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Characters (c) Rharwen

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Chapter One

The Party

Written By: Rharwen Rowin

A slender black mitt slid down the banister, flowing dress of deep blue caressed the form of Lady Elden. Eyes turned to watch the mistress descend the marbled steps, Lord Quincy, faithless in all respects, at her side. Her eyes glittered in the bright light of the chandelier, malicious grin coming across her muzzle, "My friends, Welcome to our celebration of the year!" Her voice carried across the large ballroom, furres clapped gently after her words, "We are finally ready to take our Rharwen to the pens. Soon she will join us, and others in the trade. Our congratulations."

The applause came louder and behind a large curtain at the top of the stairs, a child was trembling with excitement. At her heel were two canids. A fox, fur white like snow, with simmering blue eyes; the other a large black wolf, talons sharpened to bring down any who may disturb its mistress. As the clapping ceased the child tightened her grip on beasts' leads. She stepped forward and the area hushed.

In her ears, two shinning silver rings. Around her middle finger sat a silver ring with a wolf's head, citrine stones for the eyes. Her dress was black and shone in the light. Her feet were adorned with black sandals, quartz crystal going across the buckle. She shook her hair so that it lay behind her. Her blue eyes like her mother glittered out into the crowd.

Lady Elden's voice carried out across the room, "May I present my daughter Rharwen and her familiars, Ashiye the Fox and Shadow the dire." The applause again sounded. Lady Elden's hand stretched out to reach for her daughter's. Pulling her off the stairs they smiled together. "Now, let's get the party started!" Lady Elden would chuckle lightly.

Rharwen's mother left her side, venturing out to see the guests who had been invited. Being of nearly fourteen years Rharwen knew well how to handle herself. Although this was the first formal party she had attended, she had had many dinners with some of these people and had been with some of the children who were attending her 'presentation.'

Mother had prepared her well. The dress, her hair, her shoes and jewelry were all prepared months in advance. Her training for walking this hall, what to say to who, prepared early. Her training had included learning of the other nobles who would be attending tonight. She learnt how each related to her and why they were or were not important.

She smiled to someone she recognized, a male by the name of Acrenar. He was a feline furre. His fur was a light grey color, making the black tips of his ears more prominent then anything. Rharwen strolled toward him, a smirk on her face, "Hey there." Her voice was soft, a little bit of an English accent mixed in.

He turned, amber eyes coming to fall on her form, "Hello Rharwen. I see you will be joining us in the pens now." He smiled, moving to hug her, "Congratulations." Acrenar was two years older then her yet shied away from most. The few friends he had he was very close too. "How the training going? Hope that mother of yours isn't twisting your legs too much."

She shrugged, "Training is hard, but I accept it. Mother has given me control of her two males, Shai and Dmeir. They are hard, but only because mother told them to be. I've seen them cry just from her backhanding them. I wish mother would let me work on the harder ones."

Acrenar chuckled at her statement; "I am still not allowed to have my own, let alone work on any. I am stuck in the books. Father insists I have some way of healing. 'A hurt slave is a weak slave. A healthy slave sells for more too.'" He shook his head, "Father cares too much for his slaves."

Rharwen rolled her eyes, "Unlike my mother who killed another one last week. Apparently it wasn't training well and she got a little rough with the rod."

Acrenar cringed at hearing her words, "I pity the beast. Why must she always use that god-forsaken rod? It's not like they won't be hurt any other way! Your mother is famous for it sweetheart. I remember hearing two outlanders talking about it. They were giving two new slaves to Buff. He seemed happy."

She chuckled, "How is buff, He still alive and well? He's been making quite a few good deals from what I hear. I whole bunch of new slaves from the outback."

He nodded, "That sounds about right, although he sold almost all of them. Apparently they were all very attractive. The females with big busts and the males..." The young boy blushed, "The males who happened to be," He paused again, "well outfitted if you know what I mean."

The female blushed, "I can see why they went so easily then. Did you hear of their temperaments? People have been saying outlanders are very rough, with vulgar language and no personal hygiene skills. Is it really true?"

