Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Little Slave Girl ❯ Premonitions of Dread ( Chapter 7 )

The ship was quite large as was befitting a vessel of the royal house. As was befitting a ship carrying one of the royal house. Disk-shaped with four other disk-shaped levels one upon the other, it's numerous lighted windows of various shapes and sizes over the mass of the craft sparkled like stars in their own right as it sped gracefully through blackness of space towards it destination.

Queen Palena sat at her desk, the gown she wore fell to her ankles in soft waves, slit at her side to reveal her shapely, slightly tanned right leg, the bodice tight and low-cut to show off her womanly curves and considerable bosom which had caught it's share of glances as a young girl and even now, well into her fourties, Palena wasn't immune to a man's eye.

She held a photo of her only child in her hands, gazing with dark sapphire eyes at the frowning child within the picture in the frame. Even as a little one, Yarrah rarely found it necessary to show any sort of emotion other than anger and, not often, grudging satisfaction. A lock of shocking white hair fell over the child's face, nearly hiding eyes the same hue as her mother's.

Palena reached up to secure her own pale white hair, a color she was born with, not one she had gained upon her age, behind the royal tiara she wore whenever she was away from the palace for any length of time and while away from her formal throne. She only wore the heavy, jewel-encrusted crown at formal events, while greeting guests to her planet or acting as ambassador for her world.

She sighed and really wished that they had not taken part in the little vacation the king, her husband, had dragged herself and most of the royal staff, including her taciturn little daughter and her newly acquired elven slave, on a few months before. She really did not wish to be traveling back to that horrid little planet with it's primitive creatures and terribly unpredictable weather!

She placed the photo back upon the corner of her desk and turned in her swivel chair to face the small girl seated crossed-legged upon the bed before her. The sheer massiveness of the bed, with it's tall posters and sweeping canopy and overstuffed pillows of satin and silk, served to make her daughter look even smaller than she actually was.

Princess Yarrah lifted her gaze until her eyes locked onto her mother's. She had her hands clasped together in her lap, the long crimson dress she wore was as high-necked as her mother's gown was low, with severe clasps going all the way to her chin, the hem reaching her ankles and the sleeves, unlike her mother's sleeveless royal dress, covered her arms clear to her small hands and most of her fingers. Queen Palena tried to get her to dress a little more becoming to her looks and color, but was met with stern resistance.

Instead of the normal disquieting stillness she normally encountered when looking her daughter in the face, Palena nearly started in shock to see the look of fury roiling just under the surface in her child's hard glare. For one who had only seen thirteen summers, the princess could look the part of someone much older. Palena wondered, not for the first time, if she were to take her to a reader on a lark if the mystic might not tell her this was not Yarrah's first lifetime...Not that she would all that surprised if it weren't!

"We must go back, Mother," She said now, her voice soft and high-pitched as one would expect a child's to be, "She must be made to pay for what she did to me!"

Palena nodded, understanding. One's personal slave was a reflection upon oneself. As a princess and daughter of the royal house, Yarrah had an obligation to have the best-trained personal slave as could be found. That the little elven child they had hand-picked from market would have disobeyed so outwardly, and then had the audacity to flee from her punishment was a slight directly upon their regal names!

The Queen knew they had to go back to fetch the girl. Even if she'd rather not, it was the principle of the matter. Her daughter caught her look and pursed her thin lips until they seemed to disappear altogether within her small face. She did not move from her spot but her eyes danced within their sockets at the thought of dealing out her own brand of punishment to her wayward little servant.

~*~*~

Ryven watched the dark-haired elf as she helped Chi Chi hang a load of laundry out on a line to dry outside. She hovered in the air, her hair messed from training, as well as being more than a bit bruised and worn out. Not that she was complaining. She was one who had learned, however difficult such lessons had been, to her lumps as well as the next warrior. Her pointed ears picked up the tail-end of the conversation as she lowered herself to the ground.

