She watched that pointy eared freak pound on her door, and she sighed. He'd be trouble, that one. Problem was, he was pretty. Too pretty, and Dalia was having a hard time deciding on whether to kill him or make him another slave, like Mara.
She had just the right tools, a body to die for, a face that made the angel's weep, (at least, in fear), and the skills to make his blood boil and passion sing. He'd be hers, in time.
She hummed as she ground powders and herbs, preparing a sleeping draught for the elf. She knew where to find him, since she'd seen him hanging about, watching that other elf, Sharon' Sharra? Something with an "S". She'd find him, trick him into drinking, and then whisk him away, back to her apartments above the closed shoppe.
Thinking of the workshop and lounge she'd made into living quarters, Dalia began to cry, for it brought thoughts of Zillah to her mind. His body was safe, for now. If all she had planned came to fruition, he would live again, along side his precious Mara.
With that thought, she glanced to the case in the corner. Mara, embalmed in honey for the time being, and returned to her pristine condition, merely looked to be sleeping. Her time would come, her Prince Zillah would awaken her with a kiss, and then he would be able to do with her what he will. Dalia always did what she could to please her loving brother.
With a mad gleam in her eye, and a sadistic smile, she hummed and worked away, the wicked gears in her mind churning out plan after plan.
She had just the right tools, a body to die for, a face that made the angel's weep, (at least, in fear), and the skills to make his blood boil and passion sing. He'd be hers, in time.
She hummed as she ground powders and herbs, preparing a sleeping draught for the elf. She knew where to find him, since she'd seen him hanging about, watching that other elf, Sharon' Sharra? Something with an "S". She'd find him, trick him into drinking, and then whisk him away, back to her apartments above the closed shoppe.
Thinking of the workshop and lounge she'd made into living quarters, Dalia began to cry, for it brought thoughts of Zillah to her mind. His body was safe, for now. If all she had planned came to fruition, he would live again, along side his precious Mara.
With that thought, she glanced to the case in the corner. Mara, embalmed in honey for the time being, and returned to her pristine condition, merely looked to be sleeping. Her time would come, her Prince Zillah would awaken her with a kiss, and then he would be able to do with her what he will. Dalia always did what she could to please her loving brother.
With a mad gleam in her eye, and a sadistic smile, she hummed and worked away, the wicked gears in her mind churning out plan after plan.