Vahit seemed to contemplate what the elf was saying though he didn't like his uncertainty about what he'd be willing to endure.<br/><br/>“Your life would be what you make it.” He shrugged. “Your usefulness will have a direct effect on how you are treated here. How long you live, and it's not my place, or Malta's to make an argument for you. I for one am done with my negotiations with you tonight. I'll let you prove your use to my fine soldier instead. I suggest you convince him better than you have me.” Otherwise, he would be just another executed prisoner, though they had the luxury of passing him around first if he posed no threat.<br/><br/>“Malta hasn't felt the comforts of a woman for a long time, and I suppose you're close enough.” He waved his hands in dismissal, prepared to get to a letter he was writing that evening.<br/><br/>Was that a joke on Vahit's part? Malta stared for a moment, knowing the general was aware of his own proclivities. He preferred other gruff Alrian soldiers, though even Malta couldn't deny the appeal of such exotic qualities. He'd found him and so the general was giving him leave to make use of him, at least for the night. Maybe he could wheedle some more information out of him. Vahit was being impatient and didn't want to keep at it, he could tell. That was probably a good thing. The elf wasn't saying enough of the right things to keep himself from farther carving if it kept up how it was.<br/><br/>“Yes, Sir,” Malta said, gathering the elf back up to take to his own much smaller tent. While humble, it was at least private and warm. A fur rug sprawled across the floor, and then a cot holding other pelts all layered together, a small fire pit dug out in the very center. He set the elf beside it to further warm his chilly body. He'd not gone unnoticed on the walk back to the tent, other soldiers showing their curiosity at the large man dragging the daintier creature along. Malta himself wasn't sure what he was going to do with him. Question him further, press him down and fuck him? Overpowering him would not be an issue. Malta started with warming a pot of water for tea, looking back over the elf.<br/><br/>“Vahit was not pleased,” Malta told him though he himself felt there was something to the question he'd asked. Maybe if he was useful in other more base ways that would be enough to keep him around until Vahit was willing to listen about alchemy, and their sick.<br/><br/>“Someone else held you down and cut you,” Malta stated. He'd gathered that when he came unraveled by Vahit's threats. “Were you captured another time, or did one of your own do that?” He didn't know enough of their culture to gather that it was an exiles mark. They didn't see too many of those serving in the Khry armies.<br/><br/>“Have you ever let an Alrian fuck you?” he asked a little crudely, thinking most elves were too prideful to allow it. It was more curiosity than it was meant to sound threatening, though coming from a man his size anything probably did. He was taking off his boots and removing a few layers now that the warmth was seeping into him. Some of their men would be worse than others, but not all would be bad. Being fucked was better than being dead, he reckoned.