Sword & Shield

[As Day Fades]

Another battlefield. Another day. He hated it. He loathed it. Fact of the matter was, he was seen covered in blood more often than not, seen dirtied by the earth, seen burning candlestick after candlestick to stave off the night while spending its hours around a table of modeled figures, examining, re-examining the army's next move. That didn't mean he took an ounce of joy in it, however. It simply was his duty.

Prince Tierian Alyren, second prince of his father's kingdom, of the noble Tamur.

His duty. His older brother spent his time in affairs of state, being raised with the crown in mind, his closest comings to a battlefield being the tent where the encounters were meticulously planned. But even then he often seemed aloof, trusting in his brother's judgements he'd say, so perhaps the closest he ever came to the battlefield were Tierian's stories. Either way, this was the second prince's burden to bear: this sword, and this field of brothers. Months of planning had led to this, to this new battle against the rival kingdom of Ellencia, this only one in a string of many. What started as border skirmishes erupted two years ago when a small village was sacked, the village itself trite in the grand size of things but a catalyst for a dissent long-brewing between two rival kingdoms. Blows were traded, battles were fought, with Ellencia taking the first two, but the Tamurian army had succeeded in every battle since, reclaiming their lost ground and driving the enemy back into their own territory. Then following them there, hearty shouts filling their marching paths for weeks, courage healing the men's wounds. Tamur was on a roll, but in this battle particular, no more than an hour out from the Ellencian town of Iona, things were going different. Things were going very, very different.

"We're being flanked!" Tierian shouted, standing in a field of other shouting men, his voice a din in the mix, his body only one armored form amidst a steel and leather sea. It was no use. Up on the hill, a bit of distance away, he could see two thousand of his cavalry just standing there. There, just there. Watching. Quickly the armored prince's brown eyes caught a flash of steel in his peripheral vision, a flash dissimilar to the mass of bodies all around - one coming in an arc toward him, from the right. Quickly he raised his halberd up and to the side, deflecting the blow with the steel length of the pole, armored feet spinning him around on well-trampled grass. Tierian took two quick steps forward with that fine-tipped bottom of the halberd swinging up and knocking against the Ellencian man's greatsword, followed by a quick charge and a hard shoulderblock, teetering the warrior off balance just enough for Tierian to shift his body weight, swinging from the side now in a vicious, wide, overhead slash. There was barely time to regain that lost balance, and not nearly enough to bring his greatsword up before the unforgiving axehead of the halberd collided with the full helmet the knight wore, encaving the helm against the man's skull in nothing short of a bloody mess.

He was a target out here, this armor, bearing proudly his father and grandfather's crest. But it was just as much a boon to his men that he stand shoulder to shoulder with them.

Now, where was he?

Tierian whipped back around, looking off to the distance, his head turning about wildly. Ellencia's reinforcements had taken him off guard. His advisers had been so adamant about the opposing army being short on men, yet he was standing among a battle of many of thousands of footmen now, his soldiers suddenly outnumbered two to one. The enemy's forces had been supplemented by another squad of men, and now he saw a squad of spearmen appearing through the trees, having swung around back in order to flank he and his soldiers. Why weren't his own reinforcements acting? The archers should be firing upon those spearmen and his cavalry should be... should be...

Slaughtering his own archers?!

Had a man's face ever been so deathly pale as it was then? Shrouded by a helm or not, it showed in his entire body. His shoulders slumped. Clutching to the length of his halberd, Tierian remained otherwise still. Watching. Just watching horsemen bearing his army's banner trampling through his lines of archers. "What..." he managed between barely parted lips, shaking his armored helmet back and forth. The sounding shouts of the spearmen to the right were getting louder now. They were charging. He was about to be outnumbered three to one. No, it was more than that now, wasn't it? He stood there. Just stood there. The prince's honor guard fought valiantly all around him as he simply stared off toward the hill. Those horsemen... Lord Cappoli's men, weren't they? Three months ago, had that man not been hailed as one of the king's staunchest allies? There was no way. There was... there was no way. Slowly the prince's head turned about, to one side, then casually to the other. Thinking. Quietly assessing, despite the chaos he stood at damn near the center of. The sight of his blue banners amidst the sea of orange ones was fading.

A sharp ding on the right side of his armor sobered the shock from his head quickly. Whirling about, bladed polearm held at the ready, Tierian caught sight of the assailant as two of his bodyguards were pulling their own weapons from his slain body, one a heavy axe, the other a longsword. There was a brief nod before each turned back to the fighting. Blinking, blinking hard, Tierian murmured beneath his helm, "Traitorous... I can't believe. Not you, damnit!" He stepped forward to rejoin the fighting, thinking hastily, thinking to himself as his bloodied halberd swung and lunged, eating through leather, sparking against steel. 'If we... the river, we can lose them. There's already a cloud of dust everywhere.' Swing. Clang. 'Three hundred, maybe four... we'd never make it out with enough... scraps... fuck, fuck, what do I do?!'

Which one of his guards carried the horn? There was no avoiding it. Pull out now, desperately save as many of his soldiers as he could. There was no reason they all had to die here today - such was a false sort of honor, if done blindly. He was a hero of is people but he would still have to face the king for this loss. Regrettably, he needed to sound the retreat.

"Percival!" He shouted, striding toward the axeman, one of two trusted honor guards that carried the horn. A hand reached out to grasp at the man's shoulder, "Perc-"

And then he saw it, though saw it only very, very briefly. The thunder of hooves wasn't felt amidst the battle until too late. The cavalry that had turned on his archers now turned on the main force, boxing them in from a third side. One of the large, heavy beasts careened past, its mass of muscle and fur colliding against the prince, sending him flying several feet and into a roll that took him several more.

What a horrible time to lose consciousness.

 

[Devxx]

The figure sat proudly upon the black stallion as they watched the battle unfold beneath them. The cries of war could clearly be heard from all corners of the valley as man after man flashed their swords and brought them down on their enemy. The earth was drenched with blood as soldiers were cut down in the throws of battle. Gray eyes surveyed the scene as a slight smirk formed on the helmeted face as the Ellencian banner waved proudly in the air. At first it had seemed as if this battle was evenly matched but soon those odds changed as reinforcements arrived and the enemy was pushed back towards a retreat. Before this battle was over the land would be littered with the bodies of the soldiers of Tamur. This would be a decisive victory with Ellencia with their king’s brave lion leading the charge.

Keara Tarrion, the savior of Ellencia and the King’s Lion. A name known throughout the land of Ellencia and feared by many who ever met Keara in battle. She was the leader of the king’s army and crowned as the royal knight. Ever since this war began a mere two years ago she had spent almost every day since then either on the battle field or in meetings with advisors talking about the war. At first the court was shocked to discover that their leader would appoint a woman to such a position of power but her strength and intelligence in battle soon showed itself and even the men who were under her would now happily give their lives to the lion. Waving her banner high in the air she charged down leading the cavalry to deal the finishing blow that would surely cripple the rest of the enemy forces. Some quick political dealing had turned Tamur’s greatest ally against them and together they would quickly finish with the remaining forces.

“Keara, we have captured him.” Turning to her side she could see her captain coming towards her as two more of her man dragged a body behind them. From the man’s armor it was obvious that he was none other then Prince Tierian, the youngest prince of Tamur. Perfect. By bribing the prince’s guards they had brought down the warrior and had even managed to capture him while his men were slaughtered now that their leader was gone. Now not only would they be able to reclaim this land but they also had a valuable bargaining chip to finally bring an end to the war. True he wasn’t the crown prince but no doubt his father would be very eager to get him back in once piece. Pointing behind her she ordered for them to carry him back to the tent while they finished up here. The enemy was on the ropes now and already she could see a few of them retreating from the approaching soldiers. This would all be over soon enough and then she could fully focus her attention on the fallen prince.

