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mystique-6 · 1 month

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Kinktober Day 9: Hunter/Prey

Summary: Ailis and Astarion decide to play a game of hunter vs prey. They're prize? Getting to do whatever they want to the other.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like this please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tags: Hunter/Prey, Ball Gag, Extremely Dubious Consent**, Rough Sex, Safeword Ignored, Disassociation, NSFW

Additional Notes: This work involves Spawn Astarion, but it's early in their relationship and he's darker than previously written in these. Be warned.

** Also, I've gone back and forth on whether I should include rape in the tags, but I landed on dubious consent. If you feel I should add rape to the tags please let me know. I will add it. If you are reading this and anything I am stating makes you think you could run into a trigger in this fic then I would suggest skipping this one. My feelings won't be hurt. I want everyone to protect their own peace.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

It was a beautiful summer night. Warm, but not muggy. There was not a cloud in the sky. The stars and moon shone a pearlescent light across the landscape. Crickets played a harmonious melody that brought a feeling of peace over their camp. Ailis enjoyed the clear reflection of the night sky as she washed the night’s dishes. Usually, she didn’t care for the task, but it was hard to be bothered on a night like this. It reminded her of the summer nights she spent with her mother catching fireflies that danced across their farm. She took her time scrubbing the dinnerware clean. She turned to place a dried plate in its crate and let out a startled yelp, dropping the plate to the dirt. She scowled as she picked it back up and began to rewash it.

“Can’t you step on a twig or something?” she grumbled at Astarion, who had a smug grin on his face.

“I can’t help it, darling. I am a predator. Our prey isn’t supposed to know we’re approaching them,” he replied snidely. She shot him an unamused glare.

“I think I’m going to back Shadowheart’s idea and have you wear a bell around camp,” she muttered. Astarion snorted.

“I’d like to see you try,” he said.

“You know, you should be very nice to me right now, considering it’s your night to do the dishes,” Ailis pointed out.

“I didn’t ask you to do them for me,” he replied. “Why are you washing them anyway? Trying to butter me up? Want something from me?”

“Oh yeah, cause everything I do is about pleasing you,” she snapped. “I’m doing the dishes for you so we can all be spared your grumbling. And they’ll actually be clean for the morning meal for a change.”

“They’re clean when I wash them,” he whined.

“You don’t wash them, Astarion,” she cried. “You dunk them in the water once and call it a job well done. Meanwhile, the rest of us are forced to eat off dirty plates at the next meal.” He scowled.

“Well, it’s not fair to ask me to do the dishes when I don’t contribute to the mess!” he exclaimed. “What do I need a plate for?”

“You’re a member of this camp,” Ailis stated. “You’re beholden to the same chores everyone else is.”

“Fine,” he snapped and snatched the wet plate out of her hands. He made aggressive eye contact as he dried it thoroughly and then placed it in the crate. “The dishes are done.”

“You’re infuriating,” she said, lifting the crate and starting back to camp.

“You’re just angry that I can get the better of you,” Astarion replied, walking alongside her. He did not offer to carry the heavy crate.

“Oh, please. I could snap your spine in two in under a minute,” she snapped.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, darling,” he replied stiffly, “but that’s not what I meant. You aren’t used to being caught unawares. It bothers you that I can approach you without your notice.”

“Because you purposefully sneak around!” she argued. “If you approached like a normal person or if I knew you were seeking me out, I’d notice.”

“Why don’t we put that to the test?” he suggested. “You can see if you can avoid me as I hunt you through the woods. I’ll even give you a five-minute head start.” She considered his game. She should really ignore his taunting, but she felt the need to prove her competence.

“Am I allowed a weapon?” she asked. “The woods are dangerous at night.”

“Of course, Ailis. I wouldn’t have you defenseless. Just don’t use it on me when I inevitably hunt you down,” he replied. His arrogant tone made her decision for her.

“Fine. When are we doing this? Tonight?” she questioned.

“Oh no, darling,” he replied. “I like to anticipate the hunt. I’m looking forward to anticipating my prize all day tomorrow.”

“Your prize?” she replied, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes. My prize. When I catch you tomorrow night, I’ll win this bet and a bet must have an award to it,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she agreed. “What do you want?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, considering. He ran a hand sensually over her clothed body and she couldn’t help a shiver from running through her. “It would be fun to mark up your skin and then lick away every ounce of blood spilled.”

“Absolutely not,” she replied. “I have enough scars.”

“It’s my prize for winning though, which means I should get what I want,” he said glibly. “Of course, if you manage to evade me, you win and you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Whatever I want?” she questioned. She knew what would make her happy.

“Yes, darling. Whatever dirty thing you want,” he replied. I am curious what you have in mind.”

“You’ll find out tomorrow when I win,” she said cheerfully.

“Don’t be delusional, darling. It doesn’t suit you,” he replied.

“We’ll see if I’m delusional tomorrow, won’t we?” she said feeling even more determined to win. “Have a good night. You’ll need the rest for tomorrow.”

The anticipation throughout the next day nearly killed her. It was almost impossible to focus on the day’s tasks or to pay attention to her surroundings. She blundered through the day until, finally, it was time to return to camp. She made a stop at the grove for supplies for the night’s adventure before joining the others at camp. She ate her dinner quickly, and then packed a bag of supplies before meeting Astarion at the edge of the forest.

“Ready, darling?” he asked after they’d discussed a few rules.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Are you?” His lips quirked up in amusement.

“Yes. I’m quite ready to enjoy my prize at the end of this,” he said. “Do try to make the hunt difficult for me, though. It’s always disappointing when it’s too easy.” She rolled her eyes.

“I think it’s going to be a difficult night for you when you lose,” she replied.

“We’ll see,” he said. “Do you have everything you need?” She nodded. “All right, then. You have twenty minutes to get ahead of me. After that the hunt begins.”

“I thought you were only giving me a five-minute head start,” she said.

