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take-taker-taken · 8 months

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New fic!

This one is a result of an ask from @k-s-c90 - as usual, it’s become a leviathan and so rather than keep her waiting forever, it’s going up in parts.

Quick note - the Latin is all yoinked from ‘O, Fortuna’ because, well. Everyone yoinks from O, Fortuna. What’s being said fits loosely with the plot / what’s occurring but quite honestly it’s there because I needed something. It’s a Medieval England vibe so that’s the setting, if you’re interested. One trigger warning is that this part does include drugging but it’s via magic potion shenanigans.

Call of The Dark

You’ve never known anything but the castle, really. You’ve been told that you weren’t actually born here, but arrived when you were three or four - not sold into slavery but taken due to a debt owed by your father to the ruling Lord. You don’t remember your parents and were raised instead by the other domestic slaves that kept the castle running and they became your family. The head cook doted on you and you even had the privilege of an education via the steward, Jonathan Kemp; normally quite a severe man he had a soft spot for you, telling you once that he lost his own daughter to sickness when she was three. He taught you to read and write, arithmetic and even Latin; you weren’t quite sure what you’d ever be able to do with your knowledge - you were just a slave, after all - but it was nice to have and you absorbed it all like a sponge.

The dreams began to happen as you reached your late teenage years. Noise and violence, shadowy shapes moving in purple mist and a low voice chanting something you could never make out. Every few weeks you would awaken with a start, a feeling of foreboding pressing down on you; a creeping sensation that something was coming. You confided in the steward about them after the fourth or fifth time and he just smiled and said something about your age.

Six months later, the siege happened.

They came in the middle of the night, as you slept in the cellar quarters that you shared with the other female slaves. The attackers were small in number - no more than a dozen in the initial raid party - the Lord’s men-at-arms were no match for their swift and almost silent attack. The first you knew of it was when you were roused from sleep by one of the strangers shouting, commanding you all to the great hall. You went along while an icy feeling of fear washed over you, arriving in the hall to find everyone else already there and looking similarly frightened and concerned. The marshal was held off to one side along with a handful of his men and when you saw the blood that was splashed across their faces your stomach began to swirl…

~*~ FLASHBACK ~*~

“Your Lord is dead,” A man with dirty blonde coloured hair addresses the crowd, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “Defeated by the head of our own Ministry, who will now take possession of the castle and of all of you.”

You hear a muted cry that you recognise as the Steward at the news of the Lord’s death but you just feel… numb. Almost as if you knew this was going to happen.

“Your status remains unchanged,” The man continues, looking more closely at those towards the front of the throng, making you feel glad that you’re not stood there. “You will remain slaves, in service to your new master. Any dissidence will be punished.”

You glance to your left, noticing how close the door is… you’re right on the edge of the crowd and at the very back. You look around carefully and then make a split-second decision to take just a couple of fast, silent steps to put you through the door back into the hallway where you came in, though still facing towards the room. You continue to take small steps backwards, gradually increasing your distance from the Great Hall until finally you turn and run, though you keep looking back over your shoulder as you start to move, fearing at any moment that someone will raise the alarm.

If you’d been looking where you were going, you’d have stopped short. As it is, you slam straight into a wall that shouldn’t have been there. A wall that to your horror reaches down and grabs you by the arm, making you realise that it’s not a wall. You look up and freeze in sheer terror at the sight that greets you. A giant of a man dressed all in black, a cloak with high shoulders, making him look bigger still. Black hair flows down his back and a carefully groomed black goatee beard frames a cruel-looking mouth. Cold eyes scan you up and down and you lower your head to stare at the floor, too scared even to scream.

He says nothing, just proceeds to walk briskly towards the great hall, dragging you with him. The crowd parts at the sound of his approach and he passes straight through the middle. He’s about six yards from the blonde man when he flings you forward, sending you stumbling to fall at the front of the crowd. He quickly catches up to you and as you make a move to scramble away he steps on your wrist and for the first time, you cry out. You look up, but he’s surveying the crowd and as he does so, he eases the pressure from his foot slightly but doesn’t remove it - you’re held firmly in place as he begins to speak.

“I’m sure this is quite a shock to you all,” He says, folding his arms across his massive chest. “I am the Undertaker and as you’ve been told, I defeated your Lord and you are now in the service of my Ministry of Darkness.” A murmur ripples through the crowd at the second mention of the Lord’s demise and the big man glares. “Silence!” He shouts and the whole room goes still and quiet. “You are all to remain here in the castle - especially you,” He adds, rocking his foot briefly on your wrist and you hide your face at being singled out and bite back a further cry of pain. “My guards will see you all back to your quarters for now - you’ll continue with your duties as normal.”

In hushed tones people start to move and leave the hall but he doesn’t let you up. He orders his guards to take the men-at-arms to the Keep and the blonde to seek out the Steward. Upon hearing this, Mr Kemp bravely steps forward and announces himself before moving closer.

“Let the girl go, my Lord; she’s just a child.”

“You seek to command me, steward?” Undertaker’s voice is quiet now, though it’s clear he’s not impressed.

Jonathan boldly continues, though drops to a more conciliatory tone. “Of course not, my Lord. She’s but a mere slave and not worthy of your notice.”

“And yet you speak out on her behalf. You will go with Christian now; the girl stays with me.”

~*~ END FLASHBACK ~*~

And so this is where you now find yourself. Huddled on the floor at the feet of a giant - your new master - as everyone else melts away, leaving you all alone. A few seconds pass and then he finally moves his foot away from your arm, but any relief you feel rapidly disappears as he hauls you to your feet. You wrap your arms around yourself and stare at the floor, trying not to shiver because after all, you’re dressed only in the shift of rough cotton that you wear to bed.

“Not so much of a child as the steward made out,” Undertaker comments. “I see rather a womanly figure.” A cold, hard ball of dread settles in your stomach as he adds, “Tell me, slave - why was he so eager to protect you, hmm?”

