Faryn felt his weight lift from the bed, though she didn’t move or even acknowledge him. His footsteps echoed on the  stone ground as he left the cave and only then did she move. Faryn sat up, running a hand over her face to relieve it of some sweat that had built up. She felt sticky, both with sweat and his seed. Faryn used one of the fur blankets to wipe herself off before tossing it on the floor. She didn’t try to escape the cave, finding the energy to do so having been sapped from her. Besides, if she left all that she had endured so far would be for not. Faryn looked at her ripped robes that still laid in a pile near the bed. They had been good clothes, something she was not accustomed to but still well crafted by her people. He was taking everything from her, her body, her people and her culture. Nothing looked familiar anymore and there was nothing to hold onto for comfort.<br/><br/>Faryn got up and grabbed his shirt that was on the floor, pulling it over her body. The garment was too big for her, going down to her midthigh with her curves and womanly features being hidden by the bulk. She hated the fact she put on his shirt, like a lover wanting to be further encased by his scent. It wasn’t like she didn’t smell like him already. His furs and now her body were coated in his scent. It made her sick. Faryn listened as she heard footsteps coming back into the cave. She watched as Cromir and another man came back into the room. One sat himself down on a box at a makeshift strategy table. Faryn went back to the bed, feeling the need to speak to him nonexistent. She laid down in the bed, placing a fur blanket over her body and staring at the wall. She could hear the scratching of knife on wood, which grabbed her attention and made her look toward the carving man. Eyes focused on that little task, watching the way his fingers moved and made a piece of dead wood into something that was yet to be discerned.<br/><br/>People began filing in, all of which was given a glance from her position on her bed before she began to watch the carving man once more. It was nice to see someone had skill other than barbarianism. Even when the new bandages were tossed on the bed she simply ignored them. The sound of a woman’s voice drew her attention. Faryn recognized the woman from before. She looked at the timid woman beside her. The princess glanced at Cromir when he pointed at her, her cheek smushed into the bed. She watched the timid slave girl come over to her but didn’t acknowledge her besides making brief eye contact.<br/><br/>Then the rumbling came, the same type she had seen earlier. It was this that caused her head to raise and look in the direction of the sound. A moment later a black dragon’s head slid through the opening. Eyes widened slightly as she gazed into the large yellow orbs of the beast. What was Cromir doing with a dragon? True she had heard it speak before but seeing it only confirmed that he had control over the beast.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ffcc">“Greeting, friend.”</span>Faryn muttered in draconic, wanting to pay her respects to the revered beast without fully giving away her ability to speak the language to the humans. Much was unknown about elves and she wanted to keep it that way. Her left palm pressed lightly to her breast over her heart, the motion semi hidden under her laying body. She had been raised to treat dragons with respect and she wouldn’t dare do anything different, knowing their power and strength.