-------------------------

The sun began to set as the field that had only that morning been filled with shouts and cries was now oddly quiet. There had been casualties on both sides but Tamur had suffered a great deal more then they had. At least a hundred men had fallen dead and fifteen of the higher-ranking soldiers had been captured. The rest had turned tail and run like cowering dogs. Even with the injuries this was still a great victory for their side and it marked a turn in the war for them. A clang could be heard as metal fell to the floor as she hurried to remove her armor. Moving a wet rag over her face she removed the sweat and blood that had drenched her from the battle this morning. Her muscles were sore and her back ached but there was still a smile on her face as she thought of the decisive victory they had just won. Not to mention the valuable prize they had also gotten.

“Sir, we have the prince set up in your tent like you asked.” Captain Nikoli said as he walked over to her. Keara has asked for the prince to be tied and bound on a chair and to be waiting for her in her tent so they could finally have a nice one on one conversation. To say that she had a personal grudge against the prince would be putting her hatred very lightly. They had met time and time again in the battlefield where he had mowed down her men time and time again. They were rivals through and through and at every opportunity they tried their damndest to kill the other. Yet with this one battle that delicate balance had fallen and she had risen as the stronger of the two. Now she would get the opportunity to lord it over him as she made him pay for all of her men that he had killed.

“That’s fine. I’ll be there shortly.” Keara said before dismissing the captain so he could finally get some much-needed rest.

Her auburn hair swung down her back from the loose ponytail as she pulled down her tunic over the leather trousers. Most would do a double take at the sight of a woman in man’s clothing but around here the men were used to it. She could have easily been mistaken for another soldier if it wasn’t for the medallion she wore around her neck. On the solid gold medallion was carved the royal crest of Ellencia studded with rubies and sapphires.

If one didn’t know just who she was they could have easily mistaken her for another pretty bar wench. Her body was slender and curvy unlike the muscled soldiers who followed her. Her face looked like that one would find on a doll instead of the gruff one that most would think would be on the Lion of Ellencia. Of course that only worked towards her advantage when she needed to get information out of an enemy.

Walking towards her tent she opened the flaps and saw a figure slumped over a chair. His hands had been tied behind his back with a thick rope that he wouldn’t be able to break. His armor had been stripped and he had been left in the thin clothes he wore beneath it. So this was the prince who had been a thorn in her side this entire time. Red lips turned into a smirk as she looked down on him with malice in her eyes. She would make him pay for everything he had done and would turn Tamur’s brave hero into nothing more then a sniveling little bitch.

Reaching onto the table that served as her desk she picked up a flask filled with water. Walking towards him she dumped the contents on his head unceremoniously. “It’s time to wake up your highness.” The last word was said more for the sake of irony then anything else.

 

[As Day Fades]

The first thing he saw was a blur. The first thing he felt was confusion, was disorientation. Those were the first. The seconds things that he saw and that he felt were the roof of the tent and the hard, unforgiving earth, Tierian's brown eyes wincing when his head bounced against the ground. His captor had tilted his chair back, sending him crashing backward; apparently the orders to prepare him for the Lion's arrival held nothing about not getting in a few pot shots along the way.

"Grr-unghh..." The groan was simple, reactive. Tierian's head tilted left and right slowly as he blinked and blinked, closing his eyes hard, opening them wide. A fist seized his still-dampened hair, jerking him and the wooden chair upright - upright, setting him up for a fist that came viciously from one side. His body twisted against the coarse hemp rope, the unforgiving material already chafing his bare wrists. Then another fist, this across the other cheek. Hazy. Still dizzy... He couldn't yet make out where he was or what was going on. There was just a sharp burning sensation from what felt like several blows to his ribs, several blurry forms encircling him, spitting, slapping. Taunting. Tight as the ropes were around his wrists and ankles, when left untouched the prince lurched forward as much as he could, arms straining, violently coughing. That long, dampened brown hair that usually reached to and sat lightly upon his shoulders now half clung to his sweat-slicked face and neck and half dangled freely with the forward lurch. They were leaving now. Blinking heavily, again and again, he couldn't make out much other from the sights and sounds than that they had been men, that he was tied up, and that he had been struck numerous times.

What happened...?

Sitting back with a groan, with a wince, Tierian's abs ached no matter which way his weight shifted. "Fuck," he murmured, breaths coming in short, light spurts. Shoulders slumped. Eyes moved about, things starting to come into focus. A tent. He was in a tent. From the looks of it an important one, just by its size. Was he a prisoner? He was tied up. He could feel the ropes now. God, did they really need to be this tight? Why was he not in a proper holding area? ...because it'd have been unmistakable who he was, for sure. Blinking hard, everything was still a little blurry. There was one thing he caught sight of that sobered the fallen hero up quickly though, something that chilled him from his spine to his very soul - to the left, by the door, were a pair of Ellencian banners set on either side of the tent's entrance.

Tierian's head dipped, his face enshrouded in cascading brown locks. His stomach was empty. His very core went cold. He was an Ellencian prisoner. What... when had he... He remembered sounding the retreat, eyes shutting tight now, trying to remember. ...No, no, did he get that far? He was going to. He was going to sound it, but he had to find either Gregory or Percival first. They were surrounded. They were being slaughtered, more akin at that point to animals than soldiers. Thousands... thousands... Something happened. He didn't remember what, but he couldn't recall what had occurred after trying to find one of his honor guards with a horn to sound a retreat. Had the rest of them gotten away? ...They had to, he assured himself. There was no way, some of them... no way they'd have fallen to half-assed Ellencian men. Even know, without knowing the casualties Tierian assured himself the battle was a loss, but only a setback; within a month there'd be a new surge that would have these bastards quivering in their boots. And in half that time he'd be free.

A sobering stream of lukewarm water cascaded from the top of his head.

Lifting his gaze, water trickling across his forehead, down his cheeks, and from his shoulder-length hair to his shoulders and neck, Tierian looked up. His eyes were still sore a bit, his whole head aching really, but it was improving. He could make out the woman standing before him. He heard her words, too. Your Highness. Yeah, they knew who he was. Tierian looked to her only briefly, acknowledging her, gazing into her gray eyes a moment, then eyeing her physical form. Was she a nurse? That would make sense, them wanting to make sure their goldmine was in good health. Tierian wondered how much they'd stick Tamur for for his return; instantly after, though, he was strick with a pang of guilt for them having to pay anything. How could he have been so blind as to lose? He should have seen it. Should have spent more time preparing, should have been smarter about his allies... should have... But if she was a nurse, she sure wasn't dressed the part. His eyes narrowed at her quizzically. A messenger? Perhaps.

Behind her and slightly to the side he could see his removed armor, silver accented with teal, the coat of arms displayed over the left breast a gryphon gripping a bushel of arrows in each talon and a snake in its beak. His halberd was leaning up against the desk. That left him tied up in a simple cotton short sleeve shirt and pants, a simple leather belt, and light leather boots. The once-rich colors of his shirt, also displaying his family's crest, a crest that had become the symbol of Tamur, was heavily blotched in parts with blood. It wasn't Tierian's, he was without any major injury; it was the blood of numerous Ellencian soldiers, slaying so many in the fray that this much dripped down through his armor to stain his shirt and pants.

He also saw a second set of armor he recognized, this one set on a stand and likely due to be cleaned and shined. It made his blood run cold, telling him exactly whose tent he was in, Then, immediately after, that same blood boiled.

The Lion of Ellencia.

"Leave, wench," Tierian snarled, eyes on the armor, no longer looking at her. "Go fetch him. I'll speak to this cowardly lion myself... Couldn't beat me without treachery? Rather tie me up than face me like a man? You run and tell your 'hero' that a cornered animal is twice as dangerous!"

 

[Devxx]

Keara got a good look at the man as he finally lifted his head up. Her captain and soldiers had roughed him up quite a bit and there was blood on his clothing as well as bruises on his face. No doubt by now a couple of his ribs would be be bruised and at the very least he'd have some cuts here and there. Her men were not known to be very gentle and when it came to the man sitting in front of her they probably would have liked nothing more then to beat him to within an inch of his life. He was responsible for the deaths of many of their friends and comrades. She herself had seen a number of good men fall by his sword and had every intention of making him pay for each and every one that the slayed. There would be no mercy for the prince and for the first time in his life he would experience just what hell they could bring to him. Of course, it wasn't just physical pain he would suffer. No, bruises went away and even the worst kind of physical torture couldn't compare with the mental hell he would have to go through. In this camp he would become nothing more then a hollow shell of the once proud prince. She would see to that herself.