“I would find you too easily,” he said. “This way will be more fun.” She snorted and then stepped into the woods. She quickly lightened her step though and began to cover some ground. She did her best not to lay any kind of trail.

It wasn’t long though, before her confidence began to wane and she started to think this game was a mistake. The thick canopy of the trees blocked out much of the moon and starlight. She couldn’t see very far ahead, and despite her best efforts, tripped over roots and other debris. She’d packed a torch in case of emergency, but she refused to light it. The fire would immediately give away her position.

The darkness was cloying though, and it felt like the forest was closing in on her. It was also disturbingly quiet. No animals scuttled about or made their usual various chatter. They sensed a predator on the loose as keenly as she did. Even though she knew who was hunting her and that she was safe, goosebumps prickled her skin and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her instincts screamed that she was in danger. She ignored her instinct. She was safe.

Still, she felt an increasing need to get out from under the trees. She decided to risk traveling on the shore of the river. She’d find a calm spot to cross. It would throw her scent and she believed she was still far enough ahead of Astarion that he wouldn’t hear any potential splashing. She reached the edge of the forest and peeked out at the shore from behind a tree. The area looked clear.

Carefully, she stepped out into the open and approached the river. The water was traveling quickly, but the light from the moon was bright enough for her to make out the pebbled riverbed all the way out to the middle. It was very shallow here. She decided to cross and travel alongside the tree line on the other side. She slowly stepped into the river to avoid making a splash. She began wading across it, never lifting her feet high enough to break the surface. It was slow progress.

“She had gotten halfway across when she heard rustling in the woods behind her. She whipped her head around to look over her shoulder, but she didn’t see anything. She was about to continue when she heard more rustling and a frightened and pained cry. She took off in a dead run, splashing her way across the rest of the river and then she took off into the woods before her. She ran until her lungs felt like they were about to burst.

She leaned against a tree as she caught her breath. As her breathing evened out, she felt the adrenaline fade from her body. Her senses came back to her and she realized her mistake. She hadn’t paid any attention to her surroundings as she’d ran. She was fairly certain she’d run as straight a course as possible, but she wasn’t sure how far off course she was. She could scream. Astarion would probably hear her. Or she could just wait until he found her. He was most likely right on her tail anyway with all the noise she’d just made. But both of those options meant she’d lose the game. She’d rather lose trying than just giving up.

She decided to find her way back to the river and recross it. She would determine her next step from there. She turned back in the general direction she thought she’d run from and began to trek back. Anxiety prickled her skin as after she’d been walking for a while, she hadn’t come across the river. Nothing looked familiar to her. She picked up her pace, moving at a light job, until she finally heard the river babbling through the brush.

Ailis stepped back out onto the shore. She was relieved to see she was only a few feet down from where she’d originally crossed. She moved back to that spot and this time managed to silently cross the river. She ducked back into the woods. As much as she loathed the claustrophobic feeling of the trees at night, she’d drawn too much attention to her position to stay in the open.

She began to carefully pick her way through the brush again. Her head moved constantly around as she scanned for any sign of movement. Ahead of her, a bush began to shake. She tensed and gripped the handle of the knife attached to her belt. Most likely, it was just Astarion messing with her before her caught her, but there was an abundance of wildlife in these woods. And plenty of those animals might decide to attack her.

The bush rustled for another moment and then a raccoon stumbled out of it. Ailis let go of the knife. She felt relief at the sight of the harmless animal and then sympathy as she saw the large wound on its leg. This was the creature that made all that screeching before that had sent her running. The ruckus had been a predator attack. A failed one. When the raccoon noticed her, it immediately began to hiss and it arched its back to appear larger.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” she said in a soothing tone. It did nothing to calm the raccoon. It stomped its feet, causing its wounded leg to buckle and knock it off balance. “Oh, don’t do that! You’re hurt.” She pulled her backpack off and dug through it until she found the potion of animal speaking she’d packed. She quickly downed the potion.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “Please calm down.” The raccoon cocked its head at her as it got back on its feet.

“Leg hurts,” it whined. She noticed he wasn’t putting any weight on it now.

“I can see that,” she said. “Can I take a look at it?” The raccoon chittered. It looked unsure. “I just want to see if I can help.”

“Okay. Have look,” he submitted. She knelt in front of the raccoon and gently held onto his paw and looked at the wound. It was still bleeding and she could see down to the muscle, though not the bone. She carefully prodded around the leg and was relieved to find it wasn’t broken. If the wound didn’t get infected and the raccoon avoided fights or other predations he might live.

“I’m going to clean this wound and bandage it. It will come off on its own after a time, but try not to pick at it,” she said pulling out her medical supplies. “It’s important to keep it as clean as possible.” She got to work quickly, and soon had the bandage in place. The raccoon tested the leg and was able to put weight on it and walk.

“Feel better! Thanks. You friend,” the raccoon chittered. She smiled at him.

“Take care of yourself now, okay?” she said. The raccoon nodded and then waddled off into the forest. She also continued, making her way through the brush. She flinched at every noise she heard. Every second she expected Astarion to appear, but she continued to evade him. More likely, he was just toying with her. He probably had his eyes on her right now and was enjoying her increasing anxiety. The bushes behind her rustled and she whirled around to see what had snuck up on her.

“Ouch!” a pained shout called out and she recognized the voice. She quickly moved through the bushes and found Astarion trying to kick off a raccoon with a bandaged leg.

“Don’t kick him!” Ailis said rushing over.

“The damn thing won’t let go,” Astarion snapped.

“I’ll get him to let go. Quit trying to throw him off,” she said kneeling down so she was closer to her furry friend. “Let go of him please.”

“Monster. Stalking you,” the raccoon said and hissed at Astarion.

“The monster is my friend. We’re playing a game. He’s safe,” Ailis said.

“Safe?” the raccoon repeated.

