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The Gift [DirtyNerd x sweettea203]

DirtyNerd

Planetoid
Joined
Mar 8, 2016
Arcadia surveyed the throne room with shrewd calculating eyes, eyes that made Dura fidget nervously. The two demon lords were stark contrasts to each other. Where Arcadia was tall, broad and muscular, Dura was ancient, stooped, and frail. While Arcadia was strong and brash, Dura was sneaky and calculated. What it had taken Arcadia only 500 years to accomplish, Dura had spent nearly 5,000 gaining enough power and prestige to rule over the Kingdom of Luxure. Luxure was the largest kingdom within the second circle of Hell. The kingdom of Lefue, Arcadia’s Kingdom, was the most brutal. There were 5 major kingdoms within the borders of the 2nd Circle. For the past 10 years, Arcadia had been growing his forces and preparing to strike at one of his neighbors. Luxure was the prize jewel, of course. By conquering Dura’s kingdom and taking his power for his own, the other 3 kingdoms would not stand a chance against him, even with all their combined forces. Arcadia was a flood waiting to wash the whole lot of them away, starting fresh as the sole ruler of the entirety of the 2nd Circle. Still, his forces were not ready just yet and so he had accepted Dura’s invitation to his dwelling.

“Why have you asked me here, Dura,” Arcadia’s voice was low and ominous as his gaze continued to sweep Dura’s throne room as if he was already planning its redecoration.

Dura’s eyes darted back and forth, ever watchful as he picked the words he wanted to deliver. “How long have you ruled over Lefue, Arcadia? 10 years? Certainly no more than 15?” Dura began as he shuffled to an ornate throne crafted of precious metals. To Arcadia, it was a garish eyesore. He much preferred his own towering chair of smooth, black onyx. He would have to bring his own throne once Luxure was finally his and have this…. Thing…. Melted down for raw materials. “And we have never once exchanged pleasantries.”

“I don’t have the patience for pleasantries, Dura. The point. Get to it,” Arcadia said with a low rumbling growl.

Dura seemed to consider as he eased his old bones into his throne. He smiled now, as if he understood something that Arcadia did not. “Very well. I have asked you here to bestow on you a gift,” The old demon lord said with words that Arcadia could sense were dipped with venom. “You’re reputation is well known to me,” Dura continued. “And I thought you might miss you days roaming about in the mortal realm and seducing witches in return of their souls.” Arcadia snarled at the old snake. How had this bastard known about his time in the mortal realm? Obviously Dura’s resourcefulness had exceeded Arcadia’s expectations. He would have to be more careful.

Dura continued, his smug grin seeming to widen at Arcadia’s reaction. “Bring in the mortal witch,” he called over his shoulder to one of his servants.
 
Adeline had been sentenced to silence in a small, gloomy room for most of her stay in Hell. Her chamber contained a bed for sleeping and a dresser to hold her personal items (of which she had none). Together the bed and dresser composed the entirety of her new home: a damp, cold bedroom that was far from anywhere she would have liked to be. On occasion she was allowed to parade herself through the court, flouncing in the overly garish garb that Dura demandingly declared she would be wearing. Then she would fulfill her oath, coercing the most prominent members to reveal to her what they held most dear. And by the time she was done Adeline had broken loyalties and truces that demeaned Dura’s reign. But now it seemed he required something more from her, a request that would take her out from the sanctity and protection of his power. It was not in the deal she had made, and Adeline had protested bitterly before accepting that she had truly sold her soul to a monster.

Inside her room she struggled to present herself to the expectations of lustful demons. It was hard to keep a pleasing appearance when she had so little room to work with. Adeline seethed in solitude, skillfully tying the front of a revealing dress as she paced the distance from the bed to dresser. Her neckline plunged into a deep v, forming around the protruding curves of her breasts. At her waist a golden rose pin held together the sashes of her skirt, which she wrapped around herself artfully so that two slits arose, showing a breath of smooth skin. The dress was certainly more disclosing than anything she would have worn at home, and definitely more lavish than anything she could have afforded before her bargain with the demons. She ran her hands down the soft blue fabric, wistful for what she had left behind.

A messenger came for Adeline, leading her to the throne room. At the call of Dura she surged forward, brushing past the demons lining the halls with an air of confidence and arrogance. She held herself above the pathetic creatures that thrived on lustful desires, unable to function if they couldn’t meet the most primal needs. Her dark gaze searched the room until she found Dura, and the man to whom she was being handed over to. She had been told that this new Lord would be excited at her presence, but evidently that was not the case. Adeline felt uneasy as she fell into place beside Dura, curtsying and murmuring a demure greeting.