"Wench?" Keara parroted through gritted teeth. This fool standing before her had actually dared to call her a wench. He thought of her as nothing more then probably a serving girl or a nurse instead of the mortal enemy he had faced time and time again. There was anger in her eyes as she looked down at him and her hands balled up into fists. It had been so long since anyone had dared talk to her in such a manner and she wouldn't stand for it in her own tent. Of course the sniveling idiot in front of her couldn't possibly wrap his mind around the idea that a woman could possibly be his rival. His kind were not known to be very open minded and a prince was raised in a chauvinistic environment where all the women he encountered were probably seen as property of sorts. Well now, that was another one of his little ideas that she would have to take great pleasure in breaking.

"Oh my dear prince. You truly are a complete fool." There was a smirk on her face as she leaned down so that her own gray eyes stared directly at his brown one's. She trailed a finger down the side of his face in an almost caring gesture as the smirk turned into a smile like a hungry cat might give a nice, plump mouse. "Or have generations of inbreeding turned you into a blind moron who can't even seen what's in front of his own face." Her medallion could be clearly seen now as she trailed her finger down to his neck though now she pressed her nail deep into his skin so a thin trail of blood could be seen. Her gray eyes held only hatred and a desire to harm as she looked to him and then the blood that was now flowing down the side of his face.

"As for the cowardly lion, well... you're looking at her." With another smirk she balled her hand into a fist before sending it flying towards his stomach. There would be enough force in the blow to knock the wind out of him as well as damage his ribs a bit. Despite her small and slender frame she was stronger then her size let on and years in the battlefield had taught her just where to hit in order to cause an enemy the most amount of damage with the least amount of force. No doubt he would be doubled over in pain as she reached over and grabbed a handful of his hair before pulling his head back at a sharp angle. "How does it feel your highness? Finally meeting face to face after all this time?" Keara let out a chuckle that could freeze blood as she pulled on his hair tighter. The power she felt over him right now was intoxicating and she had no desire to give it up any time soon.

"I do hope you like your accommodations considering you'll be with us for quite some time. As will a few of your men that we captured before the rest ran away like the cowardly dogs they are." She taunted him with the knowledge that his men were being held prisoner as well as himself and that they wouldn't be out of here any time soon. Political negotiations took a lot of time to work through and a price for the hostages wouldn't be settled for at least a month or so. That would give her plenty of time to try out her new toy and break every damn bone in his body.

"Don't worry though. I plan on making your stay here as unforgettable as possible." The grin was back as she lifted her fist once more before bringing it down on the side of his cheek. It would leave a pretty nasty bruise that would take quite some time to heal. "See, your time here is going to be your own personal hell for you to pay for all the Ellencian lives you have taken like the dog that you are. And to show you you're place I've decided to bestow you the great honor of being my personal little bitch." Keara ran her nails over his neck and drew more blood as she brought her face closer to his. Some of her auburn hair had escaped the loose ponytail giving her the appearance of an ancient war goddess preparing for battle.

The prince would suffer, that much was certain.

 

[As Day Fades]

The blow to the gut lurched his body forward, as forward as he could with that rough hemp rope straining, reddening the bare skin of his wrists. Beneath a veil of long brown hair that whipped about to cover his face, dangling around all sides, Tierian winced. The punch wasn't as strong as a man's, but this woman knew something of precision, that's for sure, and that made up for it with room to spare. The next breath he took was sharp, was between gritted teeth, and as she whipped his head back, hair moving away so they could stare one another down again, there was a slight smirk tugging at the corner of the prince's lips. That smirk held as she continued to berate him, but then the second punch came, careening his head to a side, his shoulders shifting with the blow, the chair teetering with it just slightly. Tierian then sunk against his wooden shackles. This woman was in a serious tiff, wasn't she? But still he chuckled some, low, his face masked again by that shoulder-length hair.

He chuckled, a sound that grew from a low decibel to something more audible over the course of a few seconds once she was finished speaking. His shoulders still slumped, as did his body, but his head rose, hair falling back in place save for a few that still clung to the sweat of his cheeks and neck, not to mention the tiny new beads of crimson the arrogant cunt had summoned forth. "Perhaps you didn't hear me," he said with an amused, toothy laugh. "I asked for the Lion, not the Lioness. I recognize that medallion... a gift, was it? Is your claim to fame that you warm his bed, little wench?" A snicker. Then, despite his predicament, Tierian's eyes most unashamedly left her gray orbs, scanning over the curves of her body. Normally, among his people, he was known as something of a gentleman, this only part of his reputation to go along with his valor and his roguishly charming looks, but now, right now, this was not a situation that called for civility. "A man both hates his rival and respects him, so I feel no hesitance in admitting I applaud his taste in women. Tail like yours could very well stand up against some of the more moderately attractive women in my land."

These people were going to hate him no matter what. He was Prince of their sworn enemy and the leader of its army. His personal exploits, as of this most recent battle, would see him boasting to have slain a full hundred Ellencian men, with countless more having fallen before his tactics, and the aid of his father's politics. The motions would be gone through. He would be roughed up, punched a bit, tossed in a holding area where the soldiers took shifts not so much guarding him as they would take turns glaring at him, wishing they had both the permission and the ability to outsword such a captive. No, they would keep him bound, poorly fed, rough him up some and return him once negotiations were complete. If they'd wished his death Tierian would never have woken up. The fact that he was conscious now reassured him that they would do no serious harm. He was well acquainted with the way things like this went. And until the time of his freedom came the last thing he would do was show any fear, especially to the lover of his rival.

Their faces were close now, she draping her fingers along his neck, brown and gray intent on staring one another down. "Go. Fetch your man," he said with a smirk. Then, with little warning, a mouthful of saliva spat its way across the slight distance between them, crashing against the bridge of her pretty little nose, splashing outward. Chuckling still, "If he wishes his personal maiden - his wench - to keep me company, then perhaps you should be a bit more hospitable. You do know how to work a man with those lips of yours, don't you? I'll bet you do, surrounded by all these tents... But unless you're going to show me some respect, fetch your Lion!" A sharp snarl overtook, chestnut hair falling about either cheek. "If he is not a coward then he will release me, he will equip me and he and I shall settle this like men! Anything less and your 'hero' is hiding behind these damned ropes!" His wrists tugged sharply at the bonds, his ankles doing what they could to join in the strain, accomplishing only his own discomfort. "You go, and you tell him that, woman." The snarl lingered for a moment, then subsiding back to a snicker. "Be a dear, don't forget to shake those hips on your way out."

 

[Devxx]

Arrogant little prick. Of course he still assumed that she was just playing some sort of game with him and that there could be no way she was his rival. Wrapping his mind around the idea that a woman bested him would probably be too much for his tiny brain and cause it to explode. No, instead he chose to sit there smirking while heaping on insult after insult. Whatever comments he made about her appearance didn’t seem to phase Keara one bit. After all, if she cared much about fashion of looks she would have chosen a different profession that didn’t involve her having to spend most of her time in dirty and blood. Yet his thoughts on her role in this camp did nothing to calm her temper. When first starting out she had heard more then her fair share of those comments yet over time they had stopped completely and the men now viewed her as an equal to them in battle. Yet this bastard had the gall to come in here and accuse her of being little more then a bedmate for the lion. Well now, that just wouldn’t do.

Gray eyes widened in surprise and then anger as she felt his spit hit her nose before she brushed it away harshly with her sleeve. Her blood was boiling like never before as she looked down at him with gritted teeth. Hands once again formed into fists and it looked like she was going to strike him and yet suddenly that all changed. Her hands loosened their grip and the gray eyes turned eerily calm like the peace before the storm. No, she would make him pay for this but not through hitting him. Hell, they could rough him up time and time again and that arrogant attitude would probably never break. If she was going to hit the prince she was going to do it where it hurt the most. His sense of honor and loyalty would be punished for what he had just done.

