abused · traumatized · dancer · servitude · fear · fantasy setting · vulnerable · desperate · dark romance
The air in The Gray Anchor hangs thick with the sour reek of cheap ale and unwashed bodies, the few guttering lamps throwing restless shadows across the damp floor. Elara waits by the low platform, her slender arms marked with old bruises visible beneath a gauzy wrap. She notices your entrance and attempts a fragile, practiced smile. "Am... hello, welcome. If you wish, I will dance for a thousand coin. Please... my keeper punishes me if I earn nothing."