Acrenar led her to a small couch beside one of the ballroom's large windows. The curtains behind them, like nearly everything else in the house, were black; the couch too was of the same hue. "You see that slave there? The male with the dark hair and blue collar?" He waited till she confirmed it with a nod, "He's an outlander. One of the ones brought in."

Rharwen nodded, "I've seen him in my mother's pens. He seems of well enough temperament and as you stated before he is well outfitted. I saw because I was put on slave cleaning duty, it was disgusting."

He laughed, signaling one of the many slaves about to come with refreshments, "Quite a party, eh?" Music and laughter could be heard in the background, merriment seemed to be over abundant, "You mother plans the best parties."

She nodded, "She trains us all very well for it too." A smirk came across her lips, "Wait till you see what has been planned. You see the round area of tile that is marked off?"

"Aye I do."

"Mother's planning on killing one of her slaves tonight," the girl chuckled.

"What? Why the hell would she kill of a perfectly good slave?"

"Entertainment Acre. People love watching fights, especially fights to the death. And mother has more then enough pets. I think she's putting that female," She pointed out a stout looking female dressed in tight dark leather, "against that male." Again she pointed out the slave, a medium sized male who seemed a decent choice for this fight.

Acre thought for a moment, "I'll place my bet on the female. She's larger and is capable of probably bringing him down quickly. Besides the fact she has less weak points. The male can be seriously injured. Rhar, what are they fighting with anyways?"

"I think they both get a dagger, or whatever they can grab off a guest."

"Which won't be much as none of your guests are prepared for a fight. The guests that do carry a weapon will be watching it closely as always. You know this scene." He gave a roll of his eyes, which in turn made the little one laugh. He hugged her tightly to him; "You are not going to make a very good slaver if you are always so giggly; your pets will not respect you."

The teen suddenly growled, a smile as malicious and threatening as her mother's forming on her face. "My pets will fear me as my mother's pets fear her. I will rule them with an iron fist, and a cruel glare. I will not give them the chance for self-confidence and pride."

Acrenar interrupted her, "And if they come to you with such things?" His brow quirked mischievously as he leaned his chin on her shoulder, a hand coming to rest on her thigh.

She looked about the crowd then quickly kissed the elder male, "And if they come to me with such things," she continued, "I will beat it out of them."

A grin fell across Acre's lips as he finally paid some attention to the slave with drinks. Taking two drinks off the tray he handed one to the smaller Rharwen, "Drink up dear. You need something in you."

The slave began to back away, believing his task finished; a light nod of the head was given when he turned. Acre gave a small upward glance from the place he sat, giving a light clearing of his throat.

"You, slave," He called, nose wrinkling in distaste, "stop right there."

The creature froze in its tracks, turning back around. It's dark eyes lowered to the floor an act of submission.

"Well, you idiot," he near shouted, "What do you have to say for yourself? Did I dismiss you? I think not." Acre stood now, knocking the tray of fine crystal glass from the slave's hands. It made to pick up the glass, cutting itself on the knees and hands before being suddenly kicked in the ribs onto the floor.

Rharwen delighted in watching, her mouth contorting to a smirk, "looks like you have trained well Acre." She swirled the wine about in her own glass, taking in a small sip. A crowd began to draw around the pair, underworld players watching intently, smiles along their faces.

"A nice shot Acre!" came a call.

"Good show m'boy." Another.

Acrenar smirked gently, giving the slave a final kick before seating himself. "Pick it up." He demanded, harsh tone to his voice, "and if I find one piece on the ground no matter how small, I will beat you."

Lady Elden strode over as the crowd broke up, a smile on her face, "Good evening dear, Acre. I see you two are enjoying yourselves?" She paid no attention to the mute slave who was diligently working at his task.

"Mother," Rharwen said, flinging her arms about her mother, "Thank you so much. This is one of your best parties yet."

