Thoughts on story - and it probably sucks ass
So I was sitting there at work today listening to the LOTR soundtracks and letting my mind wander whilst doing my mindless chores and managing machines..... this will probably go nowhere, but I'm ok with that. I just need to hash out some ideas and see where they go. I'd love to do a webcomic one day, but I'm too scared to put my ideas out there (or my art for that matter). I suppose lets see where this one goes. I've had ideas before, but they've never done anything cause they always seem so cliche. Not that I really believe this one will seem any different once I get it out, but lets assume that its a LOTR fanfiction of sorts as my sexy elf man-meat is most definitely a Legolas clone.
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Sindari was a linguist. At least she wished she were. She studied every language she get the teachers to admit they knew, and occasionally a trader would entertain her by giving her a few words or phrases in their native tongue. The young girl could speak all five of the common tongues of Arda, as well as two separate Elven dialects fluently. Recently she had found a book on the ancient language of the stonecutters, a race long disappeared from her world, and spent her time learning the dead words.
Unfortunately, she was also a noble child that had very little control over her time. Sindari was born three decades past to the matriarch of one of the most powerful clans of the desert elves. The Suatha were led by their mothers and daughters, with men cast as laborers, warriors, and consorts. Very rarely did they rise through the ranks of the ruling class to be advisors or leaders. Her mother had charged her with following in her footsteps when she had taken her first breath, wet from her nurturing womb. She was catered to by the slaves her family kept, but worked mercilessly by her tutors. Language was never included in her daily studies. As her family's talent was manipulating the arcane, so was her duty to master the stars, and the ether. A mere girl in the eyes of her people charged to bend the intangible to her will for the benifit of her blood.
Traders unfamiliar with the Suatha did not see a child. Sindari stood but a few inches taller that the human slaves used to guard the marketplace. Her hair fell in waves long past her waist in rivers of silver over her lithe form. But while she was woman to them in some ways, her boyish figure gave her away as one who had not undergone the Suathan coming of age rituals and teachings. Newcomers to the city were escorted by diplomats to prevent confusion and desecration of the city's young women.
Sindari looked out the crystal window of her bedroom. Normally she would be across the city plagued with studies, but today was special. Today was Eressea's birthday, and the two best friends were given the day together. New caravans had come into the city late last night, and the girls were eager to see what wares the merchants had brought to the oasis. Sindari finally saw her friend in the courtyard and hurried down the stairs to greet her.
"You're late Eressea!" she exclaimed with a smile, embracing her dear friend.
"A girl has to look good on her birthday," she replied, then added, "my mother saw to that." Indeed the other elven girl did look radiant in her turquoise attire. Her dusky cheeks had been rubbed with shimmerstone, and her lips painted with berry juice.
Sindari sighed. "She'll never learn will she? You are best friends with a child of war, I'll be suprised if your hair doesn't get mussed!" The girls laughed.
"Shall we then? I really love that color on you by the by."
Not wanting to outshine her friend, Sindari had chosen a simpler outfit of white that made her darker complexion appear silky and liquid. As was custom in the city, they did not wear shoes, and left the courtyard arm-in-arm.
Whilst meandering through the marketplace. the girls heard a loud crash and many raised voices from the direction of the slavers ring. They jostled their way over and Sindari drew in a sharp breath. She had only ever heard stories of the pale northern elves.
"Eressea," she breathed. "Do you think-"
The other girl stood agape at the pale figure being led to the ring. "I've never..." was all she could manage. All around the crowd jostled to get a better look at the freakishly light skinned figure being roughly handled by the Turg traders. He was all but naked in a bloody and torn cotton tunic with his slender hands bound cruelly up behind his back. His hair had been carelessly shorn, and there were patches of blood and hair still remaining on his scalp. The creamy skin of his shoulders looked painfully red and angry from desert sun. The trader yanked him along by the chain round his neck not caring that his charge was weak and stumbling.
Finally the pair made it to the ring, and the elf was tied securely to the post in the center. He stared defiantly into the eyes of the crowd. Around her, Sindari heard people murmuring. "He'll be trouble, that one." "Cut out his eyes that he dares look into ours." "He'll get naught for that one he's a risk." And slowly, the crowd began to go its separate ways. The Suatha were not gawkers, and the trader saw that he was doomed.
"What for 'im? Thirty scale, eh? What for?" He was answered by a courus of jeers and laughter from the remaining desert elves.
"Fair winds to ye on that one Turg. Find another town to sell that wolvin (assassin) to." The remaining elves left until only three remained, Sindari, Eressea, and a high noble from the second family. The trader fumed.
"I'll give you 5 scale for him, trader. I'll break his spirit." The Turg spat.
"I'll not budge for the trouble we went through for his hide. Lost men in that raid, that one."
"You're a fool then. Wind to you back." the woman hissed. SIndari recognized her then. She known for being rediculously cruel to her slaves, beating them for her own sick pleasure, and torturing them at a whim.
"Ten scale and he's yours wench."
"Eight, as you insult me. Take it and your foul smelling beasts and get out. You will be gone by sunrise."
"Aye, coin afore chain." This was an ancient phrase used to seal the fate of the ring slaves. No one knew when it started, but every sale in memory had been closed with it. The woman tossed a small purse at the man, he jostled it around, feeling its weight. Satisfied he left, leaving the northern elf tethered to the post in the ring.
Eressea tugged on Sindari's sleeve, "We can go now? There's are some really beautiful new fabrics-" she stopped seeing her friend not listening. "Sin?"
"Did you see his eyes? They looked right through me. They're beautiful..." she trailed off.
"Sin, you and I swore we would never own another person. Just because our queen's populate our houses with them....he's bought already. Sindari!" she shook her. But Sin's attention was on the noble woman. She was pulling a cruel looking whip out of her robe, and making her way down into the ring.
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Sleeeeeep. I know its rough.