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Description
Chains clanked as eyes shuddered open. The cold sent shivers through the air as well as her body. No sound came from behind her gagged lips, and only sung from the chiming links. Where she was also asked a question. This place, she had never seen it before in her life, and dearly wished that she would never see it again; but with every blink of those pale orbs the nightmare was only reaffirmed as reality.

Suspended somewhere above her head her wrists ached, frigid metal biting into them. This place, there was nowhere to hide from the cold. There was next to nothing in the room, nowhere to hide even if she did get free of those chains. Realistically the only place one could hide was behind the door when it opened, otherwise there wasn't even a corner to cower in. The circular room was capped off with a roof that had since been forgotten, the cloudy night sky barely visible through the gaping holes. In the light of day she guessed it would be more obvious, but the room right now was just as dark as the night, everything only visible as a dark shade of grey, though she was willing to bet her freedom that everything in this room was that colour anyway; well maybe everything apart from the straw. Though by the smell she didn't think it could be that good a colour. If the door was at twelve, and she at six, then the pile of straw rested at nine, though pile was a far too generous word for the poor scattering there was of it. This place though, still her mind refused to admit how she had come to be here.

It was hazy in her mind, what any of her life had been like before she had ended up in here. Surely there had been something, one was not just born on the cusp of adulthood into a room, chained to a wall? She knew this, and yet her memories were at a loss to how she had got here. Nothing in the room seemed to be offering any clues to how she had managed to make her way here. The ache in her body certainly resounded in her arms, but had no reason for being in her legs. The limbs felt like lead, was that purely from the cold? Had she been running? If so, where were her boots, she couldn't imagine running around with nothing on her feet; but then she couldn't imagine being outside in what she was wearing, especially given how cold the night was. Had her stuff been taken away when she entered this room? It would certainly make some sort of sense. Had she been trying to run here? No, that didn't make sense, why would she want to be in this situation. Had she run here to get out of the rain and then encountered this? That was a possibility. So where had she actually been heading, what sort of journey had she been on? As the door opened with a resounding bang she realised just how wrong she had been. She hadn't been running to get here, she'd been running to get away from that.

The icy gust that came with the open door made her try to curl up, grating her skin across the harsh stone, feet bleeding as her body dragged them back towards her. Only the sharp intake of breath allowed her to admit the pain. Footsteps crunched across the room, and somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered the sound of crunching glass. Her head shot up, trying to find where the window had been, but before she could look her head beat a hasty retreat, pain searing up her neck and into the base of her skull from the sudden movement. Water trickled from the corner of her eyes, a soft whimper coming from behind the gag.

The dark chuckle made her stop, the noise resounding through the room, echoing off of the bare walls before it escaped through the broken roof. She peered back up at him through dark tresses, eyes suddenly shying away as light was introduced. The cold hand took her chin, sharpened nails digging into her cheek. The other brushed aside her dark hair, giving a clearer view of her face. Eyes shuddered open, fighting the light, but in that moment she felt dread hit her, sinking to the bottom of her stomach and making her want to throw up.

Red eyes pierced into hers, making her gulp. They seemed to draw her in, making her lose all conscious of what was going on. He ... She blinked, momentarily breaking the spell and tearing her eyes away. Sweat dripped down her body, breaths struggling to heave because of the gag.
"Will you not look at me?" Her eyes were now scrunched shut, but her entire body seemed to shut down at his icy voice.

Something about his voice made her want to obey, but something deeper inside told her not to, perhaps it was survival. Peering through lashes she slowly looked back at him, eyes focusing on his lips. Thin pale lips, thinning further as they curled into a smile.
"Good girl." He knew she was looking, despite the fact that her eyes were barely open. Those words sent shivers down her spine. Despite how cold everything was, she could feel herself heating up; cheeks becoming red and not from the cold.

Slender fingers reached behind her head, undoing the gag, pulling it gently from her mouth.
"There now." She just couldn't stand that voice.
"Wh-"
"Shush now. I am the one to ask questions." Her wrists shook, the clanking no longer seeming so loud.
"Tell me." Tell him what? Had she missed the question? She could barely remember anything, so was there really something to tell?
"Your name."

Her pale eyes opened wide, downcast, as if trying to see what was through the floor; but they remained sightless. Her breath caught, somewhere between a yelp and a strangled sob. All of her body shook, only stopping as he once again took her chin. Water dripped from the corner of her eyes as he pulled her face back up to look at him, but those pale pools were still attached to the floor.
"I..." she stuttered, as if she were a mute who had discovered her voice again.
"I just want to hear your name."
"I... it's... Eleanor." Her breath sharpened along with the grip on her chin.
"We both know that is not your name, do we not?" She dropped her head, ripping it against his talons of fingers, not crying out for the fact that her blood was weeping from the cuts, but because she couldn't even remember her name.