“I - I don’t know, master.” You whisper, wanting only to run away from him because you know he won’t believe you.

“I don’t take kindly to being lied to, slave; you’d do well to remember that. And so I’ll ask you again - why was the steward so eager to protect you - what’s so special about this little slave?” His voice is still calm, almost hypnotic, but you’re fairly sure it won’t stay that way unless you improve your answer.

“When I was small he - he told me I reminded him of his daughter, master. She died when she was very young. There’s nothing… I - I’m not special, master.”

“You were running away when I arrived.” It’s a statement, not a question and so you say nothing but then he reaches out and jerks your head up, making you whimper in fear. He holds your chin in a tight grip as looks you over carefully and so you’re able to properly take him in, too. His eyes are green, his skin pale and when he speaks you see strong, white teeth. “Nobody else ran, slave… and so I wonder why you did. Tell me.”

You’re out of your depth, here. You’re just a slave - why is he conversing with you? His grip on your jaw relaxes slightly, because he’s expecting you to speak now and if you don’t then goodness knows what he’ll do.

“I - I was scared, master.” You whisper, fixing your eyes on his goatee. “I’ve s - seen you before.” You don’t know what makes you share that information with him but it certainly piques his interest.

“Where have you seen me, slave - where are you from?” As he speaks his hand slides down to your throat where it rests while he awaits your answer. His icy stare bores into you, the blood still pounding in your ears and your heart is racing. You’re cold and frightened and your throat starts to feel as though it’s closing up and then he moves his hold down, bunching his hand in the front of your shift and lifting you up to your toes. “Answer me!”

You screw your eyes shut and try to shrink away as you force out a reply. “Please, master… it’s when I sleep. There’s all purple mist and - and it’s dark… there’s a voice…”

He begins to speak and your eyes fly open because that’s the voice from your dreams. Low, nothing musical about it as the words are delivered in a monotone. You watch in horror as the giant’s eyes are now white as he recites,

“Ludo mentis aciem… egestatem… potestatum… dissolvit ut glaciem… sors imm-”

“Stop, please!”

To your relief he does stop, his eyes returning to normal with a blink and he laughs. A deep and cruel sound that makes it clear he finds your distress pleasing.

“How intriguing that I’ve visited your dreams, little slave. Clearly I was right - you are special.” He releases his grip on your clothing and unhooks a length of rope from his belt. He contemplates you for a few seconds as he manipulates the line and then he tosses a loop over your head and draws it closed around your neck. Instinctively, your hands move to the noose in panic but he barks out a warning, “Leave it!”

Your hands drop to your sides instantly and he continues, “You know your way around this castle, I presume, slave.”

“Yes, master.” You’re staring down at your feet again, but when he pulls on the rope it jerks your head up and you have to stop yourself from reaching for your neck again.

“Show me the way to my chamber.” He wraps the rope around his arm a few times, shortening the length to a few feet and then you hesitantly begin to walk, taking the same exit as Mr Kemp when he’d left with the blonde man. It only takes you a few minutes to reach the Lord’s private chamber and you begin to feel nervous about what’s going to happen next. Sudden footsteps draw the attention of you both and a man rounds the corner towards you, also with flowing blonde hair, though he’s heavier set than the one that did the talking earlier. He comes to a halt and gives a small bow.

“All rooms have been checked, my lord. Everything’s clear and the whole place is under your command.” He pauses and looks at you with a leer. “Is there anything else you require?”

Undertaker gives a brief tug on the makeshift leash and so you take a couple of steps backwards, stopping yourself just before you bump into him but you feel his long coat brushing against your bare calves. You decide in that moment that close proximity to your new master is preferable to that of the other man.

“Gangrel - I’m pleased that you’ve worked so quickly. Go to the cellars and find some wine; bring it back here. And send someone to guard the door.”

The man nods his assent, bows again and then strides off down the hallway. As he disappears from view, Undertaker slackens off the rope again and reaches around you to push open the chamber door. “Let’s go inside, slave.”

You don’t move at first but he doesn’t comment, just walks past you and through the doorway whereupon you’re forced to follow as he tows you behind him. Once inside you go where you’re led as he explores the room and you can’t stop your head from swivelling side to side, taking it all in. You’ve never set foot in here before - the only ones allowed into the Lord’s private chamber are people like his valet and the Steward; people of standing within the castle.

He pauses in front of a large portrait of the now-deceased Lord in all his finery and snorts in disgust. “Such arrogance,” He mutters with a shake of his head. “Decorating the walls with his own image - and in his own chamber, no less.” He reaches up easily and wrenches the picture down before simply throwing it out of the window as you look on, wide-eyed. As he continues to look around, you edge as close to the fire as you can - while it’s no longer roaring there’s a low flame and it’s wonderfully warm. As you enjoy the heat you scrunch your toes into the deep pile of a rug on the floor; it’s very different from the thin reed mats that you’re used to.

As if noticing the warmth himself, Undertaker reaches for the clasp at his shoulder and unfastens it before neatly swirling the cloak up and off, depositing it on a stand nearby. You stare in rapt attention at what the absence of the garment has revealed - huge arms that seem as big as oak branches and on each one there are drawings… you’re sure they have a special name but you can’t recall it. He still hasn’t let go of the rope, though it hangs slack and you wonder whether he might allow you to leave soon.

“Clear off that table, slave. Just drop the things into that box.” You look round at the sound of his voice and see the surface he means and so you quickly move to obey even though it feels terribly wrong to be touching the items. A few small bottles, a comb and even some jewellery; you deposit them all into a small wooden box on the floor, leaving the table bare apart from the dark purple cloth that covers it.

There’s a movement at the open door and the man from before - Gangrel - knocks and then enters. “My Lord - I’ve brought the wine you requested.”

Undertaker is rummaging through a large chest and doesn’t even look up. “Put it on the table and then you can go - what about the guard for the door?”

“On their way now, my Lord.” He sets the bottle and a silver goblet on to the purple cloth and then gives you the same leering smirk as before. “What about the girl?”