“Captain.” Keara called out as she looked down at Tierian with a twisted smile on her pretty face. “Yes sir?” The gruff man said as he entered the tent. He could still see the prince sitting in the chair while Keara stood over him with a look that chilled the older man to the bone. He had seen that smile twice before and knew that nothing good could possibly come of it. “I believe we’ve been quite rude to our guest. Don’t you think it’s time we showed him just how hospitable we can be?” Keara said lazily as she pulled her dagger out of her pocket and held it up to Tierian’s neck. Grinning, she brought it down to cut the ties that bound his legs and also kept him in the chair. His wrists would still remain tied behind his back but at least now he could leave the confines of his seat. The captain came over and placed a firm hand on the prince’s shoulder in case he was thinking of taking this opportunity to escape.

“Take the prince outside to the practice fields. He looks like he could use some company and I’m sure that his comrade would be happy to see him. What was his name? Percival?” There was nothing short of malevolence in her tone as she watched the captain pull Tierian up by his collar and drag him out of the tent towards the practice fields where a show would begin shortly. Keara herself went to talk to one of the guards before going to join them.

In ten minutes time they were joined by another group of her men until a sort of semi-circle had formed in the field. Off in the distance they could see a figure being dragged on the ground by two of her knights. The man’s face was scratched and bruised and his clothes were torn and hanging off his body. Yet enough could be seen to know that he was one of Tamur’s soldiers who had been captured in the battle. The man was dragged into the very center of the group so all could get a good look as to what was about to happen.

“Your comrade will pay for your arrogance, highness. You chose to see me as some common whore instead of the very knight who bested you in battle and now blood will have to be spilled for your arrogance.” Keara turned to look at him with another smile and pushed him forward so he could get a really good look at just what was about to happen. “When I give the order my men will cut every single limb from his body bit by bit until he screams for the gods to grant him the mercy of death. You will watch him die because of your actions and know that there are fourteen more who will meet a grizzly fate if you continue to act as you did.” The two guards near the kneeling man pulled out their swords at the ready for when she gave the order.

Keara stepped closer to Tierian so that her lips brushed against his ear as she spoke in a soft tone. “Know, dear prince, that his blood is on your hands as we send his soul off to the fiery pits of hell.”

 

[As Day Fades]

Never had one been so surprised to get the very thing they asked for. Tierian did not flinch one bit as this woman stared him down, for to him she was trifle, she was just a thing. She held no weight, simply a nuisance until her master appeared and this could all then be settled by men. When she called the captain in he didn't look away, brown orbs locked on her gray, staring her down, never once dulling in intensity despite his predicament. That intensity did falter a bit when he heard her command, even showed with a degree of confusion when the ropes binding his ankles were actually freed. Then the order came, and he rose, but not without a wicked wince and a gasp of air. The prince's ribs were hurt bad. They'd been sore going into the battle, had worsened as the fight went on, and the cheap shots just now did nothing to better the sharp pain. But as soon as the display had come it was gone, Tierian taking a breath and shifting his weight to the other side. He stood, glancing between the captain and the wench. Then, again, that smirk was present.

So, Percival was alive. That was excellent. Better if the man had gotten away, but he would have to trust that to one of his other honor guards for now. Tierian said nothing. Wrists still behind his back, his shoulders relaxed and he simply walked, letting them lead him where they would. There was a bit of a surprise that he wasn't blindfolded. He was being shown invaluable information, from their tent formation to the wellness of their soldiers, to how many arms and food were laying in crates here and there, to an idea of the size of the camp as a whole. He was too in the middle of things right now to really see, but if he could get to a hilly part of the camp he'd be able to get a better idea of where they were located as well, at least in a sense of getting his bearings; this was Ellencian land, so he wouldn't recognize the area other than if he happened to pass through it again. Perhaps it was arrogance that they allowed him to see all of this? A feeling that he would never be free, that they were fine with him knowing everything as he wouldn't be putting it to any use? He hated to think it was just oversight, just foolishness, as what was a man who would be defeated by such simpletons?

The glares of the soldiers did little to sway his confidence as he was led through the camp. Some just looked. Others taunted. Others spat at his feet. A few drew daggers or brought hands to their scabbards, but nothing more came of it. Funny, they all wanted a piece of him when he was bound. Not a one would likely stand so tall when he bore his silver armor and plumed helm. Tierian remained silent, simply thinking these thoughts to himself all along the walk. Once they reached the practice field he looked around to the circle of gathered men. Then, to the way a few of them parted, shouted, jeering, making room for a man the prince recognized well to be tugged through.

"Percy!" He shouted out, grinning ear to ear, voice mixing with the din. "Didn't I order you that if you're going to lose to an enemy, at least make it one worth mentioning?" Did his friend hear him? He wasn't sure. They locked eyes a moment later though, that brief acknowledgement enough to say much. Both understood their situation, the comment aimed more for the soldiers than the captive aside. Things weren't good.

Then the whisper came.

Tierian's face grew sullen. It drained a little, the color, but despite the obviousness of his disadvantage, to say the least, he was not about to put on the act of a man beaten. "That would be a shame," he said calmly, not looking to Keara but his words easily meant for her. They weren't loud enough for anyone else. They were barely loud enough for her to hear; she'd have to strain to as it was. "I'd really prefer you don't do that. It would look bad if I let my men die to someone so forgettable." Somehow, somehow that damn smile was still there. "You underestimate him. You underestimate them all. I don't want them to die, but the truth is they'd all rather meet your blades than stay your captives. Plus there's the added mention of the money you'll be throwing away." His eyes stayed on his man, proud that Percival stood tall despite his obvious wounds. The apple cores and clods of dirt flung the warrior's way did nothing to alter the defiant stance. "I have eight honor guards in total, my personal bodyguards. If I'm worth a large fortune, each of them is worth a small one. How many do you have, hm? As for the others, my father would not be hesitant to purchase the freedom of such brave men. Tell me, is your arrogance so much that you'd throw away enough gold to feed your men for a month just to get beneath my skin?"

The smile turned into a smirk. Did she really think he would be broken so easily? His body may be injured and bound but his demeanor, it seemed, was untouchable. Leaning over, Tierian's eyes fluttered closed as he brought his lips to Keara's left ear, exhaling soft, warm breath upon her skin before he spoke. It would innocently be thought that he just wanted to whisper something like she, wouldn't it? That he had something to make sure she heard. But it was more than that. She wanted to get under his skin? He would show the little bint how it was done.

"That's the official, on the surface reason of why you'd be a fool to touch my men any further than you already have. On a more personal level... mm, I'll make you an offer. See to it they're treated well in their time here in captivity, as well as myself, and when I am ready to return home I will find a place for you among my concubines. Your kingdom can only keep this fight up so much longer. Why not see to it that you have a good life when this all is over? If any of them is harmed, however," he continued, pausing there, letting the thought linger before going on. Then, with a warm exhale against her ear, cheek, jaw and neck, "I promise that I will rape you twice - once before I've personally slit your throat, and once after."

Then the icing on the cake; his tongue licked playfully against the inside of her ear.

That was how you got beneath one's skin.

 

[Devxx]

This man was really starting to get on her last damn nerve. No matter how beaten he was that annoying grin never seemed to leave his face. Even seeing his comrade in such a dire position he still felt the need to make jokes and laugh about the whole situation. If she didn’t know better she would have assumed that he must have suffered some terrible blow to the head that would cause him to lose all sense of reason. Yet that would be giving him too much credit and it all stood that he was a moron from the get go. Still, she would let him have his fun for now knowing that eventually even this stubborn prince would have to break.