“Yes. Safe,” she assured him and after a moment, he let go of Astarion’s leg. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“You friend,” the raccoon said and with a last suspicious glance at Astarion, disappeared back into the woods.

“Were you just speaking with that creature?” Astarion asked.

“Yes. I used a potion of animal speaking earlier so I could get him to let me bandage his leg,” she replied. “Poor thing got attacked.”

“I heard,” Astarion replied and then gave her a sultry smile and pulled her to him by her waist. “I also heard you, and now that I’ve caught you…”

“You didn’t catch me. I caught you,” she said.

“Hmm?” he hummed giving her a confused look.

“I found you first. I win,” she said with a triumphant smile. He started to frown.

“I wouldn’t say you found me first, darling,” he replied, his tone slightly strained. “I knew where you were. I was just about to make my appearance known.”

“But I found you before that happened and we agreed that we had to make the other known that they were found to count as a win,” Ailis said. “Or I had to avoid you completely. No stalking outside the hunt to find me was allowed. You apparently decided to disregard that rule. I made my presence aware to you when I found you, so I win!”

“You only found me because your damn raccoon attacked me!” Astarion cried. “You used a potion to conspire with the wildlife. You cheated!”

“At no point did we say the potion of animal speaking couldn’t be used,” she replied calmly. She watched Astarion’s stormy expression as he tried to find something to retort with, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. She felt surprised when his expression slipped immediately back to seductive.

“All right then, darling. What do you have planned for me?” he purred. She hesitated, feeling a flicker of concern, but shook it off and pulled her pack off her shoulders and dug through it. If he really wanted to protest, he would, she thought. After a moment of searching, she held up what she’d been looking for to Astarion to see. It was a leather belt with a red ball in the middle instead of a buckle.

“A ball gag?” Astarion said, eyebrows raised. “Where did you get that?”

“From a rather amused druid,” she replied, grinning hugely. A muscle ticked in Astarion’s cheek as if he were about to smile, but his mouth remained a neutral line.

“Is this your way of telling me I talk too much?” he said.

“If it wouldn’t be too mean, I’d have you wear it during our travels, but since I’m nice I’ll just use it on you for this occasion,” she replied lightly. She was teasing him of course. Although some things he said certainly annoyed or even angered her, she would never want to restrict him from expressing his thoughts or opinions. The gag was just meant for a bit of fun. Astarion’s expression remained neutral though.

“All right. Place it on me,” he said. She hesitated. Something in his manner didn’t feel quite right. Usually, he was very flirtatious and open during their sexual encounters. Right now, he was very stiff and guarded. He wasn’t telling her no, though. She thought maybe he’d never used a gag before and was just nervous. More likely he was just mad that he’d lost the game. She moved closer after a moment. He would let her know if he needed her to stop. She held the gag up so the red ball was just in front of his mouth.

“Open,” she ordered, and he listened. She gently pushed the ball into his mouth. She’d worried his fangs wouldn’t work with this gag, but it fit fine and didn’t appear to be putting any pressure on his fangs. She leaned into his chest as she fastened the lock of the gag in place behind his head and adjusted it to fit snugly. She ignored the part of her mind that wished he’d put his arms around her as she did this.

“Is it too tight?” she asked. He tried to speak and she bit her lips to stop from laughing at the scowl that appeared on his face when he remembered he couldn’t talk. He shook his head. “Good. Now listen to me, cause this next bit’s important. If at any time you want or need the gag removed just tap me three times, okay? Nod that you understand.” He nodded.

“All right, then. On your knees,” she ordered. She half expected him to refuse, but he obeyed. He watched her warily from where he kneeled on the ground. She fisted her hand tightly in his white curls, and pulled his head back a little, but then noticed there was actual fear in his eyes. She loosened her grip so he could pull his head away if he wanted to, and kissed him softly on the cheek. The fear was gone, but he still looked cautious. “Three taps, Astarion. That’s how you get out of this.”

She waited to see if he would do it, but he didn’t. Taking that to mean he didn’t want to stop, she continued. She pulled his shirt off and then, using both hands, she shoved at his chest. He fell back onto his behind. Before he could recover, she knelt in front of him and draped herself over them until he laid flat on his back on the ground. She traced her tongue along one of his ears and then nipped the earlobe. She smirked when this caused him to moan, the sound muffled by the gag. She trailed kisses down his jaw and throat and then bit gently into the skin where the neck met shoulder. Her hands flew to her waist and she waited to see if he was going to use the signal. He didn’t.

She continued trailing kisses down his chest, nipping lightly at the skin every now and again. She continued down his abdomen until she reached his pants. She palmed his cock through his pants and squeezed through the fabric. He moaned, and she wasted no more time teasing him. She unlaced his pants and shoved them down to his knees. She stroked his cock to full hardness and then kissed the tip before taking him in her mouth. She smirked around his cock as she listened to him moan and cry out around the gag. She worked him with her mouth and when she felt he was about to cu she stopped. She smiled at the frustrated groan and glanced up at his face. Drool was dripping down his chin. She felt her own desire flare in her gut at the sight. She expected to see an indignant scowl when she looked in his eyes, but she was shocked to see they were completely vacant.

He looked as if he were miles way. By his body’s reactions, she had assumed he was enjoying himself. Nor had he given her the signal asking for her to stop. She now wondered if he was even aware enough of what was happening to be able to use the signal. He’d drifted away slightly at other times when they’d had sex. He always said he was just holding back so as not to hurt her or lose control. She’d never thought that was the whole story and now, she was sure. She quickly worked a hand behind his head and unlocked the gag, before easing it out of his mouth. She was alarmed when he didn’t seem to realize the gag was gone.

“Astarion,” she said, but he didn’t even look at her. She began carding her fingers through his hair, offering a kind touch for comfort, while she shook his shoulder gently with her other hand. “Astarion! Look at me.” His gaze turned to her. At first, she could tell he was just obeying an order, but after a moment, she saw awareness return to his expression and she felt immensely relieved.