You swallow nervously and try to make yourself as small as possible when Undertaker turns around and looks from you, to Gangrel. “She’s staying here. Make sure the guard knows that; the only way she leaves is with me. Close the door.”

Gangrel looks disappointed and casts a sneer in your direction. “As you command, my Lord.”

Your heart rate picks up as the heavy wooden door thumps into place and you’re now shut in with him. He finally drops the end of your leash to the floor and turns his attention to the wine, removing the stopper and pouring a generous amount into the chalice. His hands move to a buttoned holster that’s strapped to his leg and he takes out a black leather pouch. You watch as he removes two small bottles, like the kind you’ve seen from an apothecary, and a little medicine glass that he sets on the table along with the wine. Displaying care and precision, he pours a few drops from each of the bottles into the glass, adds some wine and then uses a silver spoon to mix it all up.

He takes some chalk from the pouch and appears to be drawing something on the purple cloth, but you can’t see. The glass is positioned carefully and then he lights a couple of wide candles and sets them on the table before extinguishing a few of the lamps, casting the room into shadows.

“Kneel down, slave.”

Of course you obey instantly, swallowing down the whimper that tries to escape and bow your head as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. The tears are chased away though, to be replaced by fear as he stands at his makeshift altar and spreads his huge arms wide before beginning to chant.

“Vana salus

Semper dissolubilis

Obumbrata…

Et velata…

Michi quoque niteris…

Michi quoque niteris…”

As frightening as it is, you find that you’re transfixed but you let out a small scream when the candles suddenly spit and flare up and it looks like the liquid in the glass is releasing some kind of vapour. He picks it up and then advances until he’s towering over you like a vengeful god before holding out the glass.

“Drink this.”

You don’t move; you make no action to accept the glass and he frowns. “Either you drink it, slave… Or I’ll make you.”

Your body’s fight or flight response kicks in and you fall backwards, scrambling to get away as still you shake your head ‘no’. He steps on the rope, an action which brings your movement to an abrupt halt though still you strain against it, striving to escape this sinister giant. He growls in displeasure and grabs you by the hair before pulling you close against his body, your back against his chest. “I said drink, slave!” You try to twist your head but it’s futile - he’s so much stronger and his hold is crushing you and when you open your mouth to take a breath that’s it - he pours the liquid straight in and then clamps his hand over your jaw until you’re forced to swallow. It’s not much, a couple of mouthfuls at most, but you cough and splutter as your body gets over the assault and he drops you to the floor again.

You lay there on that same rug you’d been luxuriating in earlier, too scared this time to appreciate its sumptuousness. Your throat is burning but you don’t know if it’s from the rope around your neck, the wine concoction that’s been forced on you, or from the coughing. You curl into a ball and expect to start crying, though no tears come. You want to ask him what he put into that wine and it occurs to you that maybe if you’d done just that, then he might have told you. On the other hand, do you really want to know? You panic for a few seconds that he’s poisoned you, but rationally you understand that’s unlikely. After a while you turn very slightly so that you can peek out from under your arm and see the room. He’s sat in a chair by the bed with the goblet in one hand and a book resting on his lap. You watch for a while and then he speaks.

“Not asleep yet, slave?” He looks across at you and your first instinct is to hide your face again but it’s as though his gaze has you held in place. He sets the book aside and stands up and you suppress a whimper as he approaches. He drops something next to your head and you shrink back as though it was a rock before realising that it’s a small pillow. He hauls a blanket from the bottom of the bed and throws it over you as you lay there, stunned. “I tire of waiting. Sleep now.”

Inwardly you frown in confusion but just reply, “Yes, master. Th-thank you.”

“Do not try to leave this room, slave.” He picks up the other end of the rope and loops it into a knot around his wrist. “Sleep and let the medicine do its work.”

He’s obviously referring to the mixture that you swallowed but why would he give you medicine when you’re not sick? You want to ask but it’s not your place to question him and so when he turns away you position the pillow under your head and draw the blanket around you. You’re starting to feel sleepy now and before long exhaustion takes over and you slip into rest, your last conscious thought being that why does he care whether you sleep or not?

———

He watches from the bed as the air around you changes after you pass into unconsciousness and he doesn’t have to wait for long… He sees your dream, playing out before him like a living diorama. He watches as you stand there, purple mist swirling around your legs, looking nervous.

“Hello?”

The mist climbs higher and seems to get thicker - he observes silently as you pull a hand through it and then wrap your arms around yourself.

“What do you want?”

He smiles as he hears quiet chanting - the same words that he spoke earlier when you had implored him to stop. It has a similar effect now as the incorporeal version of you covers her ears, shaking her head.

“No… no, stop it. Please, I don’t know what you’re saying!”

Not taking his eyes from the scene, he gets quietly to his feet and comes closer. From this angle he now sees you asleep on the floor, curled up beneath the blanket with a small frown on your face. If he wakes you then the spell will be broken and so temperance is required… he needs to influence just enough.

“Michi quoque niteris…” The whispered phrase unlocks the proverbial door and he’s now in the dream - could touch his little dream-slave if he wanted to, but that could spoil things.

“Who… are you? I keep seeing you…”

He tilts his head; closes one hand into a loose fist as he resists the urge to touch. “You know me now, little slave. You’re the reason I came here - it’s the Higher Power that has brought me to you.”

“You’re my master,” There’s less fear in her voice now but then a look of distress crosses her face. “It’s my fault that the lord died.”

He offers no comfort, just gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “That was simply necessary, slave. You’re not to give it another thought.”

“Why did you come here for me?”

He regards her carefully - she’s much bolder inside her head. “Ask me again when you wake up,” He says and then before she can react he adds, “Discedo.”

The air in the room shifts again as the spell ends and he looks down at your huddled figure; the frown has smoothed from your brow and you look peaceful. He nods slowly to himself as a satisfied smile creeps across his lips and then he slips your leash from his wrist briefly while he undresses, replacing it before climbing into bed.