"Indeed Lady Elden," Acrenar put in, "I'd like to attend more of your functions if I may. Your family provides great delight, and your beauty is merely an added bonus." He stood, half stepping on the slave's forepaw. He took the lady's hand in his own and kissed it. "Lady, why don't you sit and have a drink with your daughter and I, we would be delighted."

Lady Elden drew her hand from his, holding it up with a light smile, "Dear, as much as it flatters me I am forced to decline."

"Why mother?" came Rharwen's voice, small as she spoke to the woman known as her mother.

"I have social duties to see to; People to chat up; the usual. Forgive my absence, but take this as a gift." She handed Acrenar a key from her pocket. It was small, silver with a small hematite stone in the handle, "It opens one of the rooms in the hall, the one with the hematite knob." She chuckled softly, "You may take one of my slaves, or someone else if you so desire." She gave a fleeting look to her almost matured daughter before smiling again to the two. "Now, both of you have a good evening." She turned on her heel, stepping on the slave's hand.

It yelped in pain, drawing the cut and bleeding thing back. Lady Elden looked down, glaring. It's eyes averted and went back to the task of finding the broken pieces.

Acrenar held up the gifted key, "Rharwen, would you..." His voice trailed off as he looked about, catching the eye of his father. He shook it off then leaned over to whisper in her ear, "would you like to follow me to the hematite room?"

Rharwen's face turned to a light blush, "Acre, the question is, do you want me to follow you into the hematite room?" Her arm slid into his and she followed as he led her out of the main room.

"You realize though, that we will miss your mother's slave fight." He nuzzled his cheek lightly against hers, soft meeting soft. Their hands clasped together as they walked through the crowd.

Rharwen nodded after a moment's contemplation, "I know. It'll be a sorry thing to miss, but I'll live." Her thumb ran over the back of his hand, stroking it tenderly. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the form of a stringy male making his way toward them. "Oh-no," She muttered under her breath, "Carnet."

Acrenar looked over his shoulder and gave a sigh with a shake of his head, "I really don't want to deal with this right now." He pulled Rharwen away, almost doubling their pace, "Let's get going."

"Rharwen! Acrenar!" came the high-pitched voice of Carnet. "Hey guys, wait up!"

Carnet was a sorry excuse for an underworld player. With his lanky disposition and untidy hair, he wasn't much to look at. Large blue eyes watched the area about him, a nose like a hook prominent on his mug. He had very large hands, which lead some to believe he was well equip, but in truth, to the dismay of his partners he didn't know how to use such a gift. Unlike most he preferred the study of the culture and populace more then training, working and loving slavers and or other slavers. He approached the two with a glass of wine shaking in his unsteady hands, "I am pleased to find you two here. I've been all alone since you descended the stairs Rharwen, might I add you are looking beautiful tonight."

Rharwen blushed slightly, curtsying in lady's fashion.

Despite Carnet's obvious lack of sex drive, he was a charmer. He could sweet talk a girl into his bed the moment he met her, but freeze up at the very last minute. He was often seen as the romantic of the underworld, a poet of sympathies and loyalties.

Acrenar glowered, "Carnet, we were just off to see to some very personal matters and it would be best if you did not follow."

Carnet's blue eyes widened sharply, "That has to be one of the bluntest rejections I've ever heard. You had better watch your tongue," under his breath he muttered the final word, "boy."

Carnet was also older then Acrenar, by five years, although, he did not seem it. Acrenar was more heavily built and was quick with a blade. Carnet took careful measures, more useful on the battlefield then in a bar room brawl.

Acrenar growled slightly, pulling Rharwen roughly away, causing her to squeak in sudden protest. His hand moved swiftly to her face to quiet her, stroking the soft pale cheek with the back of his hand. Acre looked from Carnet to Rharwen, a slight smirk flashing across his lips. "Come love," he said softly, putting special emphasis on the word 'Love', "We have more important things to do then be way laid by this filthy vagrant."

Carnet turned, his face flushed with anger, "You'll regret your words Acrenar. Believe me, you will."