“Ailis?” he said.

“Yes. It’s me,” she replied gently, tugging in an errant white curl that had fallen onto his forehead.

“You stopped. Why?” he asked, sounding baffled. She glanced at him warily.

“Astarion, I went to check on you and you weren’t at all present,” she said. He suddenly looked annoyed.

“I’ve told you, darling,” he said, sitting up and she followed. “Sometimes my desire for your blood gets a little too strong. I must hold myself back to keep myself from hurting you. I should have found an animal to consume while I was hunting you.”

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you use the signal?” she asked.

“I’ve never told you I need to stop before over it,” he replied.

“You always had the ability to,” Ailis said. “I gave you a signal to use because you wouldn’t be able to speak with the gag. Are you saying you’ve wanted to stop before this time, but didn’t say anything? Did you just disregard using the signal or were you so spaced out you couldn’t?”

“You are looking for problems, darling,” he replied tersely. “I’ve never needed to stop before and I didn’t need to now.” She bit her lip, unsure how to respond. It felt like there was a deeper issue at play here, that caused him to zone out. She wasn’t convinced he had a problem with bloodlust. She wasn’t sure if she should push the issue. They weren’t in a real relationship. They were just two people fooling around and letting off some steam. They weren’t even friends, really. Although she had grown to appreciate Astarion, she didn’t care for him all that much. She found his callous disregard for others chilling and his tendency to rile up the group frustrating.

“Are we continuing, darling?” Astarion asked. He sounded impatient. She was tempted to call it off tonight, but she was already worked up. And the vampire spawn was quick to say when something displeased him usually. Surely, he wouldn’t suffer through sex just for her benefit. Still, she was done with the gag. He may not want to admit it, but he clearly didn’t like it. At least, not being used on him.

“We can continue,” she said, “but just do what you wanted tonight. Forget the gag.”

“You won, darling. It’s rightfully your pick on what we do tonight,” she said snippily. “Besides, I recall you saying you didn’t want what I had in mind.” She shrugged.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Just don’t cut anywhere that’s readily visible to others.” Astarion gazed at her consideringly for a moment, and then took the gag out of her hand and held it up to her face. Surprised, she opened her mouth to ask him what he was planning to do, but he roughly shoved the gag inside. Her exclamation of surprise was muffled by the gag. He quickly fastened the clasp behind her head and then pulled back to look at her.

“Hmm. You were right. The gag is appealing,” he said. She felt a flash of hurt. She had made a similar remark about shutting him up, but she had been teasing. She couldn’t tell if he was or not, and suddenly wondered if he thought she’d meant it too. She had no way to ask him now. He then pushed her back and she landed with a thud onto her back. He was mirroring her own actions from earlier, though his treatment was much harsher. Her clothes were quickly removed. He then abruptly lifted her legs up over her shoulder and then leaned forward until her knees hovered around her shoulders. She whined at the rough treatment and his gaze finally met hers.

“Three taps, darling,” he said and then he slammed into her. She cried out around the gag and her fingers dug into the dirt beneath her as they clenched from the surprise and mild pain. There had been no prep and she was struggling to adjust to him inside her. He gave her no time to as he pulled out completely and then thrust back in, setting a punishing rhythm. Spit gurgled out of her mouth around the gag and dribbled down her chin and cheeks as she moaned and cried out from his brutal thrusts.

She tried to catch his gaze, but realized he wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze was forward, somewhere over her head and she knew he was disassociating again. She moved a hand up to tap his shoulder and use their signal, but his hand gripped her own and pulled it up above her head. He did the same with the other hand and then pinned them in a crushing grip. Her protests were muffled by the gag. She wasn’t sure he could hear her anyway. Her only option left was to bear it. She tried to make her body as malleable as possible as she rocked with each thrust. It didn’t take too long for his rhythm to falter and he came as he pulled out of her. She felt his cool cum spurt across her folds and up to her lower abdomen, and grimaced. Mess was just a part of sex and usually it turned her on, but she could only feel disgust right now.

Her attention was drawn back to him when she felt him pulling her open her leg to increase his access and she realized he intended to make her finish. She gave a cry in protest around the gag and tugged her leg from his grasp. He let her go and glanced up at her in surprise. A part of her was relieved to see he was fully present now, but a larger part of her burned with anger. She had treated him with care, giving up her prize so he could feel comfortable. He had just used her like an object; one he didn’t care much about. This wasn’t a relationship. Neither of them really cared much for the other, but she had treated him with respect and he had just thrown that back in her face. She reached back behind her head and started fumbling with the clasp on the gag, but she couldn’t get it. She felt his cool hand brush hers aside and he unfastened it for her and pulled the gag away.

“Darling?” he questioned. She ignored him and worked her jaw for a moment as she sat up before wiping the drool away and then turning to look for her clothes. She’d just found her shirt when she felt him pull t her leg again. She jerked out of his grip again. “Darling, you didn’t get to cum.” She could feel his eyes on her face, but she refused to meet them.

“It’s fine. I don’t need to,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral. She grabbed her shirt and started slipping it on. She could put the upper undergarment on later when she got back to camp.

“It’s not fine, love. Mutual pleasure, remember?” he said with a sultry smile. He placed his hand on her leg again and this time she kicked him hard in the chest. Hard enough to push him backwards onto his behind. He looked shocked for a moment, and then angry. “What in the Hells was that for?!” She ignored him as she finished slipping her shirt on and began looking for her pants. “If you’re angry because we didn’t do this your way that’s on you. I didn’t call it off. You did. And I was considerate enough to not enact what I wanted from my prize on you.” Now she did meet his gaze and her lips curled in disgust.

“You think I’m upset because the night didn’t play out the way I wanted?!” she practically growled. He looked at her completely abashed for a moment before growing defensive.