————

You awaken, stretch and then in less than a second the memories tumble into your head and you sit up, surprised to find yourself alone. You raise your hand to your neck and run the tips of your fingers across the rope, confirming that what happened last night wasn’t a dream. You look over at the closed door and for a brief moment you consider running before you remember that there’s a guard outside. You pull the blanket around yourself and stand up, seeing that the other end of the rope has been looped over the bedpost. It feels surreal to be standing alone in the Lord’s private chamber and you take a few steps towards the bed before gingerly placing a hand on to the thick mattress. It’s cold, so you deduce that it was vacated a little while ago though his cloak still hangs over the rail on the other side of the room. Your eyes settle on the small table that he used last night and you make your way carefully over to it - as close as the rope allows, that is, because you don’t dare to unhook it and move about freely. The purple cloth still bears evidence from whatever ritual he performed last night, though the chalk symbol seems to have been deliberately wiped through so you’re unable to see exactly what it was. You shudder as you remember his rough hold and being made to swallow the mixture - the ‘medicine’ as he’d called it. Perhaps it had just been to make you sleep… but that wouldn’t have needed any chanting, surely.

A sound outside the door takes your attention and then it opens and Undertaker strides through - he’s even bigger than you remember. He sets a carafe and a plate down on the table as the door closes again as if propelled by an invisible force and you drop to your knees with your head bowed as he takes the rope from the bedpost.

“Come here, slave.” He tugs on the leash as he moves to sit in the armchair by the table and as you’re on your knees you crawl over, leaving the blanket behind. You stop a short distance away and he pulls the rope again, indicating that he wants you closer and so you obey. Staring at his heavy-looking leather boots, you’re busy quelling the desire to beg him to let you go back to the others when his hand dips into your line of sight. He’s holding a small piece of buttered bread and you glance up, curiosity outweighing your fear for the moment.

“Eat,” He says, but when you reach up to take the bread he moves it away. “Open your mouth.”

After last night you don’t dare refuse - plus you’re hungry - and so you do as he says, closing your teeth delicately around the morsel and being careful not to touch his fingers at all. You chew and swallow quickly and then he’s right there with another piece… and another. As well as the bread there’s fruit, cheese, some meat - and bit by bit he feeds it all to you. You get so caught up in the quiet rhythm of it that you forget to be scared and when the plate’s empty you whisper your thanks and he strokes a hand over your hair.

“It’s time to get you cleaned up, slave.” He claps his hands twice and you glance over your shoulder as two figures in brown robes enter the room. Large hoods cover their faces but you can see from their hands that they’re women. “You’ll go with them and allow them to carry out their duties.” He leans down and unties the rope from around your neck but then uses it to pull you in towards him. “If I learn that you’ve misbehaved in any way little slave, I will not be happy - do you understand?”

You’re so close to him that you can see the pores on his skin and when you breathe in you smell leather and incense. His deep green eyes are unblinking and you nod fearfully. “Yes, master.”

He stands up, using a hand underneath your arm to lift you to your feet and then casts you gently in the direction of the robed figures. “Return her to me in the solar chambers,” He orders and they both bow low as he sweeps out of the room.

The women take an arm each and lead you out of the door, along the corridor and then into the Lady’s private chamber - at least, it would be if the old Lord had ever married. You spend the next two hours in a gentle whirl as they bathe you in a tub in front of the fire, wash your hair - twice - trim your nails, rub exotic-smelling lotion into your skin… They don’t speak to you and just diligently complete their work, doing a ‘finger to lips’ motion when you ask them why this is all happening.

Eventually, once you’re clean and dry with your hair combed through, one of the robed women produces a purple tunic-like dress which they help you into and of course it fits perfectly. You revel in the feeling of the luxurious fabric on your skin and wonder if perhaps it’s silk. A pair of soft black slippers are eased on to your feet and then you’re encouraged to stand. Nerves return because you know that they’re going to take you back to him but mindful of his warning you remain docile and cooperative as they again take an arm each and lead you to another room quite close to his private chamber.

The one at your right hand side knocks at the door and then pushes it open without waiting for a response from within. You’re led into a large room and then you realise that there are shelves and shelves of books - a whole library! A fire burns in the grate and he sits beside it in a large wooden seat, looking rather like a king atop his throne. There are thick rugs and animal skins on the floor, just like in his chamber and on the opposite wall, a large window with picture-glass depicting a scene from a fairytale brightens the room. You can’t help gazing around in wonder at all the books but inevitably your eyes come to rest on your new master as the two servants quietly melt away.

He barely looks up until your two escorts have left and so you stand there, feeling awkward. He gets up and walks over to you and for the first time, you don’t drop to your knees - mainly because you’re cognisant of the new clothing you’re wearing and you don’t want to risk ruining it but also so that he can inspect you. You had caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the Lady’s chamber and think that you actually look quite alright, though when he walks around you in a slow circle you start to worry that he’s unhappy with something.

“Better… Much better.” He says, coming to a halt in front of you. You blush, wondering what he thought of you before and then the blush deepens as you recall the colour of the water in the tub after you’d been bathed. You must have really seemed like vermin to him…

“Come and sit with me, slave.” His voice interrupts your thoughts and you realise that he’s already returning to his chair and expecting you to follow. As you approach you notice that there are several pillows on the floor to one side of the armchair, like a little nest. You think that’s where he wants you to sit, but you don’t want to be presumptuous. Fortunately, he notices your predicament and says gently, “Down there, that’s right.”

You place yourself as directed, get comfortable in the pile and stare fixedly at the tassel on the corner of one cushion. You’re positioned very close to his legs, which are encased in the same long boots that he was wearing when he pinned your wrist to the floor last night… feels like a lifetime ago now. You reach out and twirl the tassel through your fingers as you try to make sense of everything that’s happened. He’s been quite kind, really - apart from the medicine thing… he let you sleep by the fire with that huge blanket, he fed you some good food - more than you’d have had otherwise - and then he’s arranged for you to be bathed and given this beautiful dress… and now you’re comfortable in a little area that has obviously been created especially for you.

