a mind-broken Fae. I expect this to be where she shows me pain. Either with a blow or spell or… well those tendril’s teeth are sharp…

But she only winces, then steps over to me and kneels. “I’m not going to hurt you. I only wish that when we shift you don’t stumble.”

I take a moment, enough for her to consider another option. But… then I slowly and lazily uncurl myself and rise. Keep my gaze down and on the far wall.

“Alright, this… this’ll feel odd. But only for a second. Try to avoid getting sick.” She murmurs and reaches down to take my wrist gently. Then, in a wrapping of green smoke and horrid feeling of vertigo, this watcher takes me from Theradas.