“I can’t think of any other reason for you to be upset,” he replied coolly. She stared at him. There was no true emotion on his face. Any expression he wore was a mask to cover his callousness. He was a vampire spawn, she reminded herself. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. She snatched her pants off the ground and hurriedly pulled them on. She felt him staring at her as she picked up her discarded pack. “Ailis…”

“I’m not going to explain something to you that you are incapable of understanding,” she snapped. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She moved through the woods until she got back to camp. She moved to the river and cleaned herself up before going straight to her tent. Once inside, she up in a ball on her bedroll; her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She swore it was the last time she ever let a man make her feel so small, and then she burst into tears. She promised herself that every time. She just never learned.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 #kinktober

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lyrabythelake · 3 years

Note

I don't actually know where to find the Whumptober/Linktober prompts, but if you are taking suggestions, a follow up to the dehydration one where the pirates who rescue them are Not The Most Friendly would be amazing. You got that good good angst in the first one and then the pain does not stop

CW: blood, broken bones, death (of mean pirates), violence

Thank you for this great prompt, pokegeek! This is for today’s LU Linktober prompt, ‘Trick’ and a continuation of this whumptober prompt. I hope you like it!! (this turned out so much longer than intended, whoops)

So the pirates, it turns out, aren’t like the friendly, convivial pirates Wind has told them about in his stories. They probably should have accounted for that, Hyrule thinks as he stares into the deep, dark, frothing abyss that is the ocean, nothing between him and certain death but a flimsy wooden plank and sheer determination to keep his balance. Pirates, by their very nature, plunder passing ships, and for this pirate ship in particular to be this big must mean the pirates on board must have done an awful lot of plundering.

“Er- ahoy there!” Hyrule calls out to the biggest, nastiest looking pirate who he assumes must be the captain. He says it in what he hopes is a cheerful, reasonable tone, though it doesn’t stop Legend from giving him a weird look.

The captain stands at the head of the group of pirates as they watch Hyrule and Legend try their best to keep their balance on a foot-wide piece of wood with their hands tied behind their backs. He is, to put it frankly, a walking, talking cliché. He has a missing leg, a hook for a hand and an eyepatch over one eye. He wears a mismatch of fine, wealthy clothing clearly stolen from several different people and thrown on in a mockery of this world’s fashion. It might’ve been funny if they weren’t currently standing perilously over the jaws of death.

“I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” he tells him placatingly, “we don’t mean any harm, we just want to catch a ride back to land.”

The captain stares, silent and menacing. It’s more than a little unnerving.

Hyrule suddenly fights off a wave of light-headedness that threatens to topple him, his hunger and dehydration from the past two days besting him for a few seconds.

“Hyrule?” he hears Legend mutter urgently when his vision clears, “I really think you should shut up now. They don’t seem the type to reason.”

He glances at his friend who stands between him and the pirates. He looks awful. His skin is sunburned and peeling, his lips are cracked and bleeding, and he looks about ten seconds away from collapse.

“What other option do we have?” he replies in a harsh whisper, “unless you want to try fighting them again?”

“Oh, yeah, because that went so well the first time.”

When they had first been rescued from their drifting dinghy and it had become abundantly clear that their saviours did not have their best interests at heart, they had engaged in battle. Unfortunately, it had been very short lived, their deteriorated health paired with the fact it was two against at least fifteen setting them at an impossible disadvantage.

They were captured immediately, and it soon turned out that the punishment for attacking the ship and its crew was immediate and painful execution. Hence their current predicament.

“Enough!” The captain’s voice is so sudden and booming, Hyrule almost loses his balance. “Jump, now, or I will get my men to push you.” His accent sharpens the edges of his words like a whetstone to a blade. His on visible eye is dark and stormy and, even from this distance, Hyrule notices more than a few of his teeth are black and rotten.

Legend swears under his breath as Hyrule rummages in the depths of his mind for any sudden, miraculous plans that may save them. He comes up terrifyingly short-changed.

One of the smaller members of the crew, a boy who can’t be much older than Wind, comes forward then, a large, wooden pole in hand. He holds one end and starts to push the other closer to where they stand on the very edge of the plank.

For the second time that day, Hyrule genuinely thinks he’s going to die. Instead of backing the two millimetres he has left of the plank behind him, he shuffles a little closer to Legend in front of him so their shoulders touch ever so slightly.

He’s glad he made that speech now, back on the boat when they was dying more slowly and significantly less dramatically than they are now. He had felt a little silly at the time; the truth is, he had been overcome with light-headedness from dehydration and it had loosened his tongue much more than he would have liked, but in the end he is happy he could let Legend know the truth before their time together draws to a close.

He huddles ever closer to Legend and closes his eyes. Takes a long, deep, futile breath so he might last a moment longer beneath those cruel, coursing waves, and—

“WAIT!”

His eyes snap open at Legend’s hoarse shout.

“We- we know the hero. Link, the hero of courage?” Legend’s tone slants upwards at the end of his sentence making it a question, and in doing so he displays his desperation openly for the world to hear.

But to Hyrule’s surprise, the captain frowns before lifting his flesh hand up, signalling for the boy with the pole to cease in his approach.

“You know the hero?” the captain repeats, the interest in his tone sparking one last morsel of hope in Hyrule’s chest.

“Yes! Yes, we know the hero.”

The captain and his crew stare at them for what seems like an eternity. Hyrule’s ears ring and his heart beats loudly in his chest. They are balancing atop the fragile barrier between life and death and he has no idea which way they are going to fall. Eventually, the captain speaks.

“Bring them to me. They will not die today.”

They are pulled back onto the deck of the boat and a painful kick to the back of his knees has Hyrule kneeling before the captain. It all happens in a whirlwind and Hyrule doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more terrified at being thrown back into the frying pan.