Adeline knew that she was unusually charming for a mortal woman. It was a trait she and all the former sisters of her coven had possessed. It was why Dura had been so drawn to make a deal with her. Adeline’s coven of witches had once held a sordid history of manipulating the demons with, some would say, ease. Yet, she did not see the same reaction to her on the new Lord’s face as she had seen on many other demon men. His clear unhappiness left her feeling anxious, and she glanced at Dura sourly, wondering what sort of torment he would bring to her next.
 
Arcadia’s smoldering gaze was filled with rage and hatred. Rage that Dura thought that he could play his trifling games with Arcadia. Rage that Dura thought Arcadia could be distracted from his goals. Rage over the fact that it was working. That gaze, still overflowing with his hatred for Dura focused on Adeline as she stood before him as an offering. Need surged through him as he remembered his past.

There was another witch, once upon a time and long ago. Arcadia had been little more than a Scavenger then, a lowly Demon whose task it was to clear the battlefields of Limbo of the fallen, maimed, and useless Demons who had fallen in battle. They were taken back to Butchers, who would recycle and repurpose the power of those Demons who had proven to weak to advance the main assault on the gates of Limbo as Demonkind sought to sunder their prison gates and advance en masse on the mortal world in the great culling that was to come. He had played a dangerous game back then and come out victorious. When a witch from the mortal plane had laid out a summoning, Arcadia had answered it to escape the enemies that would come looking for the power he had suddenly come to possess. To a Demon, time is meaningless. But the decades he spent in service to the witch had been pleasant enough. She sated his lust for blood by sending him for her enemies and she pleased the sinful needs of his body with her own. Helping her during his time on Earth, the witch had amassed great power.

And then she made a mistake. The witch mistook Arcadia’s contentment for love and she had grown to care for Arcadia as an advisor and as a lover. Foolish mortals. She did not realize, of course, that Arcadia was just biding his time. The lifespan of a mortal was but a flickering candle to that of a Demon’s and he was content to wait for hers to end while he hid himself in the relative safety of the mortal plane. And then she freed him. Arcadia could still hear the witch’s wail as he devoured her, stealing her power for his own and setting off across the mortal world to reap the world of mortal souls. It had been what had set him on the path to becoming Lord of Lefue.

Adeline was not the witch he had devoured, but she was a witch and Arcadia couldn’t help but wonder how delicious her lust for power could be, or how soft and warm her flesh would be beneath him. His skin burned as the tempest within him swelled. Need, anger, lust, hatred; all swirling in a maelstrom of past memories and future possibilities.

Still, he could perhaps swing this in his favor. A witch could more easily traverse the mortal realms to do his bidding. A witch could be a powerful servant. Not only that, but this mortal had obviously struck some kind of deal with Dura. No doubt the Lord of Luxure planned to use that covenant to get information about Arcadia, but this was a blade that could doubtless cut both ways.

Composing himself Arcadia nodded, though his hungry gaze never left Adeline. “I graciously accept your gift,” Arcadia said, his voice surly and grim. “Come witch, we leave immediately,” he said finally, beckoning her forth. At the top of Dura’s castle his chariot awaited. It was a cabin of bone and sinew pulled by winged demons attached to the flying chariot with barbed chains.
 
The demon’s gaze seemed to shift from rage to hunger in a matter of mere seconds. Adeline was taken aback by the intensely fierce stare that this demon, Arcadia she recalled dimly, was forcing upon her. She resisted the urge to shift uneasily, keeping a look of reserved contentment on her face despite the somber glare that threatened to break her demeanor. It was clear that she was unhappy about the many deals Dura had made. Adeline had agreed to be his pet, keeping tabs on the rumors and secrets of his court in return for the longevity of her coven. For her that meant playing with the lustful desires of demons, tactfully avoiding breaking her limits and leaving the court wanting for more of her. Adeline recognized that the game she had played in Dura’s turf would be vastly different from what would be required of her with Lord Arcadia.

