Chasing Mirages by Russandol

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Truth

Eönwë is summoned by the king and learns the whole truth.

 


 

12. Truth

I lay, vacant and numb, too hurt to even think, for an untold length of time. Absently, I heard approaching steps, but did not even attempt to move. My battered body had reverted to the role of the loathed prison it had been during my first days of banishment. Soon, I would seek release. I did not care any more what Chakmóol, Síináan or their men did to me.

Someone crouched quietly at my side. I flinched when a hand pushed a strand of hair away from my face, a cruel, mocking kindness. I huddled my knees against my chest and hid my face against them, in a futile gesture to protect myself against a kick or a whip. I almost expected harsh fingers to close painfully over my arms and drag me up to resume my torment.

Instead, the hand squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, just like… I gasped, disbelieving.

‘Never is a long time, friend.’ A familiar silver voice spoke softly in my ear, soft breath caressed my skin; my heart almost stopped when the veil wrought to block his presence from me fell away and understanding hit me at last.

Clumsily, I sat up and turned my head to look at Mairon. His courtly garments were of dark blue silk, embroidered in silver thread; his hair was no longer matted with blood and dirt, but perfectly arrayed into ceremonial braids woven with jewelled beads. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, and a tentative smile hovered on his lips.

‘I had no choice but to prove to you the folly of promising eternal love, Eönwë. You understand why, do you not?'

A wave of pure rage rose up to my chest and throat, tightening them until I felt I would burst, unable to breathe.

I despised Mairon for the contemptible affection he showed now, for treating me like a clever pet that has performed the trick his master has taught him, but I despised myself even more for having been deceived so thoroughly. My face was ablaze, my whole hröa shook at the outrageous humiliation.

I staggered upright, refusing his solicitous help. As soon as I felt I would not fall down, I hit him squarely across the face.

We were both surprised by the force behind the blow. I raised my hand again but he took it firmly, without anger or violence. My knees buckled, and he lifted me in his arms as easily as if I were made of feathers. Despite the filth of several days of captivity, he embraced me closely. I tried to pull away, but I was no match for his strength. Instead, I turned my face away from his chest to mark my rejection. By the door stood Chakmóol, in perfect health, staring at me blankly. I realised with a shock that Mairon's perfidy must have demanded the ahaw's full consent and complicity. I shut my eyes, disgusted. 

I could have ranted at Mairon’s cruelty, at the way he had abused my trust and turned my vow of unrequited love into yet another lowly game of dominance, but I was overwhelmed by fierce sobs of betrayal, unable and unwilling to speak to my tormentor.

He took me home, riding double on his horse; he bathed me, cared for my sores, burns and cuts and had food and drink brought to me. I noticed that the signs of abuse on his face and hands were very faint; either they had faded very quickly or, most likely, he had never been truly hurt. It did not matter either way.

'I am so proud of you, my beautiful Maia,’ he murmured, while he loosely plaited my hair, finally free of grime and tangles.

In the past, those words alone would have justified anything he had inflicted on me. This time they did not. I turned away from him, biting my cracked lip to stifle a moan of pain and closing my eyes to keep tears within. He peppered the back of my neck with a myriad of tiny kisses, but I remained listless, for the first time unresponsive to his bribery.

Dark, manipulative, cruel. Oh, Eru, why could I not hate him?

 

~o~

 

Three days went by. At first, while I was too weak to rise from my bed, I refused to speak to Mairon when he came to tend my hurts. Later, I remained locked in my chambers, staring without seeing out of the windows, and asked the only servant I trusted, a young man from the city called Chéel[1], not to allow anyone in, not even the master of the house. After Mairon was turned away once, he left me to brood.

I had offered him all I had, yet he had never showed a desire to reciprocate my affection. I had wished to believe in his goodness, but he had shattered the trust I had placed in his keeping. I berated myself for having allowed him to turn me into his plaything, for ever believing that we could return to the bliss we shared before he was corrupted by Moringotto, when in reality he was not seeking redemption, but merely biding his time under a thin veneer of civility. I ceaselessly wallowed inside a maze of angry shame and censure at my colossal misjudgement, nay, stupidity.  

