Gothmoor IC (purple)

[Zarrae]

Zarraema:
(map - still tucked in the armor she hasn't taken off....yet!)

Guilt settled heavily on her shoulders, draped like a wreath and gaining weight at each reminder of her hand in his training and slavery. Memories of her cruelty and their time in Lloth's temple during her last years of training seared her heart as he pulled at her chin.

How much pleasure she'd gotten from tormenting his every waking moment, for daring to make her uncomfortable by the gentleness of his presence. For all of the times she'd reveled in the fright she caused and the subversion of his faith ... how could he look at her and smile? Even with the burning away of her former self and the change she'd undergone with the Moon Maiden's help... I can never forgive myself.

She remembered the first time Kelzir had come to her attention. A selfish fit of bitter weeping at something rediculously trivial had sent her to her lavish rooms. From that day, and every other time she even thought to need him, he'd been there... that day, to dress the minor welts left by the Matron Mother's punishment for her insolence in breaking some trivial household rule. 'It doesn't have to be this way,' she remembered the words he'd whispered to her. At the time, barely more than a child, it hadn't meant anything. In the end, it was the flame that drew her to Eilistraee's teachings.

She finally found her voice, small as it felt compared to his resonate tones, "...Kelzir, how can I allow you to continue as my slave, after all that you have done for me? It was your gentleness that taught me to dance and your songs that brought me out of the darkness. If anything, my gentle lover, it should be me who is bound in chains."

Too heavy with her past, she leaned forward to lay her forehead on his shoulder, letting the waist-length white-silver hair drape over her, covering over the silent tears like a curtain.