As they began to depart a cry went up among the crowd. Lady Elden stood on a small table top, a broad grin lacing her cheeks. "Friends, Enemies, Guests and our under fellows. Tonight will be a night never to forget, for tonight there will be a sacrifice." A hush took the room and a dozen slaves put out half the candles in the room simultaneously. The room darkened and a small boy, born into slavery stood beneath her, lighting her face, making her all the more ominous. "Tonight," She half-whispered, making the crowd listen intently, "I sacrifice one of my own. I present my female, Shiasta, against my male, Tyrone." The two slaves moved to stand beside her, bowing their heads.

"Now," She commented, capturing the attention of Acre and Rharwen, "To make this fight all the more interesting, I will add in this bit. Both of my slaves, male and female will strip down." A joyful celebrative cheer erupted, large amounts to applause to follow. "They will wear nothing as they fight, and it is to the death." Lady Elden roared the last word, her brow furrowing and mouth taking malicious shape.

The two slaves began to strip, moving to the tabletop as their mistress stepped down. The female striped herself of the leather bodice that covered her ample breast, taking it one lace at a time. Her fingers moving deftly in trained precision to entice her audience. The skirt came off as well, her finger sliding unconsciously between her legs and into the warmth that was her pleasure center. Her mouth opened in a silent moan, the male portion of the audience shivered with pleasure.

The male beside her, watched his audience closely, looking to see what they wanted. Unlike the female, he wore very little, merely a loincloth, which was at this point half off due to his erection. His companion was more or less to blame for this and Elden did not like that at all.

"Now, because my male has decided not to show himself, I will have to do it for him," came her growl. Her arms laced through the slave's taking care to undo the loincloth she flung it aside, gripping the male's stiff member. "Tyrone, what am I going to do with you?" She looked at the audience as she said this, expecting them to reply instead of the slave.

"Make them copulate!" came one call.

"Her mouth around his cock!" came another.

Elden pondered the second then smiled, "Shiasta, here." The female fell at her mistress's feet, large breasts pressing against the floor. Her paws lay on the ground, shown upward. "Shiasta, would you like to make the crowd happy?"

The slave nodded, eyes kept on the floor, "Yes my mistress."

Elden's fingers traced the male's shoulders, "Tyrone, would you like to make the crowd happy?" She gave a smirk, tightening her grip on his rigid cock.

"Yes my mistress." He muttered, shivering under her touch.

"Then Shiasta, I want to you suck your opponent off. I want you to go in fighting with cum on your face." Lady Elden laughed callously, sighting the crowd's arousal at the proposition. Her hand moved and she stepped down, giving her slaves a soft hiss, "You better make this good."

They nodded solemnly, whispering in unison, "Yes my mistress."

Shiasta kneeled before Tyrone, her hand wrapping where her mistress's used to be. She began by lightly stroking the flesh, giving him a moment to adjust to the pleasure before plunging him into the warm, wet of her mouth. His eyes closed at her touch, moaning lightly as her small fingers worked his large cock.

She looked to her mistress for a nod, got it then moved upward a bit, holding him still in her grasp she slid him into her mouth, running her tongue across the head. Her training kicked in and she automatically took his cock to the back of her throat, half swallowing, choking then sucking again.

Tyrone near lost his balance as she took him, and even more so as his cock slid to the back of her throat. He bucked his hips into her, thrusting his rigid member further, causing her to gag severely.

The crowd watched with interest, a few male's hands in their pockets, toying with their own cocks. The ladies looked terribly uncomfortable, yet aroused at the same time. A few women shifted about anxiously, whimpering. Wishing for pleasure.

Shiasta continued to suck hard, pulling back, running her teeth lightly over the head of his cock. She could tell it caused him pain and even more pleasure by the sudden shiver and moan that escaped him. Ecstasy began to overtake the slave and she moved fast, thrusting him in and out of her throat.

Tyrone could do little to cease the groans that escaped him. He had not been pleasured like this in the longest of times. His hands moved behind her head, pushing her down onto him. He could feel the pressure building and wished nothing more then to cum into her warm wet mouth. He closed his eyes, panting heavily as he came. Pulling the cock from her mouth, cum shot from the red throbbing head of his cock onto her cheeks and down her ample bust.