On the fourth day I received a summons from Chakmóol to attend a private audience. I loathed the mere idea of facing any of my tormentors, but I was bound to obey. Did he wish that I commenced my service to him so promptly? Twisted ploy or not, I had pledged my life in exchange for Mairon’s.

Chéel combed and plaited my hair into the braids of my rank. I did not stop him. In the mirror I watched him silently as he strove to make the arrangement tidy and perfectly symmetrical, with all the beads secured snugly in their places. I wondered how quickly the ahaw would remove them or ask me to do so. I wore my most ornate court robes, despite the way they chafed the skin of my back and shoulders, still tender.

Finally, Chéel placed around my neck the heavy pendant of a sun set with diamonds that the king had gifted me when he named me his counsellor. My servant could not know the new meaning this jewel had acquired in my eyes; again I said nothing.

When he stepped back to let me rise, I thanked him for his services and gave him a little purse with gold coins. He stuttered his gratitude.

‘You are coming back, in Yúum?’ he asked, genuinely concerned.

‘Maybe, Chéel,’ I answered. ‘Do not wait for me tonight. You have remained at my side while I was sick. Go and enjoy a rest, come back in the morning.’

Chéel held the door open for me. As I walked out, I shot a glance towards the stone archway that led to the open gallery over the main courtyard, beyond which lay Mairon’s apartments. Ruthlessly, I ignored the knot of despair in my gut at the possibility of never returning, squared my shoulders and descended the wide stone stairs towards the entrance.

Alone, as I had arrived long ago, I stepped out of the house. One of the stable hands was having trouble holding my stallion, arrayed in his richest tooled tack and embroidered saddle cloth. As if sensing my nervous mood, my good Sakeek’[2] paced, stamped and even began to rear, and it took me a while to calm him down after I took the reins from the relieved groom. The escort that Chakmóol had sent waited patiently, already mounted. Mercifully, his cousin Síináan was not at their head, and in their faces I did not recognise any of my gaolers.

When we arrived at the king’s house, I dismounted, patted Sakeek’s neck in farewell and sadly watched him be taken away, before I was surrounded on all sides by the soldiers, like a prisoner, and led inside the building into a small audience chamber. The ahaw barked an angry order and they all bowed and marched out of the room hurriedly. I prostrated myself at his feet, even if he did not expect Mairon or me to do so when in private.

‘Rise, Eönwë,’ he commanded impatiently. ‘Sit with me.’

I was surprised, but obeyed without a word.

‘I had to see you. I feared Yúum Síihbalóob might not…’

‘Kings do not need to explain their actions, Your Highness,’ I interrupted bitterly. ‘Least of all to their servants.’

‘I would have you listen to me, nevertheless,’ he retorted imperiously, scowling at my insolence.

I lowered my eyes under his regal glare, and waited silently. No words would make my servitude to him any easier to endure. 

‘When our master first commanded my assistance in his plan,’ he began, no longer haughtily, ‘I tried to refuse, worried that you would come to harm. He punished me severely for my disobedience and reminded me of my service to him. “This will prove the sincerity of your submission,” he said, “and assay Eönwë’s loyalty. Nothing I have planned lies beyond his bounds, you can dismiss your scruples.”’

‘Also… as part of the ploy, and for the sake of verisimilitude, he commanded me to have him questioned too, harshly enough to leave convincing marks on his body. He set strict limits to what means of torment my men and I were allowed to use on either of you; amongst other things, rape was absolutely banned. “I trust the minor details into your hands,” he ordered, ‘but whatever you choose to do, Eönwë and your men must not learn the truth until I reveal it at the very end. Do not disappoint me!”’

‘I should have called my word of release. But I craved to please him and make him proud,’ added Chakmóol, his earlier asperity vanished. ‘And I so much wanted to…” He bit his lip, but unspoken lust filled his eyes.

I was speechless. Mairon had woven a trap out of dominance and desire from which the ahaw could hardly escape. I immediately forgave the king for becoming an accomplice in my humiliation.

‘What of your cousin? His performance was most convincing. Or was he following orders?’ I demanded, chokingly. ‘And what of the other men?’