“Money? Do you really believe this has anything to do with money?” Keara asked listening to him speak. If they actually cared about money they would have taken more of them hostage and sent their demands right away instead of waiting a few days. No, this was about power more then it was about money. “With our new partnership with Lord Cappoli we have gained a new trading route through his territory into the eastern kingdoms. Not to mention that just this morning I received word that our forces have successfully blockaded your route in and out of Arrina. Your kingdom will suffer now that it can’t get through to its’ best trading partner. Face it, right now money is the least of my concerns.” The only thing that was really important was keeping the prince alive; all else was fair game. They could do with their captives as they saw fit as well as do anything to the prince short of actually killing him. If he meant for this to be some kind of bargaining chip then he was sadly mistaken since all it did was further her resolve to hurt each and every one of his men.

The soldiers gathered around began to grow restless with anticipation. They wanted to see the Tamur dogs suffer for all they had done and bloodlust was filling their eyes. The men were shouting taunts and throwing things at the prisoner as they waited for her to give the order. This was going to be a blood bath no matter what and the prince’s words were only dooming his fallen comrade even further. Did he really have such little regard for the other man’s life that he would put him in such harm’s way only to show off his ego. A leader should do everything in their power to protect their followers at all cost and not succumb to the burden of their own arrogance. Every second she was spending with him only made her hatred for him grow.

Keara shot him a glare as she felt his hot breath on her ear and neck. He had even dared to assume that she would betray her men to become another one of his whores. Not only that, but he then threatened to harm her in quite another way. Dear gods in heaven this man must be a complete and utter fool if he could possibly think his words would have the desired effect on her. She had faced down foes twice his size and been threatened with rape time and time again and yet she never even batted an eye. In a world like this such things were a constant threat to her gender but she was no scared little girl who would shy away from confrontation just at the mere mention of the word.

The woman recoiled a bit as she felt something wet on her ear. She had to stop herself from reaching for her dagger and slicing off the offending appendage. Maybe it would be best if she just had his mouth sewed shut since he seemed to really like using it.

If that was his game though, she would be more then happy to join in.

She grinned as her hand snaked around his neck and pulled him closer to her. Her own full lips brushed against his neck as she trailed them up to his jaw line before reaching his ear once again. “Dear prince, if you’re so eager to use your tongue I’ll make sure my men will put it to good use. After all, you know how your gender can be when the more primal urges start acting up and there are no wenches to be had. Don’t worry though, my men will be more then happy to take care of that for you and your friends as they fill you up time and time again and put that body of yours to work.” Keara chuckled as she nibbled on the nape of his neck gently. It didn’t matter to her if her men decided they would like to use the captives for some recreational activity. Besides, at least then there would be something to fill up that mouth of his and keep him from talking.

“I’m sure you know how to work a man with those lips of yours.” The phrase was a parrot of what he had said to her earlier though this time it came off as more of a threat.

She pulled back before looking over at her men and then raising her arm, signaling for them to begin. One of the men held Percival down as the other raised his hand and with one quick motion of his sword cut off his index finger. A howl of pain sounded from the man as the crowd went wild with its cheers. That was all the encouragement the men needed as they cut off one more finger and then the other. Blood flowed freely from the captive as the severed appendages lay on the ground, covered in his own blood. No doubt by now the pain was coursing through him as he witnessed his body being hacked to pieces over short periods of time. Keara still had a hand firmly placed on the back of his neck, making sure he never looked away from the sight before them.

“You know, once they finish with his hands I’m pretty sure they’ll be moving on to a more…sensitive part of his body. I wonder how much it must hurt to have such a thing cut off.” The woman mused as if deep in thought over the question. They always complained so much if they were ever hit there that having it actually cut off must be hell on earth. “Of course, you can end this all now if you surrender to me and promise to be a good little bitch for the remainder of your stay with us. Or do your men really mean so little to you that you would willingly see them suffer just to save face?” Again her lips brushed against his neck as she waited for his answer. No doubt the idea of submitting was repulsive to him but it was either that or watch this whole messy affair happen.

It was up to him how they would proceed from this point.

 

[As Day Fades]

That was low. That brought a wicked little twitch to the prince's features. It was her voice more than anything, her tone. It told him that she probably wasn't bluffing. It told him that she just might submit him and his men to that, that though these be warriors who did not fear death, nor dismemberment... dishonor, and in such an unspeakable way... It was the greatest insult any brave man would ever be put through. And which man in the entirety of this camp wouldn't turn gay for him for just a little while? Maybe, maybe not for his men, but for him, for the famed Silver Devil, who wouldn't? Who the hell here wouldn't? That wasn't arrogance, that wasn't Tierian being smug and thinking he was that damn good looking - no, nothing of the sort. That was him knowing the way people got with mob mentality. That was him being very aware that these men would jump at any opportunity to drag him through the mud, even if it meant them trudging through the mud with him. Not a soldier here would pass up the chance to degrade their finest enemy. It would probably be a source of jovial bonding between the men, even. The thought made him sick.

It was that which got to him far more than anything else, that she went there. That she went there, and that he knew how true of a threat that really was. Additionally, disgusting. Were it only the slow deaths of his men... Tierian could bear that. It wasn't because he was too proud to beg for them to be spared, but that he knew Percival, and he probably knew a few of the others this cunt held as well. They'd never forgive him if he begged for mercy. He didn't bring girls to war, unlike, it seemed, Ellencia did. He brought men, proud warriors who would die with a shit-eating grin in the name of their chosen banner before they begged for an inch from their enemy. Was it pride? Yes, but not a foolish one. It was the sort of pride, the type of mentality that had seen his troops through to so many victories so far in this war. It's what saw Percival through now, for though he screamed at the loss of each digit, the muscled brute's veins bulged as he spat at the man with the blade, shouting the beginning of a story Tierian knew well - once upon a time a man had sex with a goat, and that goat gave birth to a child. This was the family that founded Ellencia, and the reason why they were all so damn ugly.

The prince smirked. Percy had told it by the fire last night, sharping his axeblade in preparation for the coming battle. Now, though, his good friend didn't even get to the punchline before one of the men cracked him in the face with the butt of his weapon. No, Tierian thought. His men were of a special sort. If this twat truly had a handful of them captive, none of them would forgive him for begging for mercy on their behalf.

Still, that didn't make Keara's other threat any less potent.

Turned his goddamn stomach, it did.

"Alright," he said finally, simply, not once pulling his eyes from the struggle in the middle of the circle. He wouldn't beg on behalf of his men, but for himself... He wasn't about to invite that sort of thing. Freedom was preferred, of course, but death came second. Dishonor was third. That... that wasn't even something to be considered.

He would get her back.

"You win. I surrender to you." Calm. Somber. But he'd say nothing of being her bitch, whatever the hell she thought that entailed. "I remain unconvinced you are who you say you are, that a woman could ever stand up to me in the way the Lion does in battle, but that aside, if you will cease any further action against me and my men from yours, you have my word that I will remain well-mannered."

Would that be enough?

"There," he said simply, his face pale, but stoic, eyes on the circle of men.

 

[Devxx]

Huh, so even this arrogant prince had his breaking point. It just so happened that his breaking point involved being broken in half by a bunch of men. She’d have to remember this just in case he decided not to make good on his promise. Funny how he had so easily threatened to rape her only minutes ago yet when faced with the same option himself he had shed away considerably. If the prince really did become the nuisance that she thought he would then she might just have to make good on her threat. Though it might not be one of her men who had the arrogant prick bent over a table screaming. The thought itself brought a small smile to her lips though she decided to keep it to herself for now. No use showing all her cards right at this very moment.

“That will do…for now.” She said as she looked over at him. There was no doubt in her mind that he wasn’t really submitting to her and that he didn’t really believe her to be who she claimed to be. Still, those were details that could be better ironed out in the privacy of her tent in the wee hours of the night. All she needed was for him to admit defeat in this very public place for the intentions to get done. Her own soldiers would hear the prince surrender to her and it would give them a needed boost to their attitude. His own man would hear it and no doubt relay it back to the other captives and hopefully serve to dampen their spirits just a bit.

Keara nodded to the men signaling for them to stop. There was an obvious cry of outrage coming from her own side considering their blood lust wasn’t even near filled. The captive’s sad attempt at a joke had only made them want to hurt him more then ever before. Yet around here her word was law and they didn’t question a direct order. Grudgingly, the men grabbed Percival on both sides and started to drag him off to where the rest of the captives were held. A doctor would take a look at him to make sure he didn’t die and she had no doubt that the guards would rough him up some more on the way there but at least he would escape with this life in tact. Yet for how long that would last still remained to be seen depending on what Tierian decided to do next.

