Black Staszi Comes To Town - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The drow elf walked into the inn's common room, and the crowd's speech died away. Everyone - innkeeper, serving wenches, including Siri, locals, and travelers - stared at the shadowy figure. Except for gleaming black skin on the lower half of the elf's face, they could only see an engulfing cloak.

From the door the drow stepped forward and came to stand in the room's center, where Siri the serving maid stood frozen. While the redhead maid watched, an ebony long-fingered hand crawled out of the cloak and drew off the hood. Siri's eyes fixed on tangled white hair, pointed ears, and red-tinted spectacles covering the eyes.

The hollow gaze roved around the inn and finally settled on her. "Room," came a hoarse voice out of the dark face, startling the girl.

Hareth, owner of the Lost Harbor Inn, stepped forward beside Siri. "Room we have, master elf," he challenged, sucking his teeth, "for those as have business here in town, yes."

The red glasses swiveled to him. "Room," repeated the elf.

Hareth frowned. "Do ye speak Costnerish?" he asked.

The dark elf's head shook. "No," the reply cracked.

Beside the innkeeper Siri blinked at the slight face. Something within the concealed alien features struck her as wrong, fragile.

"Pay," added the elf. The hand reappeared out of the cloak. Long fingers opened, revealing a shining gold coin.

Both Hareth and Siri stared at the rare yellow metal.

"Room," repeated the dark elf. "Food. Wine." Its breath shuddered, and it added: "Please."

Slowly Hareth extended his palm. The drow's hand turned over and dropped the coin into his. It was covered with a dark red crust.

"Siri," bade the inn-keeper: "take our guest upstairs to the far room."

Siri ducked her red curls. She set her tray on a table and turned back to the newcomer. "This way, master elf."

The ebony face searched hers. Slowly it nodded.

Siri headed toward the stairway; the drow following. When they reached the stairs, the redhead girl looked back down. At the foot her charge clutched the bannister. The dark figure remained fixed, foot on the first step. The tendons of the drow's hands writhed. Siri turned and redescended. "Master Elf, are you all right?"

The drow merely stared back; red-goggled eyes locked on her. Siri noted a patch of blood, dried into the matted white hair, marred the otherwise smooth features. Biting her lip, Siri offered her hand to the dark elf.

"Come," she offered.

Over the spectacle rims Siri caught a glimpse of slanted lavender eyes. With a sigh they shut. "Come," repeated the drow. The long hand sought hers.

Siri helped the swaying figure up the stair; shoulder supporting the small body. By the time they reached the far room, the redhead was nearly carrying the exhausted figure. The elf's lightness surprised her. She opened the door, helped the elf across the floor, and set them both on the bed. Once off foot, the drow seemed to shrivel.

Siri caught her breath. "Are you hurt?" The dark elf's spectacles had fallen askew. The violet-amethyst eyes, now unhidden, blinked back. The redhead left the bed and knelt before the drow. Carefully she reached upward, testing the blood-matted spot on the drow's temple.

"Are you hurt?" she repeated.

"Hurt," rasped a quiet reply.

"Let me help," urged the girl. She waited for a nod from the elf, and then reached for the cloak's clasp.

As she expected, more blood had dripped and dried down the drow's neck, accompanying scabbed cuts on arms, but she did not expect to find her charge almost naked. Neither did she expect to see the knife clenched in her patient's hand; nor did she expect two small breasts, firm but soft, nipples almost purple and pierced with twin silver bars.

Siri stared at these while her assumptions broke apart.

She mastered her surprise. "Here, let me take that," she whispered. As gently as she could, she reached out to the knife, not grabbing, just touching.

The she-drow gazed blankly.

"It's all right," reassured the maiden. "You're safe here. I promise." Gingerly she took the gore-crusted dagger and laid it on a cupboard.

"You're a-," she stuttered, staring into the drow's purple eyes. "You're a woman."

Nakedly the drow-wife shivered. The redhead hurried to grab an armful of towels and a washbasin.

Siri returned to the room and found her patient curled into a ball. The maid applied a wet cloth to the bloody swollen forehead while she studied the elf's collection of wounds. She bit her lip when next she examined the elf-wife's ears. Their edges hung lacerated, gummed together with more blood, as if something had been ripped out of them. Also, the drow's ribs were broken, but the cuts on her arms proved shallow if filthy. Siri got soap, and also added brandy to the wash-basin. When she rinsed off the elf-woman's lower half, she found more blood between her patient's legs, and also something else. Siri shuddered, unwilling to name the defilement.

