Spellbound

2. Enslaved

When Lavellan awoke, the cart and his cage stood still. The air surrounding him was warmer than in the Free Marches where his clan resided. Yet, he felt cold. In his blindness, he didn't know what caused that feeling at first, until he noticed the lack of other people around him.

He still reorientated himself to this new surrounding, when his cage got grabbed brusquely and lugged off. His yelp drowned in his chest when he fell over, but this time no hit came. A single person's heavy steps carried him off, and judging by the grumbling breaths above him, Lavellan concluded this had to be a Tal-Vashoth. Qunari slaves were rare in Tevinter, kudos to their long history of massacres and cruelties on each other. Yet, no magister could refuse the raw strength in their wired muscles on massive bodies.

Lavellan had never seen a Tal-Vashoth up close. He spied a group of their mercenaries from the hills during a hunt once, but they had been unbothered by the Dalish clan as they passed. He respected their height and the brutality of their strength. Being parted from one's immediate proximity by only a few iron bars humbled Lavellan. He would do better not to anger this person.

Although it might be his last chance to flee.

Lavellan shifted in his cage and a warning grunt reminded him to stay still. Its potent growl was restricted by either language or the lack of a tongue and he bit his lip at the imagination of the same happening to him.

He had to keep his cool and find a way out of here; wherever this was. The way from Tevinter back home was long and tedious, but once he reached the borders, he would find other elves who could help him. He had to do anything in order not to get enslaved.

Tense, Lavellan waited with every muscle clenched and ready to jump into action as soon as he could. He wouldn't be able to retrieve his bow, but his speed and agility might outmatch the Tal-Vashoth. As long as no mage came after him throwing fireballs, he might slip away.

Crossing Tevinter by dashing from nook to nook would be a near-impossible task, but he would rather die trying than sit without resistance.

The cage dully thudded to the ground and shook Lavellan inside. When he heard the jingle of keys, he positioned his legs.

The door to the cage opened at the front, but before it was open far enough for him to flee, the massive hand of the Tal-Vashoth reached inside. Lavellan called out when it brusquely grabbed onto his tunic and hauled him out of his cage. He lost the ground under his feet, kicking in defiance, but the slave's body was hard as a rock. Uncaring of the blows delivered to him, he dropped Lavellan, and a door slammed shut before he could scramble to his feet. Panicked, he slammed his body into the new set of bars, but the Tal-Vashoth took off without minding him.

Petrified with fear, Lavellan stood in his place. His mind spun with questions about where he was, what was happening, where he would end up, but he didn't have any answers. The uncertainty left him reeling, as if he had lost the ground under his feet.

He needed to see.

"Fenedhis," Lavellan cursed and wound himself. His arms were restricted so tightly to his back that he couldn't jump through their loop and sweep away the blindfold. He was about to try brushing it off with his shoulder again when hesitant shuffling had him whip around. With his back pressed to the cell bars, he bared his teeth at the person behind him. His shoulders hunched as they readied to attack, using the weight of his body.

"Don't do it. Please let me help you," a soft female voice begged. She had halted in her steps to offer him space to refuse, but he felt no ill intention from her.

Distrustful, Lavellan picked up on her scent. She smelled like a confusing mix of human and elf, but she was no halfling. They weren't alone in this cell. Other captives stuck to the corners, as wary of Lavellan as he was of them. Their scents mingled in a most unusual mixture.