The rest of the men scattered to get on with their own work as she pushed him back to her tent. The day was far from over and she still had plenty planned for the prince. Once they were inside the tent the captain also waited outside as she made herself comfortable. Keara busied herself with a small fire off on the side where she had something in a pot boiling. From their vantage angle they could see it was water but what she planned to do with it was still anyone’s guess. Then she walked over to the other side of the room where she had a thin black box that stood ominously atop a table. Undoing the lock on the box she pulled out what appeared to be a collar like one would find on a family pet.

Collar in hand she turned on him with a grin like the devil would have, as he was about to reap a soul. Unclasping it she had to reach a bit to make up for their height difference but she was finally able to secure it tightly around his neck leaving him no room to move it. It was black and sleek with only the word ‘Bitch’ inscribed in silver lettering. “How do you like your new necklace?” She asked with a grin as she stepped back to admire her handy work. “You may be a prince in your country but here you are nothing more then a worthless dog.” To drive home the point she gave the collar a little tug, making sure it was firmly in place. “Something you should know about it though is that it won’t come off without a key which only I possess.” Where said key was was a different matter entirely as long as he knew that collar wasn’t coming off no matter how hard he pulled.

“Of course, dogs have no use for clothing either.” The grin quickly spread to a smirk as she pulled out her dagger once again and held the tip right up to his throat. She slowly traced it down his flesh before coming in contact with the cloth of his shirt. With a few quick movements the shirt was torn to pieces lying on the ground at his feet. She traced the cold metal down his warm flesh and left a small trail of blood where the dagger pierced the skin. “Oops.” Keara said though her tone sounded anything but apologetic. Finally reaching his trousers she pulled the dagger across the seams that held the leather together until they too were lying on the floor with what was left of his shirt. Now Tierian was as naked as the day he was born like a good dog should be. Keara had every intention of humiliating and degrading him like an animal and it seemed like a good place to start would be to strip him of his outer defenses.

She made no effort to hide her eyes as they traveled across his body and examined what he had to offer. “Funny, with all your boasts I was expecting something more.” Her tone was one of disappointment as she trailed a hand over the now exposed flesh. Truthfully, he was quite handsome and had a body that many women would throw themselves at. Yet she had no desire to add to his overly inflated ego by admitting such a thing.

 

[As Day Fades]

Percy was a good man. That was all Tierian thought as the two saw to one another's eyes as several of Keara's soldiers began leading him away from the crowd. A good man and a ferocious warrior, to say nothing of his worth as a friend. He would've welcomed the slow death, probably, the crazy bastard, both to be free of his bindings and to show these boys how a man takes a beating. The prince smirked, recalling briefly the first memory he had of the man from when he himself was just a boy, seeing the maniac bare-knuckle brawling three of the king's men in studded leather and iron, drunk at midday in some small town tavern, besting them without even drawing his axe. The mad dog had gone back to drinking his ale then, using one of the helmets as a footrest, even having the gall to ask the ten year old prince to then pick up his tab, grinning like a sinner. Oh how things had changed. Oh how they ever stayed the same.

"I'll see you freed yet," Tierian mouthed to himself. Then, with a smirk, "Lest you break out of them first."

His eyes scanned the grass quickly, he himself grabbed by his upper arms now, being turned, being led away, the spectacle finished. Prince Tierian's brown eyes saw briefly as several men rushed what had been the open circle, bending down and snatching their hands at the grass. Likely seeking to take the severed fingers as a token of sorts, or perhaps something to jest about over their ale later. He just smirked. He'd see them all dead soon enough, he told himself behind that crooked smile. Those who didn't end up on the tip of a spear would be hung, and this Keara woman would soon know what it was like to clean the dirt from the boot of royalty with her tongue, dressed in only her shame.

For now, however, he would brave her temporary power over him.

Back in her tent Tierian was anything but the joking, arrogant man he was before. At least, the outward arrogance wasn't showing, not right that moment anyway. Far from humbled, he still held firm to those thoughts, his mind causing his lips to sneer or smirk or roll his eyes when he looked to this thing or that in the woman's tent, standing there simply, wrists still bound from behind. There was a pot over to one corner that he glanced at, but thought nothing of. Outside the tent he could hear nearby others in the camp milling about, faint voices, and some soldiers further still singing, but it was all too far away to really catch. All in all, he couldn't have been more disinterested in what authority this wench thought she had over him. What was she going to do, really? Keep him tied for awhile? Rope was typical in the prince's bedroom play to begin with, though admittedly with the roles reversed. Would she give him a crotch shot or two, thinking that would impress him? Maybe she'd just boast for awhile.

When she turned to him he finally looked back to her, only then coming to realize what it was Keara had procured from the somewhat interesting looking box he'd caught sight of on the table. The prince's brow twisted, his features quirking in mild confusion as she stood on the tips of her toes to secure the thin strip of black leather around his throat. The shoulder-length brunette said nothing, just... standing there. His body had tensed slightly when she reached her hands up to his neck, but as quickly as it had come that feeling faded. He hadn't seen the wording on it, but he could guess this 'gift' wasn't meant as either friendly or flattering.

Then the knife came. He didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. At this point the man made a point not to in his mind. Jaw set firm. His face relaxed, then found itself as firm as his jaw with the next breath, stoic. He'd been cut. He'd been stabbed. She wouldn't injure him. Forget the bounty; word would get out sure enough, and she'd be a fool to incite his people and his father any more than the trollop already had. The tearing of the cool steel blade down the length of his shirt didn't summon a single flinch, nor did it even when she brought the sharpened weapon to his pants. Is that what she had hoped for? A cowering, defeated foe? A man that would sooner snivel than stand in defiance? He said he'd behave, but not that he'd fear her. Even as the surface cut down the length of his chest gave way to a light trickle of red the prince stood with his back straight, relaxing, clenching into fists, then relaxing again. In a very short span of time he found himself standing before this woman in the nude, an athletically fit body doused with dark hairs in all the normal manly places, his legs and thighs strong, his abdomen flat, and though his manhood was not quite as at attention as he, it was not something the prince needed to boast about - it boasted for itself.

And all he said when she was finished, a light smirk cracking his otherwise expressionless face, the black fabric of the collar tight around his throat as he spoke, was, "You owe me a new shirt." Then, a moment later, eyeing hers, eyeing the one she wore and the way it hugged her chest, then looking to his own cut up shirt on the floor, "That had my family's symbol, you twat." A calm voice, despite the words. He was as amused with himself as he was irritated at her blatant disrespect. "Perhaps when you herald a lineage of rat catchers you would not understand, but mine is a bloodline of pride."

Seemed he found that backbone again.

 

[Devxx]

He had seemed to be behaving for the time being though it seemed like she spoke too soon when he once again opened his mouth and decided to prove her wrong. It seemed like every word he said only helped to further her hatred of him and make her wish that she really were allowed to kill him. For a moment she entertained the thought of cutting off his tongue and stitching his mouth shut so she’d never have to listen to that arrogant voice again. Maybe she could even claim that it had happened in the battle or that he had been injured and this was the only way to stop the infection. Sure it would take some crafty lying on her part and foolishness on the part of others but it would still be worth it. Unfortunately, Keara knew that as much as she would love to do such a thing it would just end horribly. Tamur would be in rage over such a punishment being doled out on their prince and lord knows that Tierian would still manage to get on her nerves with or without the use of his mouth. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the thought even if it was but for a fleeting moment.