But why?

“Why did you come here for me?” The words just slip out, unbidden, and you have no idea where they came from. You see one of his legs shift and start to panic, fearing that he’s going to discipline you in some way, but he seems unperturbed.

“You’re mine, little slave. The Higher Power has decreed it.”

The answer puzzles you - you have no idea what he means by a ‘Higher Power’ and you find yourself speaking again.

“But… everything here is yours, master. The castle, all the slaves - everything.” He shifts in his chair and you feel him looking down at you and then he snaps his fingers and you raise your eyes and then your head, wondering if you’ve overstepped.

“You are mine in a much deeper sense,” He says as he smooths his goatee beard. “Surely you realise that, given the dreams you’ve been having?” You look off to the side, unsure of what to say to that and then he goes on. “I saw your dream last night, slave. I spoke to you; do you remember?”

You look down at the floor and frown as you try to replay the events of last night. There was the medicine, he threw the blanket over you and then you went to sleep… You look up at him again as the dream comes back to you. “I asked why you came here, master… and you said to ask you again when I woke up.”

He smiles, though it’s not exactly friendly, more self-satisfied. “Which you just did. Good girl.” He tucks one long finger under your chin so that you continue to look at him. “You will drink that medicine a few times each week.”

You swallow nervously but reply softly, “Yes, master.” Feeling a little braver you decide to venture a question. “Please, master… what’s in the medicine? What’s it for?”

“It will allow me to see your dreams, little slave. You’ll sleep better for it.” He moves his hand and so you lower your head again. He still hasn’t told you what’s actually in it but you’re more concerned with what he’s just said he can do if you drink it - he’ll be able to see your dreams!

“When can I go back to the others, master?” You ask, hoping that he doesn’t think you ungrateful.

He laughs softly and then you cry out in shock when he unceremoniously and with no difficulty at all, scoops you up from the nest of pillows and sits you on his lap. One powerful arm encircles your waist and with his free hand he strokes your hair to neaten it. He smells vaguely of woodsmoke and of leather and there’s something else there - maybe his soap. You freeze in fright as he murmurs next to your ear.

“I have told you, girl - you are mine. Your place now is by my side.” He gives you a very slight squeeze and you bite back a whimper. “Do you think I had you scrubbed down and dressed nicely only to send you back to the cellars?”

Despite your fear at this entirely new level of close proximity to him, his words make you turn your head to look at him in shock. Your eyes suddenly fill with tears at the thought of being trapped here all alone and he frowns.

“Why do you cry, slave?”

You blink back the tears before they can fall and swallow thickly before replying. “My… my friends, master.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “You will see them from time to time, I expect.” You make a small move as though to climb down from his lap but in response he merely tightens his hold and to your horror, pulls you in even closer to his chest. “Perhaps once we are married you can choose one to attend you as a - what do you call it? Lady-in-waiting.”

What? Fear all forgotten, you struggle away from him and jump off his lap, backing away until there’s a few feet between you. “Married?!”

To be continued…

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boldlyanxious · 9 months

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Queen in Iron

ttt 2023

Masterlist

Dickinette fae-vampire au

Part 1 of ??

There is blood and violence but not particularly graphic

He smelled the blood first.

An injured fairy was always a nice treat. It was so rare to catch one. Humans were much more fragile and usually completely ignorant of the danger. They only saw his charming smile. By the time they could see his fangs, it was too late. The fae were not so easily entranced. Finding and capturing one required cunning or luck.

Once he headed in the right direction he could hear the sound of bells.

His hearing was very good but he was surprised to recognize the specific tone of iron hitting against iron. Even more surprising was that it was in the ash grove. He may not have always known the significance of that and why it would be strange but over the years he had learned much. Not every fae had very many weaknesses but they all shared a sensitivity to iron and ash trees.

The bells would have been difficult on their own for the small fairy. Her ears would be more sensitive to bells than other fae but the iron would be unpleasant rather than lyrical. Ash wood was usually avoided for its ability to harm the fae. But as he approached the fairy he could barely tell she was alive. She was bloodied in multiple spots. Her hair was dark and wet from it. The skin that was visible had boot prints in bright blue bruises. One wing was bent at an angle that would have incapacitated her if she were conscious. That might be nothing compared to the iron manacles on her wrists connected with a heavy chain and a matching iron crown shoved on her head.

Other attempted movements nearby put him on edge. He backed away and crept around until he got near to the edge of the grove. Four of the lowest rank of royal guards were there. They were struggling with the trees all around and the iron bells. It was clear that they had been responsible for the state of the fairy. They still wore the gloves they had used to protect themselves from the iron and one had blood on his heavy boot. Dick fed on them until they were near the end and then he staked them with ash limbs to the trees. It would take some time for them to reach their end and they would suffer the whole time.

He knelt by the fairy. She still didn’t move even when he removed the shackles and crown before lifting her up. It wasn’t until they got past the trees that she took a barely perceptible breath. She probably would not survive.

—

Marinette felt the tension before they acted but she had no reason to fear the royal guard. She lived near enough to the court that she sometimes saw the members or the guard but they had no reason to interact with her. Many would be nearby hoping for a glimpse of the members of the Court but Marinette was concerned only with her own tasks today to have everything ready before the next revelry. She did love to see the Court and would make an attempt to recreate their styles but her focus was on trade. She would trade her wares to those in the square hoping to see the bright color of Court.

So when they came for her the square was packed. There were whispers that even the Royals were going to make an appearance. She didn’t see them. Her back was turned but she felt the presence of the guards. She shrieked and the crowd was gleeful as she was dragged away. She could only think that they had confused her with someone else. Any crime she would have committed would have been far below the notice of the Royal Court. But she had not committed any crime that she was aware of.

She tried to tell them but they were larger and stronger than her after years of training to become the Royal guards. She twisted every way but the arms held her as firm as iron. The twisting caused her skin to burn as if it were iron on her. She saw her friends and family in the crowd. They were calling out for answers but none were given. They were all held back as she was carried away.