Those pale green eyes finally looked back up at him, showing her resignation. How many times had they played this game now? She would escape, and he would drag her back and feed her the tonic once again. She would forget everything and then she would try and escape, a cycle that just kept going on and on.
"Get some rest LeHirst." The girl's head dropped, resting against her left arm. Her last escape had certainly been interesting, and reaffirmed his belief that she had once been human, rather than the halfling she now was. She had managed to climb the walls, reaching the window and smashing it. He had already examined the wall outside, knowing that she had attempted to climb down. As a halfling her nails had been strong enough to rip into the stone, giving her the purchase she had needed.

Something had gone wrong though, she had slipped and fallen, managing to break both legs. From the height of the tower, if she had jumped and landed on both feet the worst that would have happened was a sprained ankle. As a halfling she was much stronger than any human, and far more resilient. It was the fall that had beaten her. Though it did not stop you, he mused. Despite the agony she must have been in, she had clawed her way through the mud.

Carefully he took her finger tips, rubbing his thumb over the smooth ends. They had been bloodied and dirtied, ragged and shattered when he had picked her up. It had taken quite some time for him to clean them up and file them back. They were far shorter than they should have been, but at least it meant she would not be clawing her way out of this room any time soon. Not that she could at the moment. His hand went to her leg, feeling the cold soft flesh. For one such as him, healing a cut or graze was a simple thing; mending bones was a different matter altogether. Still beneath her skin he could make out the bruises. Soon they would disappear, but the pain of the bones would remain. Even with a faster rate of healing than a human, he doubted she would be walking again soon.

He flicked his fingers, telling the two servants with the lights to leave. Only once the lights illuminated outside the door did he turn back, hand going back to her chin. He did not need the light to see where the blood was, he could smell it. Quickly he lapped it up, sealing the cut from where his sharp fingers had torn her skin. Pulling away he allowed for her head to drop again, and this time he brushed her brown hair from the side of her neck. A bite mark from long ago, probably from the one who had turned her into a halfling. Giving the place a quick kiss he stood up, licking at a fang as he left. Only once did he pause at the door, looking back at the girl. She certainly was an interesting one. How would she try to escape this time? It would liven things up if she tried to stab him through the heart again.

Description
Chains clanked as eyes shuddered open. The cold sent shivers through the air as well as her body. No sound came from behind her gagged lips, and only sung from the chiming links. Where she was also asked a question. This place, she had never seen it before in her life, and dearly wished that she would never see it again; but with every blink of those pale orbs the nightmare was only reaffirmed as reality.

Suspended somewhere above her head her wrists ached, frigid metal biting into them. This place, there was nowhere to hide from the cold. There was next to nothing in the room, nowhere to hide even if she did get free of those chains. Realistically the only place one could hide was behind the door when it opened, otherwise there wasn't even a corner to cower in. The circular room was capped off with a roof that had since been forgotten, the cloudy night sky barely visible through the gaping holes. In the light of day she guessed it would be more obvious, but the room right now was just as dark as the night, everything only visible as a dark shade of grey, though she was willing to bet her freedom that everything in this room was that colour anyway; well maybe everything apart from the straw. Though by the smell she didn't think it could be that good a colour. If the door was at twelve, and she at six, then the pile of straw rested at nine, though pile was a far too generous word for the poor scattering there was of it. This place though, still her mind refused to admit how she had come to be here.

It was hazy in her mind, what any of her life had been like before she had ended up in here. Surely there had been something, one was not just born on the cusp of adulthood into a room, chained to a wall? She knew this, and yet her memories were at a loss to how she had got here. Nothing in the room seemed to be offering any clues to how she had managed to make her way here. The ache in her body certainly resounded in her arms, but had no reason for being in her legs. The limbs felt like lead, was that purely from the cold? Had she been running? If so, where were her boots, she couldn't imagine running around with nothing on her feet; but then she couldn't imagine being outside in what she was wearing, especially given how cold the night was. Had her stuff been taken away when she entered this room? It would certainly make some sort of sense. Had she been trying to run here? No, that didn't make sense, why would she want to be in this situation. Had she run here to get out of the rain and then encountered this? That was a possibility. So where had she actually been heading, what sort of journey had she been on? As the door opened with a resounding bang she realised just how wrong she had been. She hadn't been running to get here, she'd been running to get away from that.