From what she could understand, Adeline was vaguely aware of a sort of struggle for power between Lord Arcadia and the rest of the kingdoms of Hell. While she did not quite understand the intricate details, Adeline knew that Dura had placed her in an immense amount of danger by handing her over as a gift to his enemy. Surely Arcadia would be aware that she was bonded to Hell by Dura, given a gift in exchange for her soul and obedience. It would be unlikely, Adeline reasoned, that Lord Arcadia would be trusting of anything she had to offer him. That would make it even harder for Adeline to elevate her status beyond the simplicity of a creature to please the demands of lust. Even then, she would be watched carefully by the lord, which would render her unable to meet the requests of Dura. All in all, Adeline had no idea how she was to execute her plans successfully without the one of the demon lords ordering her death.

Lord Arcadia certainly didn’t sound excited to accept his gift, and appeared more sour than anything else. “Yes, my Lord,” she murmured, barely raising her voice above a whisper. She didn’t think it would make a difference, not expecting Arcadia to be eager for her conversation. She was, after all, a gift. And Adeline didn’t suppose that gifts were supposed to have much of an opinion, but were intended to satisfy cravings. She treaded after the Lord, the corner of her lips curling down in distaste when she saw the chariot that awaited them. The gruesome details of bones, blood, and sacrifices weren’t new to Adeline. As a witch she had commonly needed such resources in order to complete her spells. But she found it crude to construct something that was supposed to be magnificent into something that turned out more morbid. Although, it was Hell, and it was one of the less morbid things she had discovered in here time there.

Adeline stepped onto the chariot after Lord Arcadia, finding it odd to be so close to someone supposedly as dangerous and important as he.
 
Almost as soon as Adeline stepped into the chariot, the demonic gargoyles lurched into flight. The sudden pitching of the chariot nearly sent Adeline tumbling to the ground below them as it hurtled away from them, but Arcadia was there to grab her. Pushing the mortal witch to the front of the morbid chariot and placed a strong arm on either side of her to secure them both as the chariot ascended into the skies above Lust. Once the chariot leveled off, they could see the sprawling landscape of the lands of Lust below them. The terrain was like an extreme, twisted version of Earth’s. Huge forests of trees huddled together in giant craters. Water fell from cliffs high above them. At one point they even passed over a severe and barren desert. Sometimes hordes of demons could be seen roaming or fighting.

Finally, as they approached a barren wasteland of rocky mountains, Arcadia’s fortress came into view. It was an ominous and foreboding presence in an already stark landscape. This was a design feature for Arcadia as he did not want needless distractions from his chosen purpose, the expanding of his kingdom. The demon drawn chariot descended, pitching its passengers forward slightly as they spiraled there way to a landing in the highest reaches of the stone spires.

They had made the trip in silence, and silence reigned still as Arcadia guided his new gift into the depths of his castle. They went down a dizzying array of spiraling staircases and voluminous halls and it was impossible for anyone to keep track unless they had experience traveling the halls in the past. Eventually they came to a large, cavernous hallway. Demons made their way around the room with various intent. Some large and dangerous looking Demons huddled around a map of the realm while little stone figures marked the deployment of loyal and opposing troops. Other Demons, servants, cleaned and polished and delivering, bustled about and generally tried to stay out of the way. Along a far wall, betrayers and prisoners stood chained to the wall and tortured as their punishment. Arcadia gave Adeline a poignant look as they passed this last set of Demons.

They came, at last, to the foot of a great series of stairs that led up to his throne. Arcadia stopped at the bottom of the steps before finally speaking to Adeline. “I am no fool witch and it would be dangerous for you to assume me as such,” he said without elaborating on what he meant. “Serve me well here and I will elevate your position in my regard. Betray me,” he nodded to the demons who were shrieking in pain, “and you can join them. How did you come to be in the service of one such as Dura?” Arcadia asked as he started to head up the stairs to his throne, beckoning Adeline to follow.
 
Adeline bit her tongue, refuting the urge to elicit a pathetic squeal of surprise as the chariot nearly sent her tumbling to the ground. Arcadia reached out to her just in time, adjusting so that she was standing in front of him, both of his arms outstretched to prevent her from repeating her earlier mishap. She mumbled a soft spoken “thank you,” falling into silence as they ascended into the sky. Adeline had only ever seen Dura’s home. She had never left his domain, and her eyes grew wide in a mixture of wonder and horror as she looked down upon the lands of Lust. The terrain seemed a more dangerous, volatile version of the earth she knew. She couldn’t help but be fascinated by the stark differences.