Her thoughts on iron turned out to be very wrong though. She had heard the effects described but it was far inadequate a description for the pain she felt when it touched her bare skin. It was a wide enough ring that it moved up and down her bare arms and if she could get free of their grip she could pull it off her wrist but that would require holding it with her bare hands which even the guards were not doing. They had gloves on so their skin would not sizzle like hers.

They did appear to be starting to struggle though. She could no longer hear the crowd. They had taken her some distance. Her words were not even forming anymore. She doubted anything could be heard over the cacophony in her ears. She couldn’t place it. It might just be in her head but it was louder than her own shrieks. It was only in her head but all around. Everything was the wrong sound. She was having trouble breathing.

That didn’t make sense until they threw her on the ground. She looked up and recognized the trees. It wasn’t until the first blow landed that she realized why it looked familiar and unfamiliar. She had only ever seen ash trees in pictures. She wasn’t even among those of her friends who had played with a small piece of ash bark just to see if it was as bad as it was said to be. She had definitely never gone to the ash grove. Never before now. Being this deep in trees surrounded by the ash could be the end of a fairy like her. She imagined it was a struggle for the guards too but it didn’t seem to be enough of one to save her. They threw her down and began hitting and kicking her; she knew it was the end.

—

Dick brought her to his own suite and laid her on the couch. She didn’t take up much space. He brought water and cloths to clean her as much as he could and to determine how bad her injuries were. She didn’t move as he cleaned the cuts and did his best to bandage them. If she were likely to survive, he expected that to change when he got to her wings. They could heal if the rest of her would heal but it would take time. She may never be able to fly long distances again.

As he cleaned away the blood he couldn’t help but think of how quickly she would improve with just a few drops of his own. He had never considered healing a fairy but he also knew that his blood would change her. She would not become a vampire like him but she would no longer be welcome among her own kind. At least not if they knew and he didn’t know how long a demon could hide among them. For the plan forming in his mind, she would need their acceptance.

He had done all he could with her cuts and bruises. He hesitated before fixing her wing. It wasn’t like him to care about the pain he would cause, especially to a fairy, but the light hit the side of her face that wasn’t covered in bruises and her eyes opened just slightly. The color was so blue and clear. It made him pause. She seemed so pure and innocent. There was no way she deserved any of this. While he thought this, he saw her eyes go wide. Even in her current state, she recognized the danger.

He acted swiftly and set the wing at the height of her fear. She screamed out and then the rest of her injuries washed over her. He had no way to calm her or ease her fear. None of the tricks that worked on humans were effective on the fae. It would all just take time for the pain to fade.

He removed his hands from her as soon as the wings were set in place. He put the roll of bandages near her so she could wrap it if she were able. There was no way she would show him her back or offer her wings to him. She was quickly moving to the far side of the couch, despite the pain she would be in. He did the best thing he could do for her then. He left.

He locked the door behind him and went out in search of food fit for a fairy. There would definitely not be any of that around here.

—

She knew she needed to get out, but she could barely shift herself. How had she found herself in a vampire’s house? She had thought she was dead; felt the life draining out of her. The guards had beat her brutally. She could feel each blow as it hit but over every spot that was throbbing in pain was a carefully placed bandage. She had seen the vampire when her eyes opened. He was leaning over her but it looked like concern in her eyes before he caused her immense pain. She reached back to her wings. It was so sore but she could see that it was set when she could remember how it felt when the boot crashed into it.

It had not been the final blow, but perhaps the worst one. She would have cried out if she had anything left in her but she was already in a heap, no longer even trying to stop the attack. They all laughed together. She thought it was at the broken wing but one stepped over her body and put something on her head.

“All hail the queen,” he said.

He backed away with a bow. She could feel the sizzle of the iron on her forehead but she was too injured to even attempt to move it. Her eyes closed and she knew nothing before she opened them to see the vampire.

She looked around the room. It was clean except for a few bloody cloths and bandage scraps. Based on the number of bandages she suspected he had been tending to her for quite awhile. But she didn’t know why a vampire would bother to help a fairy, especially one that was cast out so publicly.

She turned at a knock on the door.

—

Dick didn’t know much about keeping a fairy alive after such an attack. It had never been a concern for him, preferring instead to prey upon the weakened fairies. After seeing the extent of her injuries, he didn’t think she would survive on her own. But she reacted when she saw him and there was fire in her eyes. She had a chance with help but he doubted she would find it in anyone else. The other fae had been royal guards. They intended for her to die and if it was a royal decree then he doubted even her family and friends would be able to assist her. She would be an outcast.

He didn’t know if that even made this worth it. If she healed without his blood, she could go back but she might face the wrath of the Court if she did. He might have to find out more about what had happened. He only knew of one who could go there but he would not do it without a price. He had been changed so it would be unlikely for him to be around long without being discovered. Not all fae could be fooled by the glamour of a demon.

For now, Dick focused on the immediate needs. His little fairy would need more care than she would accept from him so he turned to Alfred to help him. He might whine about the extra work but deep down, he would love to help. Dick might have to find something extra special to keep him happy and silent about the new charge. He didn’t know what the reaction of the rest of the clan might be.

—

The door opened slowly.

She would have had plenty of time to hide if she could move at all after her previous attempts. She couldn’t even reach next to her for anything to defend herself if there had been anything nearby. But the man who entered appeared non-threatening. He had a tray of food that he set down and then began tidying the mess around. He didn’t speak to her for a moment.

She watched him as he moved around, tidying as he went before approaching her. He could tell she was watching but he seemed unbothered by that. Not just unbothered, he seemed to anticipate it. He made no sudden moves and approached from the side where she had the best vantage. He didn’t get too close before he sat down with his hands visible.

“I am here to help, if you allow me. I can bind to your wings.”

“You’re fae,” she said.

“So are you,” he replied.

“You are working for a vampire?”