Brushing her hand through her red-brown hair she let the locks fall gently down her back before letting out an audible sigh. Yes this man before her really was trying her patience and she would have given anything to be able to run him through with her sword over and over again until he lay bleeding on the ground below them. Sadly, this again was not an option. Walking closer to him she tilted her head to the side until a mere few centimeters separated her body from his. Lazily she drew up her right hand and lightly traced her fingers up his abdomen towards her chest. Moving her index and middle finger like the motions of a person walking she walked her fingers over his hard chest and up his neck until she was all but cupping his cheek in her hand. One look down would give her an eyeful of his male anatomy from her viewpoint but right now she wasn’t interested in that. Besides, why give him something that he would happily harp about. Stroking his cheek gently with her fingers she had an almost airy smile on her face as her eyes looked up at him. “You know, every word that comes out of your mouth only makes me want to hurt you. Badly.” With that the airy smile suddenly changed to something a lot more malevolent as the hand that was just moments ago caressing his cheek formed into a fist and hit him square in the jaw. There wasn’t enough force behind the punch to knock him out but there was definitely enough to have him stumbling for a bit.

Watching him for a bit she seemed to contemplate something before turning her back to him and walking over to her little chest once more. “If you are so worried about crests, your highness, I believe I have something of interest to you.” He couldn’t see her face since she had her back towards him but there was a tone in her voice suggesting nothing good was in store for him. Reaching into the chest she pulled out what seemed to bit a thin sheet of parchment though not the kind one would usually find. It was about three times the size of her palm and had a strange gold color not found often in nature. Yet the most peculiar thing was that on that parchment was her own lion crest drawn exquisitely in a very thick sort of ink. One quick look would tell you that there was something different about this paper though what that could be was anyone’s guess.

Walking over to where Tierian was she grabbed his still bound hands and with an impressive amount of strength managed to throw him on the table so he was lying on his chest against the cold wood. His hands were bound and no doubt he was tired not to mention her having the advantage here so she shouldn’t have that much trouble keeping him in that position to do what she needed. Holding the paper in front of him she made sure he got a good view of exactly what was on it before her hand grasped on to the back of his neck to prevent him from going anywhere.

“Since you were so eager to talk about your own symbol I thought it would only be fair to show you mine. A lion on the golden fields showing the courage of Ellencia in the face of their enemies. Even those jackals from Tamur. Something special about this paper you should probably know is that the ink is actually a very potent acid. When it comes in contact with…lets say flesh, it will burn the skin down to the muscle and leave an imprint that will never leave even after the body is nothing more then a dead, hollow shell.” By her tone it was obvious what she intended on doing with said paper and him in a position like this. Yes, she might not be able to kill him but that didn’t mean she couldn’t think of more creative ways to exact her revenge on him.

Letting out a slow chuckle she leaned in so that her lips brushed up against his neck before finally making her way to his ear. “Remember this moment, dear prince.” Keara said as she brushed her full lips against his ear letting her tongue dart out and gently lick the outer shell. “From now on your country, your family and everyone you hold dear will know that even for this brief amount time that you belonged to me.” Letting out another chuckle she lifted the paper up off the table before laying it out and pressing it firmly against his slender back.

From the moment the paper made contact with his skin a sizzling noise could be heard as the acid burned through his flesh leaving the skin red and torn. The foul smell of burning flesh filled the tent and yet she just pressed the paper down harder on his back making sure that each and every line was properly marked on his skin. It would hurt him like hell being eaten alive by acid and the wound would not heal for at least a week and even when it did he would be left with a permanent imprint of her crest on his back for all to see. Yes, no matter what happened in the future and who won or lost, he would always have a constant reminder that he had belonged to the Lion of Ellencia.

 

[As Day Fades]

When she approached him Tierian didn't flinch. Cool. Calm. He was naked, bound, standing in a camp full of men who would likely sell their own mothers down the river just to be the one to eviscerate him personally, yet his stance, his attitude, it was completely relaxed. When Keara approached him, when she stepped to him close, when her hand danced up along his skin the prince simply smiled in response. Of course she was touching him. She was a self-righteous bitch, but she still knew a man when she saw one. His back was firm. His body was straight. She was caressing his cheek now.

'You know, every word that comes out of your mouth only makes me want to hurt you. Badly.'

Tierian grinned. His response? He puckered his lips, giving the air a brief little kiss.

Then came the punch.

The fist came as hard as any man's, elbow grease and all - his lower half remained still, but from the waist up Tierian whipped to the side along with her hand, shoulders and all, long mousy brown hair temporarily shielding his features as his head twisted, dipped, and then whipped up, one foot staggering back briefly toward the end. His hair, long and straight, a mild waviness to it, left his face and went back its normal resting about his neck and atop his shoulders as he straightened back to full, snickering. Amused. Not a bad fuckin' punch, little girl. Not bad.

He watched quietly as she went back over to the table. To be honest he watched quietly because he was watching the sway of her ass with her steps, and it was a nice ass indeed, that approval something he took a breath and parted his lips to voice, but before the prince could he caught sight of her procuring a parchment. He couldn't see anything of it from this angle, but the way she spoke about it did have him a little intrigued. When Keara returned to him Tierian's face remained straight, his jaw set forward, but his eyes slyly followed her hands. To no avail, though. That curiosity was briefly jarred when, behind him, he felt the sudden push as Keara shoved him forward. Unapologetically the proud warrior's body was jerked forward - naked, yet somehow still proud, if not prouder in his nudity - and was forced to bend over the table in front of him. He bent at the waist. His body lurched, his knees strained a bit from the force, his head tilted to the side and his eyes flashed closed, a heavy grunt passing from his lips when his cheek collided against the wooden top. The man's first instinct was to shove himself backward, because what the fuck, and as he readied himself, though he felt her brace her stance behind him that wasn't what stopped his resistance. Rather, it was the parchment now reached around and dangled in front of his face that stole his attention back.

The prince's eyes rolled as the brownish-redhead spouted off about her crest as if its nobility were anything but imagined. They widened, however, when that next part came - and with it his face grew terribly pale. It drained of its color in an instant. Wait. She wouldn't. She wouldn't. Fucking. Dare. His teeth clenched. His heart raced. It was then his body thrust backward, because fuck this, he put his weight into it and dug his heels against the ground. Tierian threw himself backward against her, into her, but found his effort to no avail - the hand gripping the back of his neck was firm, and as she braced herself against him she actually surprised him, a lot, with her strength. Strength enough to wear heavy plate and manage a sword? Like hell he was buying that yet, but for a woman this was not typical. His bent over position didn't help things either. He struggled. His shoulders jerked. Tierian's body shoved itself back a few times against her grip, gritting his teeth, struggling against her hand, his own, balled into fists, straining against the hemp around his wrists so damn much he risked running the skin there raw.

It was her lips that paused him mid-struggle. When Keara bent over, when the captive prince felt the dip of her bosom tickle at the bare skin of his back, when he felt her lips to his skin, her hot breath, her sudden, sultry words, he froze. With that was not just a freeze of his straining against her, against his bonds, but a halt in any active thought whatsoever. He listened. Tierian didn't even breathe for those couple of seconds, he just remained there, bent atop the sturdy wood, and listened.

Branded with the symbol of the enemy, his body was about to be disgraced in the worst of ways. It wasn't even Ellencia's symbol specifically, but that of Keara's family line, her own personal crest that he would forever be shamed with the stain of. It was imminent. It was very real, and it was about to happen. But he found that his body stopped resisting, his mind drawing a complete blank. It sickened him. It turned his stomach, but as she continued that hotly-breathed whisper...

'...that you belonged to me.'

...there was something about it. The feel of her breasts against his back. The feel of him bent over, naked while she was still clothed, and having failed so far in that brief physical struggle, leverage against him aside. The feel of her breath. The delight of ownership in her words. The permanency of the impending threat. This was the kind of thing he did to others, that he'd do to her - not the other way around! Yet still. Still, Tierian found his heart racing against his chest. He found his face and skin completely pale, his body going cold, yet somehow his blood was boiling at the same time. And when she licked him, when she licked him, when Keara's tongue playfully traced the inner curve of his ear he couldn't form a coherent fucking thought, his body shuddering beneath her grasp as his only response. Well, that, and his dick suddenly getting very, very hard.

Thank the gods she was not in any position to see that for herself.

