"Purchase" by Lyndsay E. Gilbert aka Liadan

Brook of the Dead Waters, Mercenary Thief Lord of the highest calibre strolled at leisure along the line of women that were presented to him.  He had intended not to buy himself anything that day, and had come to the market in search of a client.  Despite having wealth enough, Brook knew that his men needed a mission to keep their restless feet from fleeing and, more importantly, to keep them from baying at each others throats. 

Having achieved what he had set out to do, and found a client with danger enough to keep his men intrigued and reward enough to have their tents coated in gold, Brook decided to indulge in a treat.  He was sure his men would appreciate such uncommon generosity from their lord, their spirits would be high and keen to embark upon adventure, and he was sure they would be in the mood for celebrating.  He supposed it might be his turn to supply entertainment.

The Slave Trade had appeared at the market as was traditional, and upon seeing Brook they had tended to him before the others, knowing that he was a favourable customer and that they would make a decent deal with him, as always.

He had informed them, much to their disappointment that he would buy only one slave this day, but that he would pay opulently for something exotic.  He did not intend to traffic this one.  It was only fair to give himself a personal pleasure now and again, and his last had broken easily.  Some pleasures were delicate indeed.

This ‘something exotic’ was not presenting itself readily and Brook strolled for some time, becoming bored, past reams of women, all aesthetically pleasing and surprisingly healthy (he determined a newly captured collection), but none caught his eyes as a rarity.

He was a great collector, understanding the subtleties of what was fashionable and what was not, for what was original and what was another generic work of the sculptor gods.

Some showed a hint of rebellion, a trait he found agreeable in a woman that should be worth some amusement.  The height of such rebellions came in the form of scathing glares which Brook met with an arrogant smile, before noting down their number tag and continuing down the line.  He had acquired the numbers of only four before he reached the ending.  It was then that he caught sight of her.

It was startling to see a young Seelie elf in the midst of such a scene. Being so far from home, and so young was most certainly not a custom amongst any elf, whether Seelie or Unseelie.  Brook, himself a young Elf understood the rarity of such a sight.  He had run for many months from his place in the court of the Unseelie dark elves.   And he was a man.  Made for the warrior life he had struck into of his own accord. 

Brutal life was not at all for the fair, sweet women of Seelie, and he thought this with a smirk upon his lips.  Had the poor little thing been captured by the Slave Trade wandering lost and from her people?

His thoughts of sweet and fair seemed altogether too far away to describe such a vicious sight.  He had never before heard such coarse language streaming from the mouth of a lady whose tongue was meant for tranquil elven chants.  It intrigued him beyond measure. 

He watched as she fought the captors with abandon, scratching at their faces, throwing two to the ground and fending herself from the attack of three more men at once.  She was strong he thought…for a woman.

“I think I will take this one.”  He said, pointing at the girl in the tent, “It should suit, we are both Elven.”

“She is wild, my Lord.  We thought it best to break her before we sell her…”

Brook smiled thinly, “Are you saying I couldn’t handle a female elf, sir?”

The man shook his head profusely, “No, not at all my Lord…”  He bowed stepping towards the tent and speaking to the men there in a language that Brook was not familiar with.  The men fell away and he turned towards Brook, motioning for him to take the girl himself. 

Brook raised an eyebrow haughtily and went towards her with a proud stride, “If I take her, do I get her for free?”  He asked with a laugh.  But did not hear the answer as the girl bared her teeth in an almost animalistic fashion and launched at him.  She was not quick enough to miss the poisoned dart her threw at her, and seconds later, she slumped the floor with paralysed legs, “Cheating rat.”  She hissed in the Seelie elven tongue.

Brook looked at her with an expression of feigned innocence, “Me?” 

She spat at his feet and he laughed cheerfully, “Dear girl, I’m giving you a chance to become my slave…it’s an honour really.  Would you rather stay with these low class traders?”

She glared up at him, “An honour to warm your bed is that?”

He flashed another smile, “What else could you be good for woman?”  He asked, taking pleasure in the angry blush that rose to her cheeks.  She glowered silently.

“If you stay still the potion will wear off within minutes.  I wasn’t about to embarrass you with a pathetic fight.”

“You mean, you weren’t about to let yourself be embarrassed Thief Whore.” Her beautiful blue eyes blazed at him from behind dishevelled gold brown bangs.

He knelt down beside her, taking from his pocket a binding collar, “This will make sure you don’t run off on the way home.”  He struck her pretty face once, “And I’m not a whore.  Such filthy language from an Elf…it astounds me truly.”