‘Síináan’s only flaws are his ambition and his blinding loyalty to me. He obeys my will without question, because he knows I will reward his faithful service generously,’ answered Chakmóol. ’I was the one who proposed his involvement to Yúum Síihbalóob, and the three of us planned his public disgrace over the mother-of-pearl tiles so as to make his later resentment plausible. In turn, Síináan chose his men most carefully and swore them to secrecy. Unlike him, they were led to believe that you were indeed suspected traitors, to guarantee their genuine behaviour and to prevent them from uncovering the truth while you were in their hands.’

The more details of the sordid conspiracy were revealed, the hotter my wrath became. I closed my eyes briefly, trembling with shame. The king put his hand on my shoulder in a gesture of affection and reassurance. He had done so in the past, to console me or lend me strength during Mairon’s demanding sessions. I was moved he was willing to do so now.

He looked at me expectantly. The god-king of Kiinlúum would never speak an apology, but his mien was the very picture of regret.

‘I know how persuasive he can be, Your Highness,’ I said sincerely. ‘My grievance is not with you.’

Chakmóol had been a mere pawn and played the role that our master had demanded of him. To convince him of my forgiveness, I took his hands in mine, unthinkable from a subject but most welcome in the past when we had suffered Mairon’s discipline. Gratitude and relief made him smile, but only briefly.

‘Did he do this to you as a punishment, Eönwë? He told me it was a trial, but of what?’ He seemed genuinely mystified.

‘Of his dominion, as ever!’ I snarled. ‘He wished to remind me of my place.’

Abruptly, I remembered the purpose of my summons. Gathering my strength, I knelt to Chakmóol and lowered my head.

‘I shed your blood; my life is yours in return. I have pledged to serve you in any way you wish. What is your will, my lord?’ I offered, hoping that my voice did not betray my distress.

‘You were never bound by a promise extracted by deception and duress; it was merely his token of victory!’ cried the king. Almost angrily, he pulled me up by the elbows until I stood next to him. ‘I release you from any obligation or vow, except for your allegiance and your duties in court, which I hope you still wish to retain, despite these events. Will you remain my counsellor?’

‘You are a generous lord, in Ahaw, to pardon my crime, whether contrived by our master or otherwise,’ I spoke slowly, moved by his impassionate words. ‘I believed freedom was lost to me; I yet have to decide what to do now.’

He reached out to gently trace his finger over the jagged line of scabs wrapped around my wrist.

‘I hope you are soon fully recovered, Eönwë. My healers are at your command.’

The physical torment had not actually ranked too high in comparison to Mairon’s most intense discipline, but had caused some damage, which Mairon had already treated so that it would fade with time.

‘I lack nothing, in Yúum, but I appreciate your offer.’ I dipped my head.

‘Anything you need, name it,’ he insisted.

I almost smiled at his earnest attempt to placate his unease, but I remembered something else, and my hands clenched into fists.

‘There is one thing I would know,’ I spoke, somewhat harshly. ‘Nikteháa. Did she…?’ I faltered.

‘No!’ exclaimed the king, shaking his head ruefully. ‘Unfortunately, she must have discovered something, and fought her way through my guard to find you. I have told her you are alive, and explained that it was all an error. I am not sure she believes me, and she is furious about the way I had you treated.’

I nodded, greatly relieved to learn she had remained true. One matter alone remained.

‘What did you do… to him?’ I desperately wished to know how far Mairon would go.

‘He was at my mercy, Eönwë,’ said Chakmóol, and a smile spread slowly upon his lips. ‘I walked into his cell, and saw him shackled, half naked and seemingly helpless. Hundreds of times I had dreamt of that moment, as I am sure you have, too. For once, I was the lord, and he was the slave. He seemed so vulnerable when he looked up to me, with a bleeding lip and hair spilling from its ties. I have never beheld anything more beautiful. He trembled, from cold, maybe. To soothe him, I touched his head, then his shoulder. He did not object, and I could not stop. His skin was my playground, to kiss, suck, caress, scratch, and bite. Ai, Eönwë, it was bliss to see him shiver under my fingers and my mouth, to be free at last to roam at will, to tease, to command our pleasure and make him beg for completion at the end.’

