Vaande!
10-20-2007, 09:04 AM
((This story takes place in the past, within the confines of Vaande's mind. Some strong language and suggestive themes, it certainly isn't for everyone. More to come later.))
The streets of silvermoon were warm that day. It was a hot day, and the heat lingered on the stone streets of the bazaar. Vaande could only sigh as he saw the sun retreat down past the tips of the spires on the horizon. He wished he could reverse it's direction. Vaande didn't like the night. At least, not there, in Silvermoon.
The bad people came out at night. The addicts, whores, and deviants. Vaande didn't like what the city became at night, however hypocritical it was, because he was a part of the filth he hated. He tightened his leathers slightly as he prepared for the night crowd to sweep through. If he kept quiet and to his corner, there would be no incident. He could just have a nice quiet night.
Vaande began to hum to himself, bringing his knees to his chest. It's what he usually did, as long as he didn't make too much noise. Noise would get him noticed. HIs mind wandered over how he came to be in such a position. How he came to be a man with a less than honerable profession. He didn't like that story almost as much as he didn't like the night crowd, but perhaps a little more.
To the family he was worthless. A mistake. The one who should have died when he was born. Yet, for some sick reason, maybe just to spite them, refused to die off. Yet, it made him alone. The family, even his mother and other siblings constantly hurt and scolded him. Sometimes for no reason, just for slouching, or looking at them, or breathing loudly. Vaande was lucky to have at least the servants there to care for him.
Domdrid and his quiet wife. Domdrid protected him, and his wife kept him sustained. She never said a word about it. Or about anything, for that matter. She probably embraced the plague without a word as if it was normal as a sunset in the evening. They were the closest family he had, and even they were punished if caught helping the poor elven boy.
It was all he could do to run away. He didn't take anything with him beyond the clothes on his back, but he knew that whatever awaited him out in the city would be far better than being slowly killed in the family's care. A few years later, he questioned at that thought whiles sitting in a dark nook of the bazaar.
He wagered that it was more dificult then, but the deeds didn't stay on his mind. THen, it was just survival. The same as the lynxes hunting or rats scrounging for scraps.
The thought of selling himself was new then. He was hoping to get a real occupation, yet didn't want to run the risk of his name going back to the family. He never wanted to go back to that. It was hard for him to remember how it started. He must have been sitting on that very street. The women glanced at him in his rags and let their mouths bend into twisted smiles as they called to him to follow.
He obeyed, and let them have their fill. He was getting attention. Someone wanted him. They held and kissed like he secretly wanted. And after the deeds were done, he was paid.
"You there. In the corner."
A blood elf woman in lavish robes called out to him with lavish robes. She patted her coin purse and grinned.
He stood up slowly and cursed in the back of his mind. But, that was the job, and that was what he must do. Obey.
It was hard for him to resume the internal conversation he was having with himself before, but somewhere between the woman giving him a light kiss and winking at him, and her leading him up the staircase of one of the spires he remembered. He thought about it again. About what she wanted, and what she was going to do, then again to his job.
He could lie to himself that he loved his job. He could say it for the stupid fact that he was a man and What man doesn't want to go to bed with a different woman every night? But that wasn't the case for him, he thought. He was fond, but not in love with the line of work. He always had someone near. It allowed him to never be alone, at least until the morning came. He dreaded the mornings.
In the mornings, it always seemed to him like the feelings changed from things so good to things so bad. From illusions of love and desire, they quickly changed to hatred and distaste. He never understood why, either. He probably never would, but it caused him to have a certain loathing for his job. The one thing he didn't like.
"Mmm..I'll be seeing more of you.."
The woman whispered into his ear. It shattered his thoughts. He was so deep in thought he had no idea the deeds had already been done. He could only nod helplessly.
"What is your name again, darling?"
"Vaande.."
"Hrmm.. Very well. I am Jess. But you'll have no need for that name, will you?"
He looked up at her with questioning eyes. She dropped a large bag of gold down onto the floor by him. She seemed to giggle as she exited quickly. His heart sank as he watched her form retreat, but he couldn't have her like he wanted. He couldn't have anyone. He was doomed to that lonliness, such as was his job.