Training had gone less than smooth this morning and afternoon. Her mind could not seem to stay on task and Piccolo found himself reprimanding her far to many times, making her feel like a childlike novice once more, and finally he ended it by declaring, wiping sweat from his brow; "It's no use to train if you can't keep your mind what your doing. We're just wasting time."

"I'm sorry, Sensei." Ryven had said and bowed, panting, mentally kicking herself. Why couldn't she keep her mind from straying? The truth of the matter was, she was worried about Rowyn and more than a little curious as to where, exactly, she had come from since she had never actually revealed much about herself to anyone yet. She assumed it was just because she was still so overcome with not-so-distant memories of recent abuse. She did not wish to rush the girl and perhaps cause further damage...but she was still curious...

"Oh, Ryven, dear!" Chi Chi looked up, spotting the girl right before she'd touched the ground with her feet, "You look a mess! Don't tell me Piccolo let you leave without at least attempting to clean you up?"

Ryven narrowed her eyes, not liking the woman's word or her tone of voice all that much. The fact of the matter was, her mind had been too far from her body to even think about washing up and straightening her hair. She combed it down with her hands clumsily a bit Chi Chi's words however but did little to alter her appearance. Rowyn looked up, holding one of Goten's shirts in her hands, about to secure it to the line along with a row of similar shirts and other articles of clothing one much like the others.

"Ryven-san!" She smiled, and lowered her lashes over her eyes, still finding it difficult to meet the other elf's gaze, "I am happy you've decided you come visit."

"How are you getting along here?" Ryven asked, walking up to Rowyn and taking the damp shirt from her slackened grasp she pinned it to the line herself, reaching into the basket for another piece of clothing, Rowyn smiled at her and quickly followed suit, "Work goes by much faster when there's more than one pair of hands at work," Ryven said, noticing Chi Chi had wandered back into the house to get dinner ready for her ever-hungry brood, "Especially when those hands belong to friends who can talk while they work."

Rowyn grew quiet at Ryven's words, her eyes and hands on her task. She had not meant to clam up so, it was only...She sighed and tried to think of something to say...she could not stop thinking of pale-haired older elf girl as anything other than her Master. No matter how Ryven tried to speak with her to gain her trust and make her more at ease. Speaking openly to one's master would only serve to temp fate to do it's worse.

"It's okay, Rowyn-chan," Ryven said, using the prefix at the end of her name to indicate that she thought of the girl as a friend, she knew that Rowyn still had trouble thinking of one she considered higher than herself as friend and she wished she could change the way the other girl thought of her and truely someone she could call a friend. She had the feeling the girl had had precious little in the experience of friends so far in her short life, "Whatever you tell me, will remain between the two of us. Friends trust each other..."

Rowyn looked over at her, meeting her eyes for the first time since she'd first meet her, and smiled slowly. She longed to have someone around her own age to speak with, someone of her own gender and race as well...there were very few elves kept as slaves after she'd been captured and sold to market. She had half-hoped, upon being sold into the royal family of some obscure world, that she wouldn't be the only elf amongst the household servants.

Ryven did not fail to see the fear as it flickered across her features, fear that seemed less as the time wore on, but never gone entirely from the girl's dark eyes. She reached between the laundry basket to grasp Rowyn's small, cold hand in her own, forcing her to look into her eyes; "Whatever it is," She said slowly, meaningfully, "You can trust me...You don't need to be afraid while there are people who can protect you...tell me...?"

"I...I..." Rowyn started, looking away at the fading sun's light. Looking towards the twilight skies, smeared hues of red, blue and orange crossed the sky, looking much like the result of a lazy painter who had fallen drunk at his work and smudged the colors of his paints together without a care as to how it would look to surveyors of his work, she waited for Rowyn to gather herself together.

To Ryven, the sunset was always awe-inspiring. As a very small child she used to wonder if she Piccolo carried far enough if she could actually walk among the colors and have them bleed into her own flesh and clothing, making her rainbow-hued. She'd never told anyone, least of all Piccolo, her little fantasy for fear of being laughed at and called silly.

"I'm afraid," Rowyn finally said, and Ryven turned back to her, eyebrows raised, "that she will come back for me..."

