Damane

[Robert]

Ellisande was damane. She had been torn away from the man she loved most in her life, and she saw no way out of being damane. There was no way out. No way.

She was on a ship, on her way to Seanchan. She was sick and nauseous, both from seasickness and the fact she had fruitlessly tried to channel her way out.

The adam around her neck trailed a leash leading up to a peg on the wall. She could not move that bracelet, only her sul'dam could move it. Her sul'dam. She gritted her teeth. She hated her sul'dam, hated her with every fiber of her being. The sul'dam treated her like a dog, walking her around the deck on her... leash... and even... petting her on the head. She hated the sul'dam. She hated the sul'dam. Geana was her name, and her specialty was... how did she put it? Oh, yes, "Retrieving the Lost damane." Much like the dogcatcher for a pound.

She was on her way to the court of the Nine Moons, and she was to be pampered, or so they said. She gritted her teeth harder than ever. They had said she would be treated well, because she could make a'dams. This she already knew, but it meant that she was putting more people into collars, supporting the system that she wished to destroy with all her heart. She hated the sul'dam. She hated that accursed sul'dam!

But she horrified herself with the thought, the true thought, that she was also coming to want her sul'dam's affection more. That she wanted the special pats, the special treats handed to her when she completed a particularly difficult task. That she could want any such thing appaled her. But it was true.

Drake, she thought desperately, please, get me out of this before I don't want you to any more. Please.

[Robert]

They had arrived in Seanchan. Rescue had not come. Ellisande despaired as she contemplated her future. She had come to the court of the Nine Moons by now, she had seen the wealth and riches of the Seanchan. She had realized how hopeless it was to resist them, that they would overrun the entire world before anyone could stop them.

She found going back to being leashed easier than she expected. Even after a year of freedom, she still remembered how to be damane. The adam had no need to train her, she was already trained to it. And she could only become a subservient damane. There seemed no other way out.

Indeed, there was no way out. She knew this for a fact, that there was no way out, no possibility of a life beyond aiding the Seanchan in all their endeavours.

So she got quite used to the collar in a short period of time, within a week she did not notice it around her neck, within a month, she stopped fighting the condesending loving the sul'dam gave her. She was marath'damane, One who must be leashed, and she knew that.

The leash was for her own good.

[Robert]

Weeks had past. Weeks. Two months with the collar on. And she was a good damane. A good damane. Her sul'dam, Geana, had her make a'dam for several weeks, just to exercise the Power in her, to show her how many damane there were, that she was not alone. And, of course, because she was good at it.

However, she was soon given a new task: extracting metal from ores to aid the seanchan in the righteous upcoming Corenne. She was good at that, too. She had overheard her sul'dam telling another sul'dam that she was the strongest in Earth they had ever seen. Strong in most everything, and the strongest ever seen in Spirit.

She was glad that she was able to help the Seanchan so much, with her massive abilities. It was satisfying to se a cartload of excellent quality steel depart from the building where she worked, seeing it off to be made into swords and pikes for the Seanchan army.

And every day, she came back to the kennels, petted by the sul'dam. Hoping, desiring deeply to be the best damane ever. She would be a good damane. She would work hard for her leash holder.

She was marath'damane, she who must be leashed.