~IC - Terror~
Her eyes flew open, immediately roused from her light slumber. The sunlight streaming through the russet leaves blinded her and she blinked, tilting her head back with a gasp as she felt the cold steel bite into the soft flesh of her throat. As her eyes began to clear, strong hands pulled a blindfold over her head, tying it off at the throat. She gasped again, drawing in a terrified breath to scream. A hand closed over her mouth, lips moving close to her ear, murmuring in a deep, cruel voice.
“If you scream, Shining One, I will slit your throat. And all of your commoners will be left alone. Stay still, bitch, and perhaps he will be easy on you.”
She nodded her head slowly, forcing her racing heart to slow, demanding that her mind remain calm. Hands lifted her in the air, binding her body, caressing her curves with hungry touches. Beneath the mask that hid her face, she bit her lip, not allowing them the satisfaction of a scream. Before she could think, react, she was placed atop a horse and tied to the saddle and they raced away, the warm sunlight fading as they road into a deep forest.
After what felt like an eternity, they stopped, and she was roughly pulled from the horse. She could not bite back a short scream as a man turned her, pushing her against a tree and pulling up her skirts with fevered motions. She screamed, struggling against him, gasping as she heard her assailant being struck.
The same deep, cruel voice spoke, “This bitch belongs to him. Try it again, and I will feed you your cock.” She shuddered, tears running down her face as a hand gently caressed her head. She twitched back and was awarded with a firm backhand. “Move, Shining One.”
She stumbled before them, forcing herself to calm her heart and lift her chin, defiantly. She was taken to a drafty room and pushed inside, the hood being pulled from her head. She spun, looking for a glimpse of her assailant, but all she saw was a length of fine blonde hair swept through the door. She rushed towards the door, her resolved crumbling as she beat upon the door, sinking against it, sobs wracking her body. After a time she rose, walking the length of her small cell. In the corner, there was a basin of fresh water and she took the time to wash her face, freshening up as best she could. She moved to the table with the two chairs and sat, back straight, hands folded in her lap...and she waited.
The hours passed slowly as she watched the full moon rise outside her window. As the moon reached her apex she heard footsteps approaching her cell. She stood swiftly, standing, waiting for her fate. A terribly beautiful young man entered the room, watching her. He was flanked on either side by a scowling, cruel looking redcap. The Sidhe stood there, watching her for a long moment, his arms crossed on his chest.
“He will see you now.” She looked up at the man, her heart sinking in her chest slightly as she saw the cruel look in her eyes. She nodded her head once and took a step forward, her chin held high. One of the redcaps stepped forward, manacles held in his hand.
Rowena scowled and looked to the Sidhe, lifting a brow, “I step to my fate willingly. You will not chain me.”
The Sidhe smirked to her and nodded to the Redcap. The nightmare backed away, his scowl deepening as she shot daggers towards her. “Very well then. Step with me, Baroness.”
She steeled herself, stepping between the Redcaps, ignoring their gaze and walking behind the man. She held her body rigid, reminding herself with every step, 'I am a Noble of the Dreaming...I serve my people...I serve the Dreaming...I serve the Seelie court. I am Dougal, I am strong. Nothing will break me...cannot break me.' She was led into a massive, drafty hall, the skylight showing her the moon at its apex. Rowena sighed softly, fearing that this would be her last moonlit night.
The Sidhe man looked to her for a moment, giving her upper arm a gentle squeeze before turning and flying from the room, his lackeys in tow. She stood still, her eyes roaming around the room. She felt a breeze behind her and before she could say anything, a hand was around her throat. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her body tensed, closing her eyes allowing a brief prayer to flee from her mind as she stood still. An eternity passed before a voice murmured against her ear, hot breath pressing against her skin. Her skin crawled as she heard the now familiar, much hated voice speak, "Welcome. You are mine now, little one."
She stood still, her chin still tilted up, her eyes following him as he loosened the grasp on her throat, moving into her view. Harroth leered at her, reaching out a gloved hand to stroke her left cheek...almost lovingly, before loosing a sharp slap upon her flesh. She bit her lip, rocking back, refusing to cry out. He moved through the hall, the moonlight seeming to strengthen as he walked away from her. She clenched her hands, her fingernails digging into her palms as she watched him pull the black velvet away from an Interociter, pushing a button. For a brief moment, tears stung the corners of her eyes as she realized that she would die in this hall, beneath the full moon...for all of Concordia to witness.