"Who?" Ryven started, then paused, and answered her own half-begun query, "Ah, the one who kept you as a servant...Don't worry! If she tried to come for you, she will have to answer to everyone here!"

Rowyn's dark brown eyes grew large as she shook her head, unable to speak but her mouth moving frantically. She dropped Ryven's hand and backed away, shaking her head hurriedly. Finally, she was able to speak. Practically crying, her voice hardly above a horse whisper, Rowyn pleaded; "No, Ryven-san! Please! I couldn't bear it if..."

Before she could finish her sentence, she choked on her words and sobbed, turned and fled from the yard, slamming the door to the house behind her and leaving Ryven to look after her with a shocked expression on her face. The echo of the words she had been about to utter lingered like a moth flapping at the corners of Rowyn's mind as she sought sanctuary within the small bedroom Chi Chi had allowed her to keep.

...If...if...She came for you as well...

~*~*~

"How much longer, Captain Belcourt?" Palena asked as she stood upon the bridge, glancing about at the crew working steadily around her. The evening crew had just gone to retire for the day and this group was as wide-eyed and bushy-tailed as long-tailed Reapcat, going about thier work with the ease and energy of the well-rested.

Captian Eelian Belcourt had stood upon her arrival into the upper bridge, as had the rest of his crew, but at a wave of her hand they had been dismissed to go about their business of flying the vessel and now, only the captain remained on his feet. He was a sturdy-looking man, with ruddy skin and a pot-belly due to a fondness for fast women and strong hooch during his off-hours, with a slightly balding head of dark gray hair and dull slate-metal gray eyes.

He was dressed in the teal and crimson colors that marked him an officer under the employ of the royal house, the bars upon his shoulders showing his rank and various metals of honor he had attained over his course of years within the space corps for all to see. He stuck out his chest in pride whenever anyone noticed them, and he always found a way to point them out if anyone failed to do so.

The queen found very little about the pompous little man she found redeeming. But, she knew, he was best one to captain this ship than they could ever hope to find. For some reason unbeknown to her or the rest of her family, he had a way of making the crew not only obey him, but actually enjoy working under him! It was a mystery that Palena had no interest in solving.

"About a week...maybe two," He answered, his voice always annoyingly nasally, "We will navigate the ship in the space about the planet and use the shuttle crafts to send an away team to the planet's surface to locate the quarry. After we have secured the quarry within the shuttle, we will begin preparations..."

"To leave the place, yes I get the picture, Belcourt." She snapped, her heels clicking on the surface as she walked across the floor of the bridge, pausing to look back once before letting herself out of the room, "My daughter grows impatient, Captain. It's not wise to keep her in her current state..."

Eelian Belcourt swallowed visably, he, as with most people affiliated with the Royal House of Redshale, had heard of Princess Yarrah's single-minded heartlessness when dealing with those who displeased her. She had never missed even one execution since she learned to walk and talk upon her own. There were even rumor, though Belcourt had tried never to dwell on gossip, that she was even known to smile on occasion at such events.

He knew that Princess Yarrah was a very cruel and very unhappy little girl, he always thought, secretly, that she was also a very spoiled little girl who would do well from a swift paddle across her backside. However, he had no desire to meet the hooded eyes of the executioner nor his blood-stained axe anytime in this life!

~*~*~

Rowyn closed her eyes tight as she sat upon the bed, her legs pulled under her chin and her head buried into her folded arms. She could stop the sensation that the peaceful little place she had found for herself here among people who seemed to honesty have her welfare in heart, was soon to be torn asunder. She shivered in place as her eyes seemed drawn of their own accord towards the star filled night sky outside her window.

She gasped, biting back a sob. Deep within her heart of hearts, she knew. She hadn't been forgotten, forsaken...as she had thought...hoped...wished.

She had not forgotten.

"She's coming for me..." Rowyn whispered to herself, uable to move from the dread she felt creeping into her limbs, rendering her nearly paralyzed.

I pray that I am the only one she sees fit to take...