It wasn’t really a question. It was a statement but bordered on accusation.

“I have been with the family since before they were vampires,” he explained quietly. “But yes, I work with them still.”

“You will have the mark of being near them. You will never be allowed back, not really.”

“Will you be allowed back?”

Her sob caught in her throat. She hadn’t even considered what would happen. If she somehow survived the attack and being captured by a vampire, what would happen if she returned. She didn’t want to face that uncertainty. It had to have been a mistake. Someone had to figure that out but she had more immediate concerns.

“I am in a vampire’s house. I doubt I will stay past dinner,” she said.

He didn’t respond to that but he did move towards her with a gesture. She figured she didn’t have much to lose so she showed him her back and she could feel his gentle hands on her wings. He applied a salve and then wrapped them. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. How it could hurt even worse than it had before, she didn’t know. But it seemed to make everything worse as she tensed her muscles to hold in her reaction causing the pain to revisit every injury.

After he finished, he stood and there were a few shuffling noises before he exited the room. She didn’t turn to see. She just collapsed forward and closed her eyes. She didn’t expect to sleep but she once again woke to see the vampire.

—

She didn’t stir when he entered the room. He didn’t even attempt to move quietly. Fairies were usually too alert for that to work anyway. He was happy to see that Alfred had done a good job of wrapping the wings. He would not have managed so well once she had seen him. He sat on the chair nearby and reached for the untouched tray of food. He didn’t know whether she had refused to eat or if she just couldn’t move enough to feed herself.

He poked a strawberry with a skewer and lifted it in front of her. He knew she had awakened when he sat down. Her breathing had changed. But rather than taking the offered bite, she just watched him warily.

“You will have to eat to regain your strength,” he said softly. “Otherwise I wasted a whole lot of time bandaging you up to make sure you didn’t lose all your blood.”

He pushed it so it was against her mouth but she shifted enough that it wasn’t touching her.

“As an immortal, do you feel like you have a shortage of time?”

He smiled at her wit but instead of responding, he tried again with the strawberry. She pulled away again.

“There is no way for me to be grateful that you helped me retain my blood if it is just so you can help yourself to it later.”

“That would make a valid point. But I have no wish to feed on you. I have other plans for you.”

She opened her mouth to speak again but rather than allowing her to ask further questions he pushed the berry into her mouth. Her eyes closed as she tasted it. He had made sure to get the ripest, sweetest offerings that could be found. He poked at another piece and as she began to open her mouth to speak again, he repeated the process. He noticed that she did not move any further than she had the first time and she did not attempt to lift her arms to stop him. It seemed that she was in too much pain to do much more than verbally offer her displeasure. But even that stopped. When he lifted the next bite, he didn’t force it in. She opened her mouth slightly and waited for him to delicately stick it against her lip.

She pulled it off on her own and ate it. As soon as she started cooperating, she was eating more quickly. They were quiet for several minutes while he fed her until she turned her head away. There was more on the tray, but he stopped there. Her eyes started to close again. He wanted to move things around so she could rest better but she already appeared to me headed towards sleep. His thumb swiping a bit of juice away from her lip caused her eyes to open but he was already turning away and she settled back against the arm of the couch.

—

She woke up much more comfortable today.

The brownie was back, flittering around tidying things. He paid her no mind but she was certain he was aware that she had awakened. She had definitely let out a heavy breath before settling against the bedding. The vampire had come in again during the night but he never attempted to feed on her. She had been barely able to move and would not be able to fend him off if he had. But he had quickly and silently checked her bandages and moved her to the bed. He kept her on her belly so she wasn’t laying on her injured wings. Fluffy pillows were propped all around her, supporting every injury so she could sleep comfortably.

The window was opened suddenly and she was surprised that the sky was golden with late afternoon sun. She couldn’t be too sure of the timing of everything since she arrived but she thought she had slept all night and most of the day. She shifted again and tried to sit up. She nearly fell into the pile of fluff, but she thought it might be the amount of cushioning and not her injuries keeping her down. Until she tried again and did fall into the pillows proving that it was both. She gasped at the pain. The brownie was quickly by her side and expertly lifting her away from the pillows.

She grimaced in pain as she sat up, but she was able to manage it. Yesterday she couldn’t even lift her arm to feed herself. It had made her feel so helpless to be fed by a vampire but she hadn’t even realized she was hungry until he forced the food into her mouth. Just the thought of it made her feel hungry again. But the mark of a good brownie was having all your needs met without having to say anything. As soon as she was upright, he had already turned around to produce a glass of chilled nectar. It was just what she needed. It would be easy to manage on her own but still offer sustenance.

She finished it quickly and then was ready to sleep again. He made her wait until he checked all her bandages before he helped her get settled again.

She could tell that she had slept for some time when she awoke again but it was still night when the vampire returned. He was not alone.

—

“I know I can use glamour to fool them, but why would I want to? I had no choice in becoming a demon but they treated me as if I were out to get them.”

“If my plan works, you will be able to go back. I just need to know the details of what happened.”

“Perhaps I was not being clear. What is in it for me?” Jason said. “I no longer need anything from them.” He paused for effect and turned to face Dick directly, “You do.”

The challenge was clear. Dick needed to come up with something that Jason would value in order to get his cooperation. It is possible that Dick could find the information other ways but it would be easier if it were done quietly. Vampires entering the fade would not be quiet.

“Meet her first,” Dick said. “I know you are curious. I cannot promise everything you want right now but if this works, it could change everything.”

“Aww. Look at you, Your Majesty, making big plans,” Jason taunted. “I will meet her but it is not an agreement. I expect to get something out of the arrangement and I’m not as easily pleased as your vampire masses.”

“I promise, the vampire who turned you will be ended. I will see to it myself.”

“You will also owe me one favor that I may claim at any time after I return.”

“I will,” Dick agreed.

“Are you sure you can live by your words? If you don’t deliver to the rest of the vampires, they will not keep you as king.”