She stared at her patient. "What's your name?" she softly asked. The drow merely blinked, and Siri repeated: "Name?"

"Name?" mimicked the elf.

Siri nodded.

"Staszi," answered the drow.

The girl's forehead wrinkled. "Stozzy?"

"Staszi." The drowess enunciated all the sounds.

Her caretaker nodded. "Siri," she offered.

"Siri," acknowledged Staszi: "Help."

"Don't worry. I'll help you."

"Pay," intoned the dark elf.

"No, no. Don't worry about that," insisted the redhead. "Now relax, and don't move."

The bandaging of the ribs and the arm-wounds went straightforwardly. She had troubled most about the ears. In the end she stitched their tears together. She could do nothing about the head-stroke, nor the ill that had happened to the drowess's loins.

Two hours later, Siri stumbled downstairs. She carried the full washbasin through the common room, where she found nigh a dozen of the town's locals waiting; more than this place usually held. Siri ignored them and headed out through the foyer, where she flung bloody water into the street.

She turned back inside to find Hareth waiting. "So?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's bad."

"You think he'll survive?"

"No he," she corrected: "She."

His mouth gaped.

"She's been ill-used," explained the serving maid. "Made captive and ravished." She scowled amid red curls. "She has cracked ribs, a swollen head, and Lady knows what else. Also, she had a knife."

Hareth's eyes widened. "What knife?"

"It was covered in blood, and likely not her own. I guess she escaped from wherever she was held."

The innkeeper frowned. "I talked to the gate guards. No one saw her come into town."

Siri shrugged. "What about that band of dark elves that came through last season?"

"They came somewhere from out of the Wastes. Stayed here a couple days when they had business with the Count. Couldn't say what." He shook his head. "Like as not good."

"You think she was part of them?" she wondered.

"I didn't even know they had womenfolk among them. Anyway, the Count's not here now. That was three battles ago. Gods know whether he even still lives."

"Well, she was either part of that band, or someone of them told her how to reach here," concluded Siri. "Either way, she's here now."

"Dark elves just don't wander out of the Wastes, even by His Lordship's word," muttered Hareth. "If she's here, there are those as'll want to know why."

For the next three days Siri sponged water down the dark elf's throat. She changed her patient's dressings and brushed brandy-fortified honey onto the inflamed wounds. At night, after the common room quietened, she laid her red curls on the pillow next to Staszi and slept, not knowing whether Staszi might ever wake.

On the morning of the third day the redhead dozed when the she-elf stirred. Siri opened her eyes to see the drow's lashes slit open.

Siri smiled. "You're awake," she greeted.

The drow's lavendar eyes regarded her; expressionless.

Siri reached out and stroked her white hair. Her smile widened. "I'm glad you're alive."

"Siri?" Staszi asked huskily.

"You remember," beamed the redhead woman. Despite herself, a couple tears gathered in her eyes. "Yes, my name is Siri."

Staszi nodded, still lying on the pillow.

"Are you hungry?" asked Siri. She pointed at her mouth. "Hungry?"

"Yes, hungry."

"Wonderful, sweetling." The redhead rose on the bed. "I'll get you something to eat." Before the drow could react, Siri bent over, kissed her forehead, and left the room.

Staszi lay in mid-flinch. She blinked at the shut door through which Siri had disappeared. Reluctantly she relaxed. Still prone, she gazed around the room. She squinted at the cracks of light shining through the closed shutters. Painfully she turned her eyes away and continued inspection of the furnishings. She took in the bench, stool, small table, and wash stand.

On a cupboard lay the drow's spectacles and her knife, cleaned and neatly set. Staszi's gaze froze. Unsteadily she folded off the blankets and discovered she was dressed from bosom to waist in tightly wrapped bandages. With effort she pushed herself to sit. She wobbled, leaning over the bed's edge. Fighting dizziness, she reached for the knife. Exhaustedly she lay back and concealed it under her pillow.

Siri descended the stairs, where Hareth was sweeping the common room. "She's awake!" she announced while she hurried to the kitchen.

"Awake?" The innkeeper followed her through the doorway, where he found the maid hanging a pot of beef broth over the fireplace. "So she'll live?"

She paused and smiled. "I think so."

Hareth nodded. "So what did she have to say?"

"You know she doesn't speak."