The captain looks awfully tall as he looms above them, at least a foot and a half taller than either of them even if they were standing on their feet. His skin is leathery and pockmarked from exposure to the elements and his hair and beard is long and knotted, cascading down his chest and back like spilled soil. Everything about him is fine-tuned to be intimidating.

He narrows his stony eye and focuses on Legend where he kneels in front of him.

“If you really know the hero, you will take us to him,” he says, his tone leaving no room to deny that he is a leader of men, and a fierce one at that.

“Why?” Legend asks bluntly. As quick as a flash, he has his head dipped to the floor in front of him, his face screwed up in pain. A steady stream of blood drips from his nose onto the wooden deck. Hyrule is stunned; he barely saw the captain move from his position above them, but the blood smeared on his right fist in unmistakable. He would never have guessed the man could move with such speed, large and imposing as he is.

“You do not ask questions,” the captain says, his tone calm and monotonous, “you answer mine. Where is the hero?”

Legend says nothing this time, staring defiantly up at him, blood pouring from his nose and into his mouth. Hyrule’s stomach drops. He can’t afford to lose any blood; he’s about to drop from dehydration as it is.

After a few seconds of silence, the captain snatches the long wooden pole from the young crewmember, wielding it as if he had trained with it as a weapon his whole life. There is a loud crack as he strikes Legend across the ribs and Hyrule cringes at the pained cry his friend lets escape.

Still, Legend says nothing.

There are two more cracks, another one across his ribs and one to his arm, the sound of the bone snapping in two echoing out over the water, before Hyrule can take it no more.

“He’s on Outset Island!” He shouts breathlessly as the captain raises the pole for the fifth time. The look Legend gives him is one of utter betrayal and he can’t help but feel a stab of guilt deep within his chest. The captain lowers his stick, his eyes moving slowly from Legend to Hyrule.

“It seems I was asking the wrong person. Outset Island, you say? I do not know of it.”

“I know it, captain,” says a man who stands to the captain’s right. He is strikingly unassuming, his clothes well-made but frayed and worn with years of use, his short brown hair combed back from his face. He wouldn’t look out of place shopping for groceries back on land, and that, thinks Hyrule, is perhaps the scariest thing about him.

“It seems we are in luck,” the captain says, keeping his eye fixed on Hyrule, “we will set off immediately. Take them below deck,” he orders with a wave of his hand. Two pairs of hands grab Hyrule roughly, pulling him to his feet. They begin to drag him across the deck before the captain speaks once more.

“Wait,” he orders. He does not shout, but the effect is immediate and the hands on Hyrule still, keeping him locked into place. The pirate captain approaches, leaning down so that his face is inches from Hyrule’s own. The stench of his breath is vile, rotting fish and something worse, rancid and decaying.

“If you have lied to me,” he says in a voice low enough that the words are between them only, “I will cut out your tongue, then each of your eyes and then I will make you listen as I chop your friend up piece by piece. I will take my time and I will enjoy it.”

Hyrule shivers at the way he says it, slowly, as if he is savouring each word. There is no doubt in his mind now that the man they have ended up on the same boat as is the very worst of mankind, and he is certain that he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his threat.

He hears Legend groan in pain as they are both hauled to the steps that lead below deck. The world spins around him, making it impossible to navigate in which direction they are being taken. There is a corridor, a couple of turns, until soon enough they are thrown roughly to the floor of a small cabin piled high with wooden crates.

“Please,” Hyrule says quickly to one of his captures before they can leave, “we need water. We haven’t had any for days.”

At first he thinks they aren’t going to comply, but as the last of the men leave, a waterskin is thrown to the floor at their feet before the cabin door swings shut.

“What the fuck, Hyrule?”

He turns to look at where Legend is sprawled, his shoulders rested against a crate. He is startlingly pale beneath his sunburn and his nose is red, swollen and still bleeding (Hyrule really hopes the blood on his tunic is from his nose rather than any open wounds on his torso). His expression, however, is twisted in disgust and anger. “How could you do that?” he asks, his voice thick through the blood. “How could you tell them where the others are?”

Hyrule brings his forefinger to his own mouth, signalling him to be quiet, before shuffling over in the cramped space to be nearer to him. It’s a struggle with his hands tied, but he manages. He turns around and without a word Legend painstakingly manoeuvres himself so they are sitting back-to-back and begins working on untying the knot around Hyrule’s hands. It is slow work with Legend only being able to use one hand, the other useless and broken, but he doesn’t complain, not once.

“They don’t know how many of us there are,” Hyrule explains in a low whisper, “they think it’s just Wind. The seven of them will take them down no problem.”

Legend is quiet for a moment and Hyrule wishes he could see his face so he might catch an inkling of what he might be feeling.

“I-“ Legend says eventually, “I didn’t think of that… why didn’t I think of that?” The last part is more berating towards himself than it is aimed at Hyrule.

“You’re tired and in pain and we haven’t eaten for over two days,” Hyrule replies gently just as Legend manages to undo the rope. He turns around and unties Legend’s in a matter of seconds.

“Speaking of…” He walks over to the waterskin lying on the floor and lifts it up. He might have cried with relief if he had any water to spare when he finds it at least three quarter full. He takes a large gulp and the feeling of water running down his dry, hoarse throat might just be the best feeling in the world, like the first fall of rain after a long, dry summer.

For a couple of glorious seconds, it’s like all his aches and pains have miraculously been cured. But as soon as the feeling washes over him, it is gone once more, and he is left feeling possibly even worse than before.

He sighs glumly before handing the rest to Legend. “Here. Drink it slowly.”

“What about you?” Legend asks. Hyrule is concerned to notice the beginnings of delirium in his eyes and the way he is hunched in on himself as he sits on the floor, clutching his broken arm to his chest. He hopes they aren’t too far from Outset Island; he doesn’t know how much longer Legend is going to be able to hold out.