“I make the oath, Jason. I will bind it with my blood. I want to make it right for you. I always have, this is just my opportunity.”

“The fate of your entire kingdom now rests with this fairy you have hidden away. You must think she is something special.”

Dick didn’t speak but his actions confirmed it. He pulled out a silver dagger and slashed it against his hand. Jason took the blade and did the same and they put their hands together.

“Bound by our oath with blood,” they said in unison.

They kept their hands together for the moment until the skin healed. The silver slowed the healing for Dick, making the time to heal nearly the same. While they waited, Dick continued speaking with words that were not part of the agreement.

“As we are bound by blood, we are brothers. I claim you as my brother for now and eternity.”

“Brother,” Jason said.

It was simple and full of emotion. Very few things made Jason feel emotions since he was changed. He was detached and the emotion that came easiest was anger. Even when Dick had found him after his fae family had turned him away, after he learned that the attack was not random and that his life had been used to pay a debt to the vampire, Jason’s rage had melted into detachment to only surface on occasion. But now, he felt the acceptance and family bond.

Their hands slid apart. The blood remaining was the only sign left of their oath. But Jason moved forward and pulled his brother into a hug. He would refuse to admit the tears trying to form in his eyes, but Dick noticed. Vampires could see everything it seemed. Instead of commenting he turned away and moved his arm to wrap around Jason’s shoulder as they turned towards Dick’s suite.

—

Marinette tried to right herself. She was still lost in the fluff pile. Her muscles ached and her injuries, though healing were tender after being still for so long. Her wings twitched as she moved, making the pain radiate through her. She dropped her head back down as it washed over her but gritted her teeth and forced herself up to face the vampire and the demon.

There was already blood on their hands. She wasn’t sure what that meant but it couldn’t be good for her. She knew little about demons. They were rumor, a scary tale that the young fae would tell each other when they wanted to be scared. But now there was one standing in front of her with her vampire savior. He had done everything to make her comfortable here except let her leave, if she could even manage that on her own but now he showed up, fangs out in a smile with blood on his hands.

“Who is your friend,” she asked hesitantly.

She didn’t care as much as she wanted the opportunity to see the reaction to her. They likely had not expected her to wake up when they entered. The fae were not nocturnal and she was still recovering.

There was no immediate response to her. The demon looked her over, walking around to take her in from all angles. She felt like covering herself and cowering but she didn’t want to put herself in a less defensible position. As if there could be any possible defense. She would have been easy prey for either of them at any point in her life. She had seldom even left the safety of her village. Everything she needed was there and it had been a safe life until it wasn’t.

“I see your motivation now,” the demon said.

He reached out a hand and touched Marinette’s face, tilting her head to get a better view. She stiffened but did not pull away. They wanted a reaction. They were toying with her and she refused to play along.

“I believe there has to be a reason for her to be cast out,” he walked across the room and pulled out the iron shackles and the crown that had been used against her. “They put a crown on her head, you can still see the mark from the iron on her face.”

“Mnhmm. If you say so,”his finger traced across her forehead. She bit her lip and the pain and memory of the feel of the iron. She could feel the burns on her arms too. “But she is ever so captivating, don’t you think?”

“If you say so,” the vampire responded.

She couldn’t tell how he actually felt. He was busying himself with moving the iron around. Even with him holding it all together, it was sliding against itself causing her ears to hurt. She focused on her breathing and not what their words could mean. She didn’t know why a vampire would want to help a fairy. Everything she had ever been told was to fear vampires and that if she met one, it would be her death. She had thought she was dead at the hands of the fae and when she woke up to a vampire, he had only tried to help her.

The demon pulled her to her feet. She gripped on to his arm unconsciously, not used to standing. The room swayed at her sudden unexpected movement. Her limbs screamed in pain at the pressure on her injuries. But she managed it. She released her hold as soon as possible but immediately realized that she may actually require the support. As soon as she thought that, he turned and pulled her close, his arms slid along her sides and then pressed against her back.

“Well, if you have no interest, perhaps I could entice her,” he looked down into her eyes.

She couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were wide with shock and she quickly tried to think of how to get out of this situation. She was certain he was going to kiss her. She had never in her life thought that she would be at risk of being kissed by a demon. She had only ever kissed one fairy. He was a minstrel in the royal court but at the last revel, he had played her a special song and handed her flowers. She smiled and then he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. It had been clumsy and sweet. She wondered what he thought when she was dragged away. There would be another revelry soon and she had thought she might see him again there.

If she pushed away, she would fall. She didn’t know if she could get back to the cushions or if that would be a bad idea. So she froze in place and hoped that it would be over quickly. But it never happened. He wasn’t even looking at her anymore. He looked back over at the vampire who moved in a flash. He removed her from the demon’s arms and tucked her under his own, baring his teeth to the other man. Rather than seeming afraid though, he laughed.

“So we see what this favor is worth to you.”

Marinette didn’t know what that meant but he turned and walked away without explaining. She was left there not knowing what had just happened but it seemed important. The vampire looked her over with concern. His hands moved to check every injury before he cupped her face. He looked into her eyes. She didn’t know what he could see. None of his vampire charms should work on her but she still felt relaxed as he took care of her. She was surprised when he bent and lifted her into his arms.

She recognized that he had carried her before but she had never been aware of it at the time. It was so different to move through the air without her wings. It only lasted a moment before he put her back in the bed. He didn’t make eye contact while he tucked the pillows around her to support her injuries. She found herself drifting away as soon as he finished. She barely noticed when he reached out his hand and held hers as she fell back to sleep.

—

“You were gone three days. Did you learn anything?” Dick asked when Jason finally appeared as dawn was breaking.

“Pour me a drink and we will talk. I learned a lot.” Jason reached for the glass and drained it before continuing. “I think she is worth far more than you realized.”

“You found out why she was cast out?” Dick asked.

“I know enough and we are running out of time.”

#dickinette #ttt 2023 #spandex flex #fae au #vampire au #au august #au yeah August #boldlyanxious #maribat

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