"Ye're right." He sighed. "A pair of hunters came into town yesterday. They said they'd found the bodies of three orcs and three goblins, all dead and wickedly cut up."

Siri halted. "Where?"

"About ten miles out, toward the Wastes."

"Ten miles," she wondered. "That's a long way to walk wounded."

"I spoke with Wolver. He was on watch that eve." he added. "Claims he never saw her come through."

Siri added wood to the hearth. "So?"

"So, he pondered: "that means she snuck into town."

"Well, the dark elves are mightily stealthful," she replied, and snorted. "No surprise she got by him."

"True." Despite himself he grinned. "Only, why sneak over the wall into town and then walk through the front door of an inn, in full sight?"

Siri frowned. "Well, let's say she'd gone to the gate. It would've been dusk, right before it closes. What would've happened?"

"Wolver sees a drow pop out of the dark? He would've rung the alarm, if not shot his crossbow dead where she stood."

Siri shrugged. "Maybe that's why she snuck in."

Later that eve, just after sunset, Siri looked up from her tray of serving tankards. She beheld Staszi easing down the stairway. The dark elf wore one of Siri's spare blouses. Its wide neckline and generous cut threatened to slip off her shoulders. Were it not for the rib-bandages, her nipple-studs would have peeked out. On reaching the stair's bottom, the she-drow halted. Her lavender eyes glowed as she peered around the common room.

For the second time in the week, the dark elf's appearance halted conversation. Hareth finished filling a pitcher. He took off his apron, hung it off the taproom bar, and headed toward the drow.

Siri cut in front of him and hurried to the dark elf's side. "Staszi! Why are you up? You should rest more." As gently as she could, the redhead led her patient to the corner by the kitchen, where she set her on a bench. "Here," she bade. "Would you like some tea?"

"Tea?" The drow's face frowned in question.

"Yes, tea," repeated Siri. She mimicked lifting a cup to her lips. "Something to drink?"

"Drink," parroted Staszi.

"Yes. Just wait right here." The redhead laid a hand on Staszi's arm. "I'll get it for you." She smiled and passed into the kitchen.

Staszi waited where she had been left. She looked upward and found the common room's denizens all staring back. Hareth came forward to the stair, where he stopped, studying his inn's peculiar guest.

Siri returned with a steaming cup, which she handed to Staszi. At the vessel's heat the drow nearly dropped it. Her catlike eyes widened.

"Drink," encouraged the maid.

Staszi held the cup with barely her fingertips. She sniffed its vapor, brought her lip near, and hissed.

"What's the matter?" asked Siri.

The drow shook her head. Setting the cup on the bench, she dipped her fingertip into the liquid and again hissed.

"It's hot?" asked Siri.

"Yes. Hot."

"Here. Let me cool it for you." Siri took back the cup. Softly she blew over the tea, causing steam to roll off. With exaggerated care her lips took a small sip. "There." She gave it back. "See?"

Cautiously Staszi accepted the cup. She copied Siri's manner, blowing on the tea, and took a small sip. Her tongue worked, moving the strange brew around her mouth.

Hareth came closer while Siri supervised Staszi's experiment with tea. "So?" he asked expectantly.

Siri glanced at him. "Hareth," she introduced: "Staszi. Staszi," she waved a palm at the innkeeper: "Hareth."

From her teacup Staszi suspiciously studied him. "Hareth," she repeated, and slowly nodded.

Unsettled, Hareth nodded back. "So, he repeated, turning to Siri: "What do we do?"

"She can't leave," insisted the serving maid.

"Can't really keep her here, either."

"So what would you do? Turn her over to the Guard and let them keep her in prison?"

He shrugged. "That'd as likely stand as the proper thing to do."

She scowled. "She hasn't done anything."

"Not to us, no." He sighed. "Look. As much as you like her, Siri, I'm not exactly running a charity here."

"That I know," she snapped. "Look. Let her stay until she gets her strength. By then she'll find a way to earn her keep. Maybe that'll also give us time to learn why she's here."

Hareth scratched his beard. "Ye know, she's not a pet."

Her brow sharpened. "What do you mean?"

"These Drow are killers, savages. They live underground in caves where they never see the light. They make slaves of our kind. They eat their own babies! Don't grow too attached."

"I know she's not a cat or such," snapped Siri. "She's a person, and she needs our help."

Hareth lifted his shoulders. "We'll see how this goes."