“I’ve had some,” he tells him. Legend wipes some of the blood off his face before raising the waterskin to his mouth, taking a long drink. Hyrule sits down beside him, thankful for the chance to rest. His dizziness is enough that his surroundings have started spinning alarmingly again.

“Slowly, I said,” Hyrule tells him, grabbing the bottom of the waterskin and lowering it slightly. Legend glares moodily at him and Hyrule can’t help but smile at the glimpse of fire that has been noticeably missing from the veteran ever since they were kidnapped.

Legend takes another, smaller sip of water and Hyrule’s smile fades.

“You do have a point, though,” he says solemnly, “I put the entirety of Wind’s home and island at risk by telling those pirates where he lives. If they find his family or any of the island’s residents before the others find them, innocent people will be killed for sure. Or if one of the pirates gets away, word might get out of the hero’s whereabouts and the island would be attacked in the future… I just- I didn’t know what else to do.”

He is brought from his reverie by a hand on his arm and looks up to see an unreadable expression on Legend’s face.

“I won’t lie and say you did the right thing, because I have no idea. But the others have never let us down in the past. We’ve never lost a fight and we’ve fought much worse than a bunch of pirates whose captain is only half intact.”

Hyrule huffs in amusement. “I do like his style, though. Maybe we should convince the old man to get an eyepatch.”

Legend makes a sound that starts as a dry laugh and ends in painful, wracking coughs. Hyrule can do nothing but rub his back soothingly as blood sprays from his mouth and he clutches his chest in clear agony. He can only hope that the blood is from his nose and not from any internal bleeding caused by the trauma to his ribs.

“Agh,” Legend groans as the coughs recede, spitting out a last mouthful of blood and taking another swig of water. Hyrule suddenly feels panic well up inside him. What if Legend doesn’t make it?

“Quit looking at me like that,” Legend says breathlessly, “you’ve basically tricked a bunch of pirates into ferrying us to where we need to be, we’ll have red potions and full bellies in no time.” His words are slightly slurred, from pain or delirium, Hyrule can’t be sure. Dehydration and blood loss can do strange things to a person, he’s learned that first-hand. If he’s bleeding internally, there’s no way of knowing how much danger he’s in.

“You should lie down,” Hyrule suggests seriously, “or at least stop moving so much.”

“Goddesses, you nag as much as the old man,” he mutters, though it’s a mark of how bad he must be feeling that he takes the advice and lowers himself so he’s lying on his side on the hard, wooden floor.

“Here,” Hyrule says, grabbing a piece of old material that’s draped over one of the crates in the corner. He taps the side of Legend’s head to signal him to lift it up and slides the material underneath. Legend grumbles his thanks, closes his eyes and leaves Hyrule to stew in his darkening anxiety.

There are no windows in the cabin, so Hyrule has no way of knowing where they are. He feels as if they are adrift in that little dinghy again, except now there are several blood-thirsty pirates on the platform above.

Hyrule sighs.

The waves beat against the hull, a steady, maddening metronome to his thoughts that eventually lull his weary mind to sleep.

-----

He wakes to the sounds of battle. Metal on metal, the hollow thump of wood, muted, fervent voices.

It’s loud, and it takes a few, heart-stopping moments for Hyrule to realise the fighting is coming from above them rather than his immediate surroundings. The boat – the battle is on the deck above and the wooden planks above his head creak and strain with the movement.

His gaze drifts to Legend and he is assured to see the steady rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps beside him.

“Legend,” he hisses, bringing a startlingly heavy limb over to shake him gently “Legend, I think- I think we’re being attacked.”

Nothing. Not a sound or a movement in response.

Hyrule takes a shaky breath. He can’t fight in the state he’s in; he can feel how is body is finally giving out on him and he doubts he could even stand up if he tried. He has no weapon; their swords were stolen from them by the pirates when they were first taken aboard.

There is a grunt of what sounds like pain and the fighting quietens. Then there are footsteps, far away at first and then… closer? Hylia, his depth perception is completely off, how close are they?

The door swings open and Hyrule scrambles shakily to his feet, adrenaline fuelling his body’s last stand as he raises his fists. He is aware, distantly of how pathetic he must look, but damn if he isn’t going to give all he’s got to protect his unconscious friend.

“Hyrule! Oh, thank Hylia you’re here.”

Relief drains the last dregs of energy from him as his vision clears to see Sky standing there, sword at the ready, and before he can catch himself his legs give out.

“Woah.” Sky catches him before his knees can hit the floor and he is lowered into a sitting position. “What happened?” He glances worriedly at Legend. “Where have you two been all this time?”

“He needs- he needs help,” he tells him, the words heavy on his tongue, “they beat him, I think he’s bleeding internally.”

Sky’s brows bunch together in worry and his hands leave Hyrule to check Legend.

“How long has he been unconscious?”

“I don’t know,” Hyrule admits helplessly, “I fell asleep a while ago, I- I don’t know.” There are more footsteps outside the door and Hyrule’s heart flutters again for a moment before Warriors appears. He’s out of breath and there’s blood streaked down one side of his face, but it doesn’t look like it’s his own.

“Hyrule!” he exclaims, relief evident on his face, “how did you get here? We’ve been looking for you for days!”

“Long story.”

“Do you think you can carry Legend?” Sky asks Warriors seriously, “Hyrule says he’s got some internal bleeding, I can’t tell how bad it is.” Warriors gives a solemn nod and doesn’t hesitate in striding to where Legend lies.

“He wouldn’t wake up,” Hyrule says shakily. His eyelids are growing heavy and he can’t muster the strength to keep the distress from his voice, “I- I tried, but he wouldn’t.”

“He’ll be okay,” Warriors assures him, the steadiness of his tone like an anchor in a stormy sea, “We’ll give him a red potion and he’ll be on his feet in no time.”

“Oh,” says Hyrule faintly, “that’s a relief.”

