Everything felt too close without wind to stir the damp, chill air and far too barren without plant life and the scurry of small animals or insects. There was a significant sense of absence about the place.
It made all the small noises that normally went unnoticed seem louder. The rustle of fabric, the creak of wood as the cart rolled over the cavern floor, the swish of my loose hair as I turned my head to look around. The elves’ voices were even low, as if they were afraid to disturb the unnerving silence all around us. Aside from the elves and their horses, there was no life there. Nothing but dirt and stone and damp. A tomb.
I’d go mad living in such a place.
The cart came to a halt and a pair of shadowy hands reached for me. My stomach twisted, but they only untied my ankles and steadied me by the elbow while I climbed down from the cart. I didn’t bother to waste energy on fighting. There was little enough of that to spare. A second elf took my other elbow and guided me into a broad, arched tunnel carved into the nearby cave wall. It was lined with doors and frequently intersected with other tunnels. My feet stumbled beneath me, struggling to keep up with their pace. Eventually they shoved me into a small, dim chamber that smelled of clean water and soap. Another elf arrived with a set of clean clothes and shoved them in my arms before leaving.
“You stink,” the first of my captors said. “Wash and dress in clean clothes.”
I wanted to be insulted, but he wasn’t wrong.
“I need more light than this,” I grumbled. “I can't see what I’m doing.”
The elf closed himself in the room with me and I watched him warily.
“I could wash you instead,” he suggested and twitched as though he were going to reach for me. I took a sluggish step back. He grinned, teeth bright in his dark face, but didn’t otherwise move.
He was teasing me!
The prick.
“Not if you want to keep all your fingers.” I snapped my teeth together, the clack sharp in the silence.
He huffed a laugh, and the lights went out. Rough hands caught my wrists and undid the ropes binding them. I dropped the bundle of clothing in my arms and threw my hands out to push him away, but they only met empty air. The light came back up, white this time instead of dim blue, just bright enough that I could see details. There was a dressing table of sorts with bottles and towels stacked beside a small wash basin and a larger wooden tub opposite it. It was a typical washroom. The exception, though, were metal pipes jutting out from the ceiling. They ran along the wall ending right over the lip of the tub.
I turned back to the elf and found him watching me with large, orange eyes seated in a handsome, heart shaped face. His skin wasn’t quite as dark as Lhoris’, nor was he as filled out, though they had to be close in height. It gave him a gaunt, underfed look, giving me the impression of hunger or desperation. The way strands of his long silver hair had come free of his topknot and fallen over his shaved sides and face only reinforced the impression.
“What’s that?” I asked my captor cautiously, gesturing to the pipes with a tilt of my head.
He scoffed. “Humans don’t have indoor water?”
“I wouldn’t ask if they did,” I muttered, feeling like an idiot. I’d heard that some of the magic folk had a way to conjure water, but I assumed it would require, well, magic. Maybe it still did, even if I couldn’t smell it.
“Humans are disgusting,” he shook his head. “This water system is a dwarven invention, and no, I don’t know exactly how it works,” he explained and summoned the water by turning a little lever at the end of the pipe. It flowed into the wooden bathtub below. “This one’s cold water; the other is hot.”
He turned the lever on the second pipe and hot water eventually started pouring from it. “Enjoy it now. You’ll only have cold water in your room for drinking and cleaning.”
Then he stepped away and just stood there, as though waiting for me to disrobe and use the tub.
“We’ll be standing here until one of us dies of age if you think I’m going to strip down in front of you,” I grumped at him, the words heavy with disdain. “There’s only the one door and I don’t think I’ll fit in the pipes.”
Lhoris told me once that the males in this place were starved of female companionship. I’d rather not let them think I was easy to maneuver. He laughed and backed out of the room. The lock clicked and I was finally alone.
I picked up the clean clothes and put them on the dressing table before stripping out of the soiled ones. There was a bottle of lavender scented bath oil next to the basin that I had no intention of using. Washing away the filth they’d left me in was the best these bastards would get. I picked up a lump of unscented soap from the bottom of the basin and a comb that was tangled in the clothes before climbing into the tub.
I took my time enjoying the bath. It didn’t compare to the hot spring, but the heated water did ease some of my discomfort. I took my time teasing the knots out of my hair before getting it wet and lathering it up. Then I did as the pervy elf had suggested and simply enjoyed relaxing in the heat.
The water was just starting to cool when there was the jingle of keys and click of the lock. I sunk down into the water so all he’d see were my eyes as I peered over the lip of the tub.
“Hurry up! The commander is impatient,” pervy-elf snapped.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Prolonging my bath time would likely end in being manhandled out of it. There was no point in giving him the tart reply readied on the tip of my tongue. “Fine,” I said with a scowl. He stood, waiting. “Shoo,” I flicked a hand, flinging tepid water across the room. Droplets hit pervy-elf in the face. He sputtered and cursed before retreating back to the corridor.
I waited for the sound of the lock before I stood to dry off and dress. They’d given me an oversized cotton tunic, trousers, and socks. Of course, not a single undergarment to be found. “I swear I’ve never had such a hard time with underclothes until these ridiculous elves came along,” I complained to myself while rolling up the pant waist so the crotch didn’t sag to my thighs.
At least the clothes were clean, though they did have a trace of human scent deep in the fibers. I paused for a moment to look down at myself and wondered if I was wearing the clothes of a dead man—a chilling thought I didn’t care to linger on.
The knives were missing from my boots, but the thin strip of leather concealing the lockpicks had gone unnoticed! Grinning at my first bit of good luck in a long while, I pulled the boots on and moved to call “Let's get this over with” through the door.