News and Abuse

It took a few days before Lieve had recovered well enough from the cuts and bruises her father had given her for her last truancy. She went to sit at her favourite spot in front of the fireplace in the common room of the Pony and found three unusual looking people standing there. One she recognised as being a hobbit, another she knew to be a dwarf. The third she took for a tall slender woman. She found out the hobbit was named Garradoc, the dwarf was named Dreni Kindvoice, but she never did catch the name of the strange woman. They kindly asked her what brought her to the Pony. She explained how she often came to the Pony to see if there were any letters from her brother Dalgaroth. One of them thought they recognised the name and asked if he wasn't in the Guard. Lieve nodded. 'I may have heard something about him, there was fighting and I think he was helping defend.' They spoke for a time together, exchanging information and Lieve came to the conclusion that it must have been Dalgaroth. If only he were safe! They assured her that he had seemed in perfect health the last time they had seen him and she breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, her captain acquaintance walked into the room with a lute under his arm. He put it against a pillar and ordered a drink. Lieve politely excused herself from the three and went over to where he was standing. 'Greetings sir,' she said. 'How are you this evening?' The man looked up. The scar was as noticeable as ever and Lieve winced slightly. However, she was determined not to be put off by outward appearances and stayed where she was. 'Lieve isn't it?' he said with a glint in his eye. Lieve curtseyed gracefully. 'Might I listen to you play again tonight?' she asked politely. 'Of course,' he answered and picked up the lute. She was reminded of Dalgaroth, who also played the lute, very well indeed. The captain played as brilliantly this time as the last, the tunes chasing the time away merrily. And far too quickly. Before she realised it, it had gotten dark. She quickly made excuse and ran to the door. Her father was waiting for her. This time he took his time hurting her, first tying her hands firmly with some old hemp then dragging her across the floor, kicking her in the stomach a few times along the way. She struggled uselessly. 'Lieve, Lieve, Lieve, what are we going to do with you...' he sneered at her. She tried to curl into a ball to protect herself from the worst of the attacks but it only served to make him kick her harder as she was hindering his progress. 'I've been thinking about that quite a lot lately.' He aimed another kick at her stomach, but her arm was in the way. A red lump appeared on it that would later turn into an ugly bruise. 'You'll be eighteen next year, so I've decided you'll be most use if you marry my business associate. That'll keep him happy and I'll be rid of you, not to mention he will feel obliged to come to me first with any new wines or ales he finds. It's a win-win situation for the both of us.' Her father smirked, satisfied with his plan. Lieve's heart sank. She knew the man he had in mind. A fifty year old merchant, old and ugly and as tightfisted as her father. He picked up an old paddle, used for stirring vats and hit her on her back until his arms grew tired. When he grunted with each stroke, he sounded just like a rutting pig. 'Now get cleaned up and ready for bed. No dinner for you because you couldn't be bothered to show up on time for it,' he said as he untied her hands. She could barely stand, but somehow managed to, staggering to her room and falling into bed, pulling the covers over her and lying on her stomach as still as she could to ease the pain until she fell into an exhausted sleep.