Arcadia’s home was slightly more reminiscent of home. Adeline was born into a small merchant family. Her father had slight power over a small village. They lived comfortably, but life had been shadowed by dark, gloomy homes submerged in poverty. Aracadia’s fortress, however, left an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Dura had concealed his treachery with fine cloth and jewels, but Arcadai left shadows in his wake.

The many halls and staircases were a confusing labyrinth to Adeline. There was no possible way for her to become familiar with the fortress. Already she was lost, not quite sure how many stairs they had climbed up or down. She inhaled sharply when Arcadia traversed her through the large hallway, revealing to her an array of demons being punished against the wall. She shifted uneasily, recognizing his awareness of her threat.

Adeline was surprised that Arcadia beckoned her to follow onto the dais that hosted his throne. She trailed after him. “Rest assured, my Lord, I hold my safety and quality of life in high regard,” she remarked dryly. Adeline knew she had a careful game to play, gathering enough information and sharing it in a way that was convenient to both lords. She didn’t particularly favor one over the other, and was simply intending to survive until she was freed. “We made a deal,” she answered plainly, not leaving room for much elaboration. “He gave me the power I desired and in return I gave him my soul.”
 
Arcadia’s shrewd gaze narrowed as he considered Adeline. “Carefully guarded words indicate secrets, secrets that need to be encouraged to be shared,” he said, his voice as thin and dangerous as the edge of a finely sharpened blade. Though his voice was low, the other voices in the room seemed to quiet. As his scrutiny of her intensified and the sounds of the room around them died, the sound of the whips lashing were sharp and poignant seeming to emphasize his displeasure with her answer.

Finally Arcadia sat down and the pressure of his stare lessened as he considered Adeline’s words. Undoubtedly she had information he wanted about Dura. He also had little doubt that her bargain with Dura was entirely complete. She would have to be watched very closely.

“My place as a Demon Lord in Lust was hard fought, witch. I did not plot and scheme my way out of servitude like your master Dura did. I clawed and bit, I ripped and rent my way to power. I fought at the gates of Limbo for 150 years. This I did long after Dura buried his knife in the back of those he would feign loyalty to. Careful that you don’t end up with that same knife buried in your back,” he warned her. “Such is Dura’s way. Placate and flatter the strongest of his opponents. Let them see him as the frail old miscreant that he is. Wait until the contentment sets in and your back is turned and then cut deeply and run away. I will ascend to the heavens before he ever sets such a trap for me!” Arcadia bellowed, shaking the hall around them as his fist fell hard against one of the arm’s of his black onyx throne. The demons of the throne room all fell silent as he did so, all afraid that it had been them that had summoned Arcadia’s ire. When it was apparent that they had not, laughs and cackles echoed behind them.

Arcadia relaxed visibly and he reclined slightly into the back of his throne. Scaring the witch wasn’t going to convince her to betray Dura. She said she had asked for power. Arcadia could understand this desire and it was perhaps something he could work with. “Dura’s days are numbered in this land, witch,” Arcadia promised. “Help me with that and you can spit on his corpse. We will start simple. Tell me your name, witch, and what services you might offer me, other than a warm, wet sheath for my cock,” he said with a wicked grin, inspiring another wave of laughter around the hall.
 
Arcadia’s tone cut to the bone. Adeline tried not to shrink back as he gripped her in his sharp, narrow gaze. Demonstrating intimidation would only give him more power over her, and Adeline was already fairly helpless. All she had left were the secrets she carried, and those she would have guard as if they were precious jewels. Even when the rest of the demons quieted, the sounds of the lashing continued to vibrate in the air.

“Lord Dura was not my master,” she corrected carefully, her back stiffening. Adeline was a prideful woman. She was no one’s servant. Arcadia thought mightily highly of himself, and Adeline bit her tongue as he shouted in the hall. Dura wasn’t as stupid as Arcadia seemed to think. The old demon wasn’t looking to usurp the younger man, but simply wanted to ensure his own survival. Dura was selfish, he only looked to keep his own interests safe. World domination was not his goal, but survival was.

“I am loyal to no demon,” Adeline clarified, speaking as Arcadia visibly relaxed into his seat. “Neither you nor Dura,” she added pointedly. In hell, the only person Adeline would look out for would be herself and the legacy of her coven. She had no bonds to anyone else, and she only cared about surviving long enough to be released.