He keeps his eyes fixed on Legend as Warriors picks him up bridal style so as not to disturb his injuries too much. He has a vague thought about how utterly mortified Legend would be if he were awake right now before Sky helps him off the floor and slides an arm around his waist to steady him.

“We’re on Outset Island?” Hyrule asks, unable to keep the hope from his voice.

Sky nod.

“Yep. We saw the ship coming from miles away, we were well prepared. The others are checking the hull for stragglers.”

“Did you kill them all?” he asks quietly as they begin to move from the small storage cabin and out into the corridor beyond, “the pirates?”

“I think so,” replies Sky somberly. It’s never cause for celebration, killing those who were not created monsters at birth.

Hyrule nods, concentrating on putting one foot in front of another and keeping from putting too much of his weight on Sky. He can’t remember ever being this exhausted.

“Um... guys?”

Warriors’ voice comes from slightly ahead and as he and Sky turn a corner, they almost bump into him halted in the hallway.

Ahead of him is possibly the last thing Hyrule wants to see in this moment: the pirate captain. His hulking frame takes up almost the entire width and height of the hallway, towering above all three of them by a significant amount. His eye is vicious steel as he glares right at Hyrule.

“My men are dead,” he says in a tone that is bone-chillingly impassive, “I told you what I would do if you lied to me.” His eye flickers to Warriors and where Legend lies in his arms.

“Technically, I didn’t lie,” Hyrule reasons.

“You will not leave this ship alive,” he replies bluntly.

“Sky?” Warriors asks calmly, “you got this on your own? My hands are a little full.”

“No problem,” Sky replies lightly before leading Hyrule to the wall for balance and drawing the master sword.

The captain draws his own sword from his back, a huge, curved blade with a single edge sharper and more lethal looking than Hyrule has ever owned in his life. As Sky approaches him, he seems utterly dwarfed by the monster of the man in front of him, but he thrusts himself into the battle as if he is assured the upper hand.

The captain is, surprisingly, more of a match for Sky than Hyrule had expected considering he’s the best swordsman of them all. He is holding his own well, and though Hyrule would usually be entertained by such a fight, knowing in his heart that in the end his friend will win without much of an issue, he is tired and hungry and simply fed up. He wants this fight to end so he can get Legend a red potion and go to sleep, preferably for a very long time.

Making a split-second decision, he heaves himself from where he is leaning against the wall and staggers towards Warriors. His friend looks at him with alarm as he approaches drunkenly with determined fire in his eyes, but he does nothing when Hyrule reaches up and slides his sword right off his back.

“Er… Hyrule?” he asks in confusion. But Hyrule isn’t listening. He turns towards Sky and the captain; the latter’s back is turned towards him now and sweat drips from Sky’s face as he slashes and parries while simultaneously avoiding his opponents hooked hand which he uses as a second weapon in its own right.

Realistically, Hyrule knows Sky has this fight in the bag, and he is also aware that what he’s about to do is widely considered very bad etiquette. But as he raises Warriors’ sword above his head and stabs it straight through the back of the pirate’s mismatched coat and into his heart, he honestly feels very little in the way of regret.

Later he will reflect on this moment, consider what it means that he could kill his own kind so easily and with so little remorse. But for now his body sags over the hilt of the sword still buried in the pirates back, his body unwilling to spare him even the strength to retrieve it. Crimson flows and gathers around it the metal in his hands, making it warm and sticky and Sky’s shocked face appears as he steadies him.

“I think I’ll pass out now,” he tells him lightly.

“That’s okay,” Sky replies, “I’ve got you.”

And he falls beneath the waves of darkness.

-----

The first thing Hyrule notices when he wakes is that the world does not rock. It is blissfully, liberatingly still. The sound of waves is distant and peaceful rather than sickeningly close and seagull’s cries assure him that he has indeed found solid land once more.

He opens his eyes to a simple room of rough-hewn wood. Sunlight pours from the window and across the bed he lies in, the sheets smooth with a colourful quilt thrown carefully over the top. It would be peaceful if his head wasn’t aching so fiercely.

There is a jug and a cup of water on the nightstand beside him and he is quick to grab it with listless, heavy limbs. The water is a cool relief down his parched throat, though it makes him feel a little nauseous as it settles in his empty stomach.

He is about to pour himself another cup when he spots Legend sitting by the window. He is facing out towards the sea view and even though his back is to him, he can see the quiet melancholy in his posture. Physically though, Hyrule is relieved to notice, he seems fine.

“Legend?” he asks quietly, his voice cracking either from lack of hydration or use; he doesn’t know how long he had been asleep. Legend starts and brings a hand up to rub his face before turning to face him.

“You’re awake,” he notes, his voice just as hoarse as his own, “how are you feeling?”

“Not the best,” Hyrule admits, “but much better than before. Are you okay? Did the others fix you up with red potions?”

Legend nods. “Woke up about an hour ago. We’re at Wind’s Grandma’s house. Wind was right; her soup is the best I’ve tasted.”

His word are dull and somewhat distant. Hyrule frowns slightly.

“Are you really alright?” he asks gently.

Legend nods slowly, his eyes drifting back to the window, and it is a long moment before he speaks again.

“I thought we were going to die out there,” he admits eventually.

“Me too,” he agrees.

“For the record… it made it better for me as well. You being there. You’re… well, you’re my best friend, Hyrule.”

Hyrule smiles at Legend’s awkward, stilted version of his own confession out there on the little dinghy. To others, it might not seem like much, but Hyrule knows him well enough that he recognises that this is Legend’s equivalent of pouring his heart out.

“I’ve never had a best friend before,” Hyrule muses. “It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

Legend huffs in amusement turning back to face him, his ears noticeably red.

“Yeah,” he says. “It is kind of nice.”

#LULinktober #linked universe #lyra writes #blood #injury #violence #i've decided not to post the rest of my october prompts as they're not up to standard #this will be the last one this month

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