Five days later, Staszi sat on the bedside while Siri unwound the bandages from her ribs. When the last strip came free, Siri found herself crouching before the naked dark elf. She stared at the twin silver bars piercing the drow's nipples.

The redhead forced her mind back to concerns. "How do you feel?" she asked. As gently as she could, she touched Staszi's side. "Do these hurt?"

A frown passed over the drow's face. "Hurt," she answered. Her head shrugged.

"It feels better?" queried Siri.

Again the shock of white hair shrugged. "Better."

"I'm glad." Gently she stroked Staszi's ebony flank. "These'll be a while healing, but I think they're clean. "What worries me more are these." She sat beside Staszi and delicately fingered the dark elf's healing ears. Except for the stitches, they had mended, leaving short jagged scars through the lobes and outer shells. "What happened?" she asked.

Staszi grimaced. She pointed to one of the studs in her nipples, and then to her ear.

"You had these in your ears?" asked Siri. She recalled wealthy ladies she had seen, and the fashion of ear-rings they wore. Her finger made a circular motion. "Did you have rings in your ears?"

"Rings," affirmed Staszi. She brought her hand up to her ear. Her long fingers made a grasping motion and tugged violently down.

"They tore them out," interpreted Siri. Her mind took the details of Staszi's suffering and turned them into a tale. "It was the orcs, wasn't it?" she asked. "Orcs?"

The dark elf's amethyst eyes froze. "Yurqni," she whispered.

Siri's brown eyes locked on hers. "And there were goblins, too?"

The elven eyes blinked. "Golni."

The redhead woman smiled sadly. "And they hurt you?"

Staszi shut her eyes. For a long while she neither moved nor spoke. "Hurt me," she admitted.

"I'm sorry," said Siri. Tears in her eyes, she reached out and cupped Staszi's cheek.

At the touch the dark elf flinched, but then checked herself. She allowed the caress; Siri's pale white skin against her black. Her body loosened.

Siri bit her lip. "I was hurt once. Not by goblins or such, but by men, pirates from the sea. They came here, laid me across one of the tables, and took turns. I cried and fought, but it didn't help." She shuddered. "It hurt so much."

Staszi lifted a hand. She laid her long dark fingers along the woman's. "Hurt you?" she asked.

"Yes, they hurt me."

Siri rested her head on the dark elf's shoulder and wept. Staszi remained motionless, supporting the woman, hand clasping hers.

"I'm being silly," declared the redhead, lifting her head. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" asked Staszi.

"Never mind." Siri wiped her eyes. "You would probably love a bath."

"Bath?"

"Yes." She stood and took the drow's hand. "Come with me."

Siri dressed Staszi in a robe and led the elf downstairs, back by the kitchen to the inn's bathhouse. Beneath a cloud of steam waited a sunken bathtub full with hot water.

Siri reached for the hem of Staszi's robe. "Here. Let's take that off."

Uncertainly Staszi looked at the tub of water. She complied and undressed.

Siri hung the robe on a peg. "All right." She waved at the tub. "Get in."

Staszi's eyes widened. She glanced to the tub and back to the girl.

"What's the matter?" asked the maid.

The drow pointed at the bath. In confirmation Siri nodded. "Yes. Go ahead."

Staszi shook her head. In answer she growled threatfully in Drow.

Siri blinked. "What's the matter?"

Again Staszi pointed at the bath. "W'alunorai! J'hiio elqu lu?!" She shook her head emphatically.

"You don't want a bath?" asked Siri.

In response Staszi crouched next to the bath. Her fingers flicked the waters surfaced. She hissed. "Hot!"

"It's too hot?" asked Siri.

"Yes," answered the dark elf. "Hot."

"Well, no worries," Turning, Siri picked up a full pail by the wall. "You see?" she asked. "It's not hot."

Suspiciously Staszi tested the water. "Not hot," she confirmed.

"No, it's not," agreed Siri. Smoothly she emptied the pail into the bathtub.

Staszi stared at the basin of water.

"It's all right," soothed Siri. Gauging the drow's confusion, she reached for the laces of her bodice. "Here. I'll go in with you."

While the dark elf watched, the redhead disrobed. Siri stepped out of her skirt, pulled her chemise over her head, and stood naked before her. Staszi stared at the woman, at the fall of her red curls down her ivory-white shoulders, at the field of freckles that dusted her face and upper chest. Her breasts hung large and heavy, full ripe fruit whose pink nipples blossomed wide. Below, her waist narrowed to a smooth belly, flared again into firm round hips, and then tapered from her strawberry thatch to pale legs and small feet. Staszi's eyes roved wonderingly.