Adeline would have preferred to spit upon both Dura’s and Arcadia’s grave, but she did not speak so boldly. “Adeline, my lord. My name is Adeline Ikante.” She thought he would recognize the surname. The Ikante was a clan of irresistible witches that had once thrived on earth, cowering all other supernatural into submission. Through the years they had lost their strength, but with Adeline as their coven leader they were once again gaining strength.

She ignored the laughter, hoping a blush wouldn’t appear upon her cheeks. “Surely you know of the services I provide, my lord,” she stated coyly, glancing about the hall at the other demons. “It must be obvious already. Not many demons are capable of withstanding the allure of an Ikante witch.”
 
“Careful, witch,” Arcadia warned, leaning forward on his throne and licking the fangs that his dangerous and hungry smile still showed. “You are far too casual with your assertion that your loyalty belongs to none of my kind. I have killed for much less,” he said, his voice rumbling like the distanced thunder of an oncoming storm. But the demon lord did not attack her, he merely leaned back into his throne again and measured Adeline thoughtfully.

The name Ikante sounded familiar to Arcadia, though he could not readily place where he had heard it. What was even more interesting than his apparent familiarity with the name, was the connection Adeline had just given him. “So you are an Ikante, are you?” the demon lord said as he savored the taste of the knowledge she had given him. “Now, you are an alluring morsel indeed,” Arcadia chuckled darkly, licking his lips. This was information that he could use. But what was his best tool? Did he threaten the witches of her brood to get what he wanted from her? Or perhaps temptation….

Arcadia stood up slowly, his powerful form towering over Adeline as he began to stalk around her. Sliding up behind her, Arcadia slid a powerful arm around her. One massive hand cupped her face, firmly but not cruelly, to hold her still as he whispered in her ear. “You bare the name so proudly my little witch,” his gravelly voice purred in her ear. “You must care deeply for your coven,” his voice was as dangerous as a sharpened dagger, dripping with malice as if it were poison. “I wonder,” he thought aloud behind her, “If Dura ever let you speak with your coven? You must burn with curiosity in their well-being, no? I can arrange for you to make contact with them, Adeline. I can make it so you can speak directly with them and ensure their prosperity. For a price.”

Arcadia spun adeline around so that she was looking out at the vast expanse of Demon’s below them. Every one of them had stopped what they were doing and were watching the pair up on the raised dais. Not only that, but the demons seemed to be have multiplied, filling the room en masse until it was a sea of roiling bodies all watching Arcadia raptly. “Bear my mark,” Arcadia whispered in her ear. “Bear my mark and I will project your spirit into the mortal realm to speak with your kin in private.”
 
The very tone of Arcadia’s voice sent chills down her spine. Adeline tried not to flinch. She wasn’t scared, exactly. At least, she would never admit to being scared. But she was certain, with every bone in her body that struggled not to quiver as Arcadia casted dark looks at her, that she was very intimidated by the man. At her side her hands curled into fists, her nails digging in to the tender skin of her palms in an attempt to calm her. For a moment she nearly thought the demon would attack his new gift, and a breath of magic wavered at her fingertips before he leaned back in his seat. Not that the magic would do anything to him other than momentarily stun him at her audacity, but the feeling of her power gave her strength.

The Ikante witches had once been the most powerful of covens, leading the other witches in times of both darkness and peace. There was a time when they reigned at the side of kings and emperors. But those days had long passed, and somehow the Ikante witches found themselves being hunted by every creature living in the mortal world. They were known for being irresistible to demons, possessing a dark beauty that few had the will to pass by.

Adeline didn’t dare to move an inch as Arcadia stalked around her. When Adeline realized he was trying to tempt her with bribes, she nearly laughed. She knew what she was losing when she had made her deal with Dura. She didn’t struggle against his grasp, but remained perfectly still. “I’ve already made one deal with a demon,” Adeline remarked dryly, “and I have no desire to make another.” One deal with a demon was dangerous enough, but bearing Arcadia’s mark would interfere with her commitment to Dura. And that would result in certain death.

“I wonder why you are so keen for me to be marked as your possession,” she mused quietly. Arcadia wanted her, and badly, but to what ends? “I’ve changed my mind. I will offer a different proposition, my lord.” She smiled sweetly. “Release me from my bonds to Dura, and I will bear any mark you so desire.”

If Arcadia agreed, then Adeline would have a fighting chance to win her freedom and life back in the mortal realms. Returning to her home one day was worth more than an eternity of speaking to her coven as a shadow.
 
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