A Rogue and Music
(( soundtrack!
Jig: The Reel, Secret Garden
Lullaby: Romantic Flight, How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack ))
Senkha sat because she had no other choice. Arcane and fel magic cocooned her, preventing her arms or legs from moving in any way, and straps of some other energy held her tightly to the throne her captor had fetched for her. Only her head remained outside of bonds, and that was throbbing painfully, constantly. She knew she was near the presence of an Old God. She knew it was badly affecting her mind. She knew there was little hope for her here.
They didn't force her to endure the torment all night, her captors. After they'd forced their way into her mind and destroyed her right leg, they left her alone, guarded only by three oversized wasps. Senkha was in a daze by the time they left, her mind playing house to all manner of presences: her own, her husband's, Marius', the Apophan's. As the night wore on, those presences faded some. Marius slept, as he tended to, as did the Apophan. It was only her and Oliver left.
She tried, first, to concentrate on mending her leg--the electricity the monstrous Tauren had forced through her body had welded the wounds shut, but the bones were badly twisted and Senkha feared losing use of the leg altogether. It was little use; her mind and body were exhausted, and mending took more out of her than she cared to allow at this point. After several failed attempts, she let her gaze fall to her three guards. They buzzed, hummed, and chittered, and after listening for a while, it was starting to sound like literal music to Senkha's tired ears.
Without realizing she was doing it, she reached out her mind towards theirs. Bugs had simple minds, not like humans. They sought to serve only, and it usually didn't matter who they were trying to serve. Just someone to be a queen, to lead the nest, to send out orders. On a less taxing day, Senkha may have been able to use this to her advantage, ordering them to cut through her bonds and carry her to freedom, but she was just too tired, and she didn't doubt that such activity would arouse the attention of her captors.
Instead, her mind drifted to the music. She was getting a strange sense from Oliver, and after a while, she recognized that he was feeding her some of his memories, the ones he knew she drew strength from. One of them dancing in Moonglade caught Senkha's attention especially; she'd never known before that very moment that they'd been dancing to an old Lordaeronian folk jig.
Still without thinking, she let the jig take most of her mind. It was cheerful and reminded her of simpler times, when her only worry was whether or not the dead man beside her thought she looked pretty in a new dress. And then she realized--the longer she thought of the jig, the more she heard it. She glanced up; the three wasps had begun to buzz, hum, and chitter the jig and were even performing a sort of reel around her chair.
All as she'd commanded them to without realizing it.
Despite her situation, despite her fear, Senkha couldn't help but smile to see the ridiculous display. It calmed her, relaxed her, and her mind drifted to a lullaby she'd known a long time. The bugs hummed this, too, as she drifted off into a forcibly dreamless sleep.
Jig: The Reel, Secret Garden
Lullaby: Romantic Flight, How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack ))
Senkha sat because she had no other choice. Arcane and fel magic cocooned her, preventing her arms or legs from moving in any way, and straps of some other energy held her tightly to the throne her captor had fetched for her. Only her head remained outside of bonds, and that was throbbing painfully, constantly. She knew she was near the presence of an Old God. She knew it was badly affecting her mind. She knew there was little hope for her here.
They didn't force her to endure the torment all night, her captors. After they'd forced their way into her mind and destroyed her right leg, they left her alone, guarded only by three oversized wasps. Senkha was in a daze by the time they left, her mind playing house to all manner of presences: her own, her husband's, Marius', the Apophan's. As the night wore on, those presences faded some. Marius slept, as he tended to, as did the Apophan. It was only her and Oliver left.
She tried, first, to concentrate on mending her leg--the electricity the monstrous Tauren had forced through her body had welded the wounds shut, but the bones were badly twisted and Senkha feared losing use of the leg altogether. It was little use; her mind and body were exhausted, and mending took more out of her than she cared to allow at this point. After several failed attempts, she let her gaze fall to her three guards. They buzzed, hummed, and chittered, and after listening for a while, it was starting to sound like literal music to Senkha's tired ears.
Without realizing she was doing it, she reached out her mind towards theirs. Bugs had simple minds, not like humans. They sought to serve only, and it usually didn't matter who they were trying to serve. Just someone to be a queen, to lead the nest, to send out orders. On a less taxing day, Senkha may have been able to use this to her advantage, ordering them to cut through her bonds and carry her to freedom, but she was just too tired, and she didn't doubt that such activity would arouse the attention of her captors.
Instead, her mind drifted to the music. She was getting a strange sense from Oliver, and after a while, she recognized that he was feeding her some of his memories, the ones he knew she drew strength from. One of them dancing in Moonglade caught Senkha's attention especially; she'd never known before that very moment that they'd been dancing to an old Lordaeronian folk jig.
Still without thinking, she let the jig take most of her mind. It was cheerful and reminded her of simpler times, when her only worry was whether or not the dead man beside her thought she looked pretty in a new dress. And then she realized--the longer she thought of the jig, the more she heard it. She glanced up; the three wasps had begun to buzz, hum, and chitter the jig and were even performing a sort of reel around her chair.
All as she'd commanded them to without realizing it.
Despite her situation, despite her fear, Senkha couldn't help but smile to see the ridiculous display. It calmed her, relaxed her, and her mind drifted to a lullaby she'd known a long time. The bugs hummed this, too, as she drifted off into a forcibly dreamless sleep.