Shiasta shivered with delight, licking the cum from her lips, before she was thrown aside by her mistress. "Now, guests and friends, I would like you to place your bets, and get ready for a fight that no one will forget." Elden boomed from her place beside them, watching the male's raged breath. She pulled him down, watching him closely.

The guests dispersed in their fashion, discussing the recent events quite openly. They watched the two as they settled themselves and prepared for the upcoming fight. Measuring the different qualities of each. Soon their decisions were made and they came back to the ring, where a healthy yet cum covered Shiasta stood and an exhausted Tyrone entered.

The two looked at each other, then to their mistress. Lady Elden stood within the ring; "I hope your decisions have been made wisely my friends. To the victor, is freedom, to the loser death." A roar went among the crowd, excitement and enjoyment building.

Rharwen stood in front of Acre, the ever-present bulge of his erected shaft was hard to resist. She leaned against him, touching the swell to her rear smiling as her mother had a few moments earlier, a look of longing, lust and malice.

Acre wrapped his arms about her drawing her hard against him. One hand gripped her left breast, the other slid between her legs, giving her pussy a playful taste of what was to come later. She closed her eyes and fell into his chest, her mouth opening slightly in a silent moan.

Carnet watched from a short distance away, his eyes narrowed and a growl prepared in his throat. His fists clenched and unclenched, his knuckles turning white and his cheeks red. He could not stand to see Rharwen pleasured by such an animal. Of all the people in this room, she was best suited from him; strong, yet intelligent, beautiful and malicious. He shivered as he thought of making love to her, kissing her soft ample breast, thrusting his hard shaft into the warmth of her tight sex.

Carnet grinned slightly, then turned, walking away from the festivities. It was hard making his way through the crowd, his loose pants showing easily his erect shaft. He sighed once freed of the crowded ballroom.

The hall extended for a great length, the walls lined with paintings of the manor's former owners. This manor was and had been owned by the Rowin family for as long as the Tyrane Monarchy had reigned, which most had to admit had been a long time. Only recently had parts of the family turned to the darker side, although, every family had their little secrets.

Carnet's eyes met those of Rharwen, or at least the eyes painted on canvas met his own. The artist had captured the softness and the maliciousness of the young female. In Carnet's mind, that was a great feat, for it showed her double nature, which he loved.

The darkness of the hall consumed him, pulling his mind to the depths. To thoughts of stealing the young lady away from the arrogant bastard known as Acrenar; drawing her willingly from Acre's embrace to his own, cuddling and fondling her. He would hold her long into the night, pulling a stand of long hair from her face as she slept. Should she stir in her sleep, he would nuzzle his cheek against hers whispering softly, "settle m'love, all will be well." Carnet stood now before a window, gazing toward the large surface of the harvest moon.

A loud cry came from the ballroom, half of success the other half of dismay. The fight had obviously been won, by whom, Carnet didn't know and didn't care. He continued to stare out the window, interrupted only when he heard the soft murmurings of Acrenar's voice and Rharwen's soft giggle.

He held her about the waist, kissing along her neck. She struggled playfully, her carefully tied hair, now falling about her shoulders. "Acre!" She laughed, pulling away, "Stop it! Not yet." She laughed again, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately, not even noting the light form of Carnet in the window.

"Oh, but my little Rharwen, the time is now," came Acre's deep voice, near her ear. His hand slid about her sides, tickling, "Playtime for my Rharwen." Both completely ignored him, leaving him standing in the window as they trotted down the hall to the hematite room, to which they had the key.

Carnet was left standing alone, or so he had thought. A small sigh came from behind him. He turned to catch the eye of the lady Elden. "F-forgive me Lady, I did not see you there."

Her hand rose to quiet him, "Oh, titles here are not needed and there is no need for forgiveness. I saw the way you looked at my daughter, is there something that you wish of her?"

"L-lady Elden, c-could I possibly ask you for your daughter's hand?" He raised a brow, taking her hand and kissing it.