Under the elf's stare Siri blushed. "Come," she said redly. She stepped into the tub. The water came up to her knees. She reached out a hand: "Get in."

Slowly Staszi stepped and clasped Siri's hand. Gingerly she lifted a slim black foot and set it in the bath. The other limb followed. Siri's hand steadied her.

Gently Siri lowered them both down into the water. She gasped as the heat reached her breasts, floating them. Staszi held her breath, braced against the heat, and then sighed. The dark elf leaned against the redhead, enveloped in the bathwater up to her shoulders. Siri made a chair of her lap and body and had Staszi sit against her.

The maid played her hands through the water, scooped it up, and dribbled it over the drow's shoulders and hair. "Does this feel good?" she asked.

Staszi languidly nodded. "Good."

"I thought it might." The redhead reached for the soap jar on the bathtub's edge. "Let's wash you."

From the jar she withdrew a handful of soap-curds and smeared them on Staszi's hair. Gently she worked them to lather, using her fingernails to massage the scalp. The black elf slowly eased into the treatment. Siri pushed soapsuds down to the drow's shoulders. She began to scrub them into her deep black skin. She kneaded the muscles of her neck and shoulders. As Staszi relaxed, Siri applied more force. Soon the dark elf drooped backward; the redhead's flesh a cushion, her bosom pillowing Staszi's head.

Siri hesitated before she moved to the drow's breasts. Slowly her hands encompassed them. Despite herself, her fingers sought out the drow's wide purple-black nipples. She touched their impaling silver bars, tested the metal's hold in the flesh. A whimper rose in Staszi's throat, at which the redhead halted her ministration.

Staszi's raised her hands. They pressed the maid's further into her small breasts.

Siri gazed at the drow, amazed at the pleasure her touch evoked. She marveled at Staszi's dark beauty curving downward to her waist and navel, where they disappeared into the water. "D- does it feel good?" she asked, voice betraying her.

"Good," whispered Staszi.

Her long fingers reached back and tangled in the redhead's curls. Siri continued the massage, even as she was uncertain what was happening. Staszi's excitement communicated itself to the maid's limbs, making her tremble. Her heart thundered in her bosom. Confused, Siri stilled, holding the dark elf tight. Staszi lay against her. She stretched against Siri's hands. At long last her breath slowed.

The maid gathered her wits. "Here. We need to rinse you." She released her hands, cupped them together, and ladled bathwater over Staszi's head. Staszi shut her eyes and leaned forward to let the soap and water drain away. Afterward, Siri used her fingers to comb the drow's short hair back from her eyes.

"Better now?" she asked.

"Better," agreed Staszi. The dark elf flashed a small smile. She turned and faced Siri, kneeling in the tub. "Wash you?"

Siri's mouth dropped open. "You want to wash me?"

"Wash you," repeated the dark elf with quiet force. Her long hand reached for the soap-jar.

Siri blushed from head to bosom as the drow straddled her thighs. Staszi laid her fingers on the redhead's neck and wiped suds over her pale skin. She leaned near and worked her shoulders. Slowly the woman loosened, letting herself lean against the tub's rim. Staszi studied her companion's relaxation, the loll of her head, the fluttering of her eyelids.

The dark elf's fingers trailed downward and stroked the woman's full breasts, and Siri gasped. Her eyes snapped open to find the drow's face almost touching hers. Amethyst orbs stared into her brown eyes. Staszi's hands clasped Siri's bosom and pressed her soft flesh into her own chest. The maid surprised herself by arching into the caress.

The dark elf slipped her fingers to the woman's areolae. She cradled them like pale pink carnations that she slowly pressed shut until their petals began to crush. Under her Siri lay as if pierced by a spear, eyes shut, mouth open, breath stopped. Her face reddened to almost the color of her hair, mouth wide in a silent scream.

Staszi hovered nearer. Upon the redhead's panting mouth the dark elf's lips laid a kiss. She surveyed her bath partner.

Siri's eyes opened and shut before finally resting on the drow's countenance. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Then her limbs stiffened. "I need to get up."

Staszi moved away, sloshing to the tub's other end. Siri stepped out of the tub, water dripping from her curves. She blushed again, this time not from excitement. Hurriedly, she dressed, still wet, and left the bath house.

Staszi followed from the bath. She regarded the door through which Siri had left.

Continued in Chapter 2

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