The streets of silvermoon were warm that day. It was a hot day, and the heat lingered on the stone streets of the bazaar. Vaande could only sigh as he saw the sun retreat down past the tips of the spires on the horizon. He wished he could reverse it's direction. Vaande didn't like the night. At least, not there, in Silvermoon.
The bad people came out at night. The addicts, whores, and deviants. Vaande didn't like what the city became at night, however hypocritical it was, because he was a part of the filth he hated. He tightened his leathers slightly as he prepared for the night crowd to sweep through. If he kept quiet and to his corner, there would be no incident. He could just have a nice quiet night.
Vaande began to hum to himself, bringing his knees to his chest. It's what he usually did, as long as he didn't make too much noise. Noise would get him noticed. HIs mind wandered over how he came to be in such a position. How he came to be a man with a less than honerable profession. He didn't like that story almost as much as he didn't like the night crowd, but perhaps a little more.
To the family he was worthless. A mistake. The one who should have died when he was born. Yet, for some sick reason, maybe just to spite them, refused to die off. Yet, it made him alone. The family, even his mother and other siblings constantly hurt and scolded him. Sometimes for no reason, just for slouching, or looking at them, or breathing loudly. Vaande was lucky to have at least the servants there to care for him.
Domdrid and his quiet wife. Domdrid protected him, and his wife kept him sustained. She never said a word about it. Or about anything, for that matter. She probably embraced the plague without a word as if it was normal as a sunset in the evening. They were the closest family he had, and even they were punished if caught helping the poor elven boy.
It was all he could do to run away. He didn't take anything with him beyond the clothes on his back, but he knew that whatever awaited him out in the city would be far better than being slowly killed in the family's care. A few years later, he questioned at that thought whiles sitting in a dark nook of the bazaar.
He wagered that it was more dificult then, but the deeds didn't stay on his mind. THen, it was just survival. The same as the lynxes hunting or rats scrounging for scraps.
The thought of selling himself was new then. He was hoping to get a real occupation, yet didn't want to run the risk of his name going back to the family. He never wanted to go back to that. It was hard for him to remember how it started. He must have been sitting on that very street. The women glanced at him in his rags and let their mouths bend into twisted smiles as they called to him to follow.
He obeyed, and let them have their fill. He was getting attention. Someone wanted him. They held and kissed like he secretly wanted. And after the deeds were done, he was paid.
"You there. In the corner."
A blood elf woman in lavish robes called out to him with lavish robes. She patted her coin purse and grinned.
He stood up slowly and cursed in the back of his mind. But, that was the job, and that was what he must do. Obey.
It was hard for him to resume the internal conversation he was having with himself before, but somewhere between the woman giving him a light kiss and winking at him, and her leading him up the staircase of one of the spires he remembered. He thought about it again. About what she wanted, and what she was going to do, then again to his job.
He could lie to himself that he loved his job. He could say it for the stupid fact that he was a man and What man doesn't want to go to bed with a different woman every night? But that wasn't the case for him, he thought. He was fond, but not in love with the line of work. He always had someone near. It allowed him to never be alone, at least until the morning came. He dreaded the mornings.
In the mornings, it always seemed to him like the feelings changed from things so good to things so bad. From illusions of love and desire, they quickly changed to hatred and distaste. He never understood why, either. He probably never would, but it caused him to have a certain loathing for his job. The one thing he didn't like.
"Mmm..I'll be seeing more of you.."
The woman whispered into his ear. It shattered his thoughts. He was so deep in thought he had no idea the deeds had already been done. He could only nod helplessly.
"What is your name again, darling?"
"Vaande.."
"Hrmm.. Very well. I am Jess. But you'll have no need for that name, will you?"
He looked up at her with questioning eyes. She dropped a large bag of gold down onto the floor by him. She seemed to giggle as she exited quickly. His heart sank as he watched her form retreat, but he couldn't have her like he wanted. He couldn't have anyone. He was doomed to that lonliness, such as was his job.