The icy gust that came with the open door made her try to curl up, grating her skin across the harsh stone, feet bleeding as her body dragged them back towards her. Only the sharp intake of breath allowed her to admit the pain. Footsteps crunched across the room, and somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered the sound of crunching glass. Her head shot up, trying to find where the window had been, but before she could look her head beat a hasty retreat, pain searing up her neck and into the base of her skull from the sudden movement. Water trickled from the corner of her eyes, a soft whimper coming from behind the gag.

The dark chuckle made her stop, the noise resounding through the room, echoing off of the bare walls before it escaped through the broken roof. She peered back up at him through dark tresses, eyes suddenly shying away as light was introduced. The cold hand took her chin, sharpened nails digging into her cheek. The other brushed aside her dark hair, giving a clearer view of her face. Eyes shuddered open, fighting the light, but in that moment she felt dread hit her, sinking to the bottom of her stomach and making her want to throw up.

Red eyes pierced into hers, making her gulp. They seemed to draw her in, making her lose all conscious of what was going on. He ... She blinked, momentarily breaking the spell and tearing her eyes away. Sweat dripped down her body, breaths struggling to heave because of the gag.
"Will you not look at me?" Her eyes were now scrunched shut, but her entire body seemed to shut down at his icy voice.

Something about his voice made her want to obey, but something deeper inside told her not to, perhaps it was survival. Peering through lashes she slowly looked back at him, eyes focusing on his lips. Thin pale lips, thinning further as they curled into a smile.
"Good girl." He knew she was looking, despite the fact that her eyes were barely open. Those words sent shivers down her spine. Despite how cold everything was, she could feel herself heating up; cheeks becoming red and not from the cold.

Slender fingers reached behind her head, undoing the gag, pulling it gently from her mouth.
"There now." She just couldn't stand that voice.
"Wh-"
"Shush now. I am the one to ask questions." Her wrists shook, the clanking no longer seeming so loud.
"Tell me." Tell him what? Had she missed the question? She could barely remember anything, so was there really something to tell?
"Your name."

Her pale eyes opened wide, downcast, as if trying to see what was through the floor; but they remained sightless. Her breath caught, somewhere between a yelp and a strangled sob. All of her body shook, only stopping as he once again took her chin. Water dripped from the corner of her eyes as he pulled her face back up to look at him, but those pale pools were still attached to the floor.
"I..." she stuttered, as if she were a mute who had discovered her voice again.
"I just want to hear your name."
"I... it's... Eleanor." Her breath sharpened along with the grip on her chin.
"We both know that is not your name, do we not?" She dropped her head, ripping it against his talons of fingers, not crying out for the fact that her blood was weeping from the cuts, but because she couldn't even remember her name.

Those pale green eyes finally looked back up at him, showing her resignation. How many times had they played this game now? She would escape, and he would drag her back and feed her the tonic once again. She would forget everything and then she would try and escape, a cycle that just kept going on and on.
"Get some rest LeHirst." The girl's head dropped, resting against her left arm. Her last escape had certainly been interesting, and reaffirmed his belief that she had once been human, rather than the halfling she now was. She had managed to climb the walls, reaching the window and smashing it. He had already examined the wall outside, knowing that she had attempted to climb down. As a halfling her nails had been strong enough to rip into the stone, giving her the purchase she had needed.

Something had gone wrong though, she had slipped and fallen, managing to break both legs. From the height of the tower, if she had jumped and landed on both feet the worst that would have happened was a sprained ankle. As a halfling she was much stronger than any human, and far more resilient. It was the fall that had beaten her. Though it did not stop you, he mused. Despite the agony she must have been in, she had clawed her way through the mud.

Carefully he took her finger tips, rubbing his thumb over the smooth ends. They had been bloodied and dirtied, ragged and shattered when he had picked her up. It had taken quite some time for him to clean them up and file them back. They were far shorter than they should have been, but at least it meant she would not be clawing her way out of this room any time soon. Not that she could at the moment. His hand went to her leg, feeling the cold soft flesh. For one such as him, healing a cut or graze was a simple thing; mending bones was a different matter altogether. Still beneath her skin he could make out the bruises. Soon they would disappear, but the pain of the bones would remain. Even with a faster rate of healing than a human, he doubted she would be walking again soon.

He flicked his fingers, telling the two servants with the lights to leave. Only once the lights illuminated outside the door did he turn back, hand going back to her chin. He did not need the light to see where the blood was, he could smell it. Quickly he lapped it up, sealing the cut from where his sharp fingers had torn her skin. Pulling away he allowed for her head to drop again, and this time he brushed her brown hair from the side of her neck. A bite mark from long ago, probably from the one who had turned her into a halfling. Giving the place a quick kiss he stood up, licking at a fang as he left. Only once did he pause at the door, looking back at the girl. She certainly was an interesting one. How would she try to escape this time? It would liven things up if she tried to stab him through the heart again.