She glanced around the room for a brief moment, never allowing her gaze to fully leave him. He approached her slowly, a cruel leer upon his lips. She let out a small shaky breath, and held her ground, watching him, her eyes level with his.
He spoke, the raspy mechanic voice filling the great hall. “What? You have no fight, little bird? You will not fly at me or use your arts against me?”
She looked him in the eye, letting a very soft smile fall upon her lips. She could not stop the racing of her heart, but she tried to appear calm, “I will not give you the satisfaction of it, Mute.”
He smirked and took another step forward, reaching out a hand to gently caress one of her curls, “Such a beautiful little bird...what a shame...what a terrible shame.”
She stood still as he ran his fingertips up over the welt he left on her cheek. A shudder ran through her body as she bit her lower lip. The mute laughed, a horrible sound that reverberated throughout the hall. She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the scene, thinking of Miracle and Jack, longing for them.
As she stood still, again, she felt the hot breath on her cheek. At the same moment, she felt the tip of a blade run down the side of her neck, towards her breasts. The voice spoke, softer this time, “You will scream, little bird. You will scream like Maetremo screamed. You will scream like Naesin and Jack will scream when I take them. You will whimper and cry like Miracle. And you, little bird, will fall on your knees and beg for death...just like your father did. Oh yes, we shall have fun.” She bit the inside of her cheek, her facade betrayed by a slight tremble in her body. She struck her with the flat of the blade, and the world went dark.
She awoke still in the hall, the breeze touching her bare skin and making her shiver. The mute had hung her by her wrists, her feet barely touching the ground. As she surveyed her scene, she closed her eyes, biting back a single choked sob. From the darkness, a figure emerged, clothed entirely in black. She raised her eyes, looking to him, her body trembling slightly. Death, she could handle...torture was a slightly different subject...
Harroth stepped to her, slowly running a hand over her bare body, his lips drawn back in a smile...a feral look about him as he felt her curves. Her body tensed at the first touch, and she struggled to twist away from him. With a growl, he clutched her throat, swiftly cutting of her airflow as he touched her. She gasped for her breath, forcing herself to stop her movements. He loosened the hand on her throat slightly, continuing to examine her body. She let out a little gasp, and a soft, “No!”, as his hand wandered to her nether regions, examining her. At the word, his grasp on her throat tightened once again, cutting off her airflow. He held her there, molesting her with one hand, choking her with the other. Her world swam before her, taking on a hazy black quality.
As though he knew, he stopped, gently petting her hair. She gasped, her air coming in long wheezy draws. She could not stop her body as tears began to flow down her cheeks. She turned her head away from him, trying to hide her fear.
He took her by the jaw, holding her face, looking into her eyes and smiling, “You are mine, little bird. We shall have fun, won't we?” He slowly licked her tears, letting out a sound that would be a giggle, were it anyone else.
She trembled, the fear radiating off of her. Harroth chuckled, slapping her ass and moving away so that she was again bared for all on the Interociter to see. She held her head high despite the tremble, determined to be strong.
Her eyes followed the man as he slowly walked around her. She heard something being uncovered and her body tensed again. Her back exploded in a bloom of pain, and she bit her lip, biting off the scream. Again, he brought the lash down upon her back. Over and over again he brought the item down upon her back, butt, and legs. She felt hot blood running down her body, glancing down at the floor to see a pool of liquid forming already. She gasped at the pain, tears running down her face as she bit into her lip, drawing blood from yet another wound. He moved to the front of her, the moonlight shining on his face as he showed her the torture weapon, the small barbs of glass glistening with her blood.
She could not hold back a soft groan of pain as he slowly ran his gloved hands over the wounds on her back, moving in front of her to slowly smear her breasts with the blood from the wounds.
Her torture continued for hours, days, months, eternities. She lost all track of time, and pain became the only constant in her life. Whenever she was near death, he would heal her enough to continue. But she refused to scream, she refused to give in. The tears ran freely, but she would not let him beat her.
He stood before her, slowly lifting her chin so she could look into his eyes. His patience had run thin. He wanted her to put on a good show for Concordia...he wanted her to scream and beg. She was putting a crimp in his plans, and it made him unhappy. He slapped her, full across the face, growling, “You will scream, bitch. You will cry and whimper and you will beg for my blade.” She looked at him calmly, her breath labored from the broken ribs that had punctured a lung. Without a pause, she spit in his face, smiling a little as she watched her blood run down his chin. He hit her again, his beating fierce.