I was desperately aroused by the description of the scene, the centre of my most secret desires.

‘I wanted to take him so badly… but he has always respected my bounds, and I felt obliged to do the same for him. Besides, his submission was only a ruse, one of his games. I knew I would pay dearly if I disobeyed his rules. And yet… the temptation was almost unbearable when I ran my hands over his perfect buttocks and he shook under my touch...’ Chakmóol drew a deep breath. ‘Instead, I ordered him to… I used his mouth, and he licked his lips when it was done. Oh, gods!’

I felt breathless; I could picture Mairon vividly in front of my eyes. My loins were on fire, the need pulsing painfully under my heavy robes.

‘Once I was sated, I remembered his orders. I had him chained up high, stretched until only his toes touched the floor, and began to flog him, but I was too afraid of marring his perfection and fearful of his retaliation, too. I stopped and instead ordered two of Síináan’s men to question him roughly, so that he would look the part when you saw him. ”Warm him up a little, let the lash loosen up his tongue, nothing else! Then take him to your captain. He knows what must be done,” I commanded. I watched from the next room, through a small grate,’ he confessed.

‘He stood very still, staring at the wall and breathing slowly while the blows fell; he never uttered a sound, as if he did not feel pain. After a while, the men got frustrated and swapped to a whip with small steel pieces knotted in its tails. It broke his skin in many places but he did not react at all either. I should have stopped them, I was sickened at the sight of his blood but fascinated by his endurance. A red-hot dagger made him flinch, but that was all. They threatened him with the rack, but he did not deign to speak a word.

‘”Is this rat alive?” spat one of the men. “He seems to have fallen asleep.” In truth, it looked as if he were absent from his body. The second man sneered. “I’ll wake him up,” he replied. “When my sword enters his sheath, he will come alive again, you’ll see.” Before I had time to act, the soldier had undone his trousers, and placed his hand on Mairon’s backside, groping between his cheeks. At that time, a deep thunder like a pounding drum shook the dungeon.’

I finally understood what I had felt while alone in my prison. The ósanwë pulse of fear and rage that had preceded the tremor had been unmistakeably genuine; now I knew why.

‘The men covered their ears with their hands, as did I, because the sound of Yúum Síihbalóob’s wail was like that of screeching metal that sets one’s teeth on edge.’

I almost smiled. The Eldar of Aman had compared our language to the glitter of swords; indeed, it was never harmonious to the ears of the Children.

‘The chains holding him captive snapped and then crumbled to dust, and the man that had threatened him was struck dead at a slight touch on his brow. His companion fell to his knees, whimpering gibberish. Yúum Síihbalóob picked up a cloak hanging from a peg by the door, wrapped it around him and strode out. He called for me, and said he would return the following day, to continue as planned. That is when we took him to you, before you were questioned. He watched you, you know, he observed your every move, and often it was his hand you felt. For five days, until you were overcome by thirst and he decided it was time to end it.’

Chakmóol spread his hands to me, palms up in apology. The undisguised pity in his eyes only served to stoke my shame at the degradation Mairon had inflicted upon me, and a fresh surge of indignation swept me. Once I regained my calm, I thanked the king for his honesty, bowed deeply to him and began to back away to leave the room, but he called me.

‘Be wary, Eönwë! He used your love for him to torment you. Do not hit back out of spite now, or you will both suffer.’

‘Hit back? He has no weakness,’ I replied bitterly.

‘Oh, but he does! Can you not see?’ Chakmóol looked me in the eye and smiled, like a teacher encouraging a struggling pupil to answer an easy question. I stared back at him, puzzled and angry, hardly in the mood for riddles. When I shook my head in mute defeat, he frowned. ‘Your wisdom is clearly lacking in this matter, Counsellor. You are his weakness. If I were his enemy, I would now have the means to place him at my mercy.’

I walked home slowly, ignoring greetings from people who kindly hailed me on the street to wish me a good day, while I considered Chakmóol’s parting words, and everything else he had revealed to me.

When I entered Mairon’s home, I would have slain him for real this time, had he crossed my path.

 


[1] chéel (Yucatec) rainbow

[2] sakeek’ (Yucatec) white star (from sak = white, eek’ = star)


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