He ravaged her body with his hands, his blades. He recorded his minions raping and beating her. Still, she did not scream out. She swam in and out of consciousness, every action recorded by the Interociter, to be used to further break Concordia.
On the sixth day, she awoke to hear the Mute calling to her gently. His face swam into view and her eyes wandered around, noting that she was in a real room...in a real bed...and her wounds had been carefully tended. He looked at her and smiled. Something in the look was wrong...and Rowena's heart sank into her chest.
“Well, little bird. You are going home. Apparently, I cannot break you, and I have no desire to further waste my time.” He put out a hand to touch her head and she flinched away from him, pain and fear in her eyes. “Now, now child. I am letting you go, I am letting you walk free. Your beloved Miracle, Jack, and Naesin have made me an offer I cannot refuse. You will walk out of here of your own volition.”
With that, a warm heather balm caressed her body, healing all wounds. She bit her lip again, her brow furrowed, not in pain, but in relief. He stood and offered her a hand. She paused, and looked to him, disbelief in her face. He took her hand and gently guided her to her feet. She bit her lower lip gently, shuddering, looking up to him.
“What do you want...?” He laughed, a genuine sound, and gently touched her cheek, “Why, little bird, I only want to see you go home. Come...eat.”
He led her to a table and she sighed softly at the sight of food. She sat carefully and looked at what was around her, looking to him, waiting. He carefully picked a grape from her plate and popped it into his mouth, “See...it is fine. It is not poisoned. Now eat.”
She carefully popped a grape into her mouth, still watching him. She stopped and waited again, speaking tentatively, her voice raspy from disuse, “I would rather just leave, please.”
He smiled to her and thought for a moment, before nodding, “Of course, of course. There is just...one more point of business. It is a silly one, but I am sure you can understand it...” He leaned forward on his elbows, speaking conspiratorially like an old friend, “You must bow to me. Nothing more, nothing less. Just fall to your knees before me...just once.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head firmly, “Never.'”
He sighed, a sad look upon his face, “Then I suppose we shall have to resume our activities of the past week. I am sure that you can understand my situation, my dear. I have no desire to hurt you further, but you must go to your knees before me. And once you have, you may leave. Never to see this face again...” She shuddered, looking down at her plate, her face a mask. She spoke softly, her voice cracking just slightly. “Please...let me go...”
The mute watched her and smiled, standing again and helping her up, leading her through the keep towards the large main doors. She glanced behind her once as a small creature scurried behind them. As they walked, he spoke in pleasant tones, the normal pleasantry observed by the Sidhe.
He stopped just outside the main doors and lay a hand on either arm, gesturing towards a mare, saddled and ready. “You have rations in the saddle bag. The horse is fresh, my fastest mare. She will take you to a nearby Inn, where you will stay the night, and then take a fresh horse and return home.”
She looked at the horse for a long moment, her breath quickening, before looking up to him, the facade of her face crumbling, and a look of pure joy entered her eyes, “You are truly letting me go...?”
He laughed again, and nodded, “Yes, little bird. But you know your duty, first.”
She paused and looked to him, “Your word. Give me your word that you will let me go home.”
He smiled and nodded, “Of course. I give you my word, Lady, that I will send you home.” She listened to his words and then nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. As he watched she slowly, shakily, fell to her knees. She glanced up, her heart breaking as she saw the look of triumph upon her face.
She uttered a short scream as the two Redcaps jerked her to her feet, dragging her back a short ways, she watched him, screaming at him, “You gave me your word!” He let out a short, cruel laugh, drawing a sword from his side...a sword that she recognized. Her fathers’ sword.
He stepped before her, glancing around once to the Interociter and smiling evilly. “I gave you my word that I would send you home. I did not say that I would send you home alive.” Her eyes flew open and she could not stifle the scream as he thrust the sword into her midsection. The Redcaps held her still, three others joined them as Harroth continued to cut and slash at her midsection, removing her organs and forcing her eyes up to watch the nightmares eat them.
The screams died short in her throat as he removed her heart, sampling the organ himself. He turned to look at the Interociter and laughed cruelly, pointing the weapon at the screen. The Redcaps drug the body to the mare, lashing her down and hitting the creature, sending her into the distance.
Rowena awoke from her dream, the tears streaming down her face. She turned and gently stroked Miracle's face, sighing softly down to her fiancée. She would not give in, she would never falter.