Then it happened. Tierian's eyes could not widen any further than they already were, but if they could, they did. The shock of the sudden, instant and horrendous burn the moment the parchment touched upon him came out first as a sharp gasp, followed by a sputter for breath. "Ghh... nnnghhnn!! Grahh!!!" A throaty snarl filled the tent. He shoved himself backward, hard, only to find the added hand on his back now making it less possible to move against her. The smell of burning flesh was instant and sickening. The pain shot through him like a surge. He was being burned. He was being burned. Tierian's teeth grit down painfully hard and his shoulders jerked from side to side. He couldn't get free. He couldn't fight her from this position, not with his neck and lower back being pressed down on. "You cunt! You fucking - you cunt! Get off of me!!" He shouted, the acid burning beyond the skin, scarring the once-perfection of his sculpted form and continuing on to sear at his nerves.

What happened then was a de-evolution of his struggling back against her. The throes of his body slowed over the course of the eleven or twelve seconds she'd been holding the acidic paper against his skin, then after a few more they stopped completely. It was more piercing than any blade, this pain, first burning where it touched, then completely numbing, followed by that feeling resurging in the form of a dull, throbbing ache. His body gave up completely. He stopped fighting. He didn't whimper. He didn't cry. But as she held the burning parchment against him still, the moment-ago prideful Prince Tierian Alyren of Tamur felt his eyes go from a clench shut to just a simple closed, and his body already felt several degrees colder, a slight shiver coursing through him.

 

[Devxx]

Keara didn’t say anything as Tierian struggled beneath her. He was cursing and thrashing about but her only focus was to make sure that the paper didn’t slip and that the ink had enough time to seep into his skin. After what felt like an eternity the sizzling sound seemed to fade away and the ink had all but disappeared from the paper. Pressing it into his skin once more just for good measure she gingerly peeled it away before placing it lightly on top of the table next to him.

The sight in front of her could have easily turned someone with a weak stomach but she had seen many things in battle so it didn’t hinder her one bit. What had once been smooth flesh was now red and bloody. Her crest could easily be seen in the outline of the burns as the skin around it peeled away and boiled. No doubt this would take a while to heal and would be very uncomfortable for him as she new skin grew back to replace the old one that had been singed off. The smell of burning flesh was still present in the tent as she gently ran her hand over his back, tracing the outline of his crest. He wouldn’t be sleeping on his back any time soon and probably even the lightest of cotton would send jolts of pain through him. Already she could see the effects it had on him as his struggles had all but died out and he lay on the table with his eyes closed shut. His skin that had seemed vibrant before now held an almost deathly pallor as his body tried to recover from the blood loss. It seemed like the arrogant prince had actually shut his mouth for once.

Keara let go of his neck and stepped away to examine the work. She wasn’t worried about him fighting back now since it seemed like most of the energy had been zapped away from him. Yes, his back had taken the crest beautifully but she would need to clean up a bit to make sure that the rest of the flesh didn’t mar the symbol. Walking over to the boiling pot of water she picked up a rag from the side and dipped it into the scalding liquid. Gently she squeezed out the excess, making sure not the burn her hands in the process, before walking back over to where he was. No doubt the hot water would feel like hell on his raw flesh but it would help kill whatever bacteria was left and make sure the burns healed faster without getting infected.

Placing one arm on his shoulder to make sure he stayed down she brought the rag to his back before she started cleaning off the dead skin and remaining acid. Her movements were gentler then before as she worked diligently to make sure that the crest remained in tact. Taking a deep breath she blew gently on where she had just run the rag cooling the skin down a bit. “What’s wrong your highness? Cat got your tongue?” There was a smirk on her face as she continued to run the hot rag over him as she peered at his face. Admittedly, she was probably being more cruel then necessary but she didn’t have a problem with it. This man was the enemy of her kingdom and had killed who knows how many of her own men in battle. Not only had he also refused to show her the proper respect in her own camp but also he himself had threatened to rape her. No, she owed him no kindness and would take the utmost pleasure in his pain and humiliation.

No matter what he would learn his place.

Finally happy with her work she tossed the rag back over to the pot before reaching down and helping him stand up straight so she could see what it looked like when he was upright. The crest burned eerily on his broken flesh and brought a smile to her face when she saw it. His wrists were chaffed red from his struggles earlier and there was also another change that she happened to noticed when he stood up. Apparently something in this process had managed to arouse him considering she could now see his hard dick.

Keara let out a twisted laugh as she walked behind him so only a few inches separated her from his back while right hand hung lazily on his hip. “Dear gods, you really are a sick bastard aren’t you?” Her tone was malevolent at best as her hand started rubbing small circles on his hip. “Tell me your highness, do you actually get off on getting hurt? Did you get on my nerves all those times just so I’d hit you and you’d get some perverse pleasure from it?” There had been nothing pleasant about this experience on his end so she did have to wonder just what was it that made him hard.

 

[As Day Fades]

He just lay there. During all this, this aftermath, this woman cruel, this woman foolishly disregarding what was going to happen to her for injuring Tamur's prince... he just laid there. There was nothing else Prince Tierian could do. Naked, exposed in her tent, his wrists bound, there was nothing anymore he could do to resist the merciless bitch. That acidic paper had done more than simply leave a scalding brand, its pain that was sent coursing through his body from the severe burn had seemed to rob him of a great deal of strength, if not resolve. His skin seemed to pale a bit. His laced tongue had fallen silent, only the slightest of whimpers emitting when she pressed that wet rag the burns on his back. Tierian's brown eyes were painfully shut as he simply lay there breathing, laid there bent over, his body a mixture of fire and ice, and the shame, the shame bore down on him worse than any physical pain. His family, his servants... they could never see this. He would have to somehow mar the skin further. No one could see this. None could ever know of it.

But right now it was hard to think of that, much as ridding himself of this insult was indeed prevalent on his mind. Right now there was just the dull, searing pain of the burn, one not likely to go away for many days. The droplets of hot water that fell from the rag caused his bare back to arch sharply and twist against the table, but only in reaction; he did not fight her, not anymore. His will, it seemed, was broken, as was his strength. He'd been reduced to this nude, bound, pathetic sight, and could only lay there, forehead sweating, hair clinging to his skin, eyes closed and lower lip bearing a very, very slight quiver. Perhaps he could throw himself backward, Tierian thought. Perhaps he could send her crashing to the ground, maybe even get a kick or two in to her skull. Maybe. But he knew that any twists or other jarring motions would have him writhing in even worse pain. He knew that right now there was nothing he could do but try to relax beneath the scalding, but gentle touch of the rag as she cleaned his wound with, honestly, a much more gentle care than he would have expected.

When Keara helped him to a stand, Tierian instead stumbled. It was slightly, he falling to a bare knee against the grass as she held him, his usually ruggedly handsome face twisting in a contortion of biting pain, but it was a definite one. He stumbled from the pressure put on his mid-to-lower back from standing before, with her continued holding him, he pushed back to a stand, half on his own and half of her pulling him up. His chest rose. His chest fell. He didn't have the strength in him to fight anymore, just breathing, wincing and breathing. Tierian's lightly bearded chin rose upward, hair clinging to the sweat on his neck, eyes lilting closed as he just breathed. He stood up straight. His wrists were throbbing, not as bad as his back but they were red and raw from the rough hemp rope. He'd never been so humiliated as this, he thought. Whatever grand plan this foolhardy wench had in mind, she'd accomplished at least that much.

But then he froze.

He heard her voice. That laugh. He could feel her eyes, and he froze.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck! He knew before she said a damn thing, what she saw, what she must have assumed. The arousal had faded some in the past minute or two since it reared its unwelcome head, having been unexpectedly summoned forth by the soft whisper of a feminine voice, by the touch of her lips so close to his ear. It had been an unconscious reaction on his part, his body's brief arousal, and as she'd been patting him with the cloth so too did it fade with the pain - but not fully, apparently. Not completely. Not yet.

Tierian's eyes shot wide. As she openly chastised him he said nothing. His back, his whole body stiffened - ironically, including his member, its fading glory now once again aroused by knowing she was looking at it, by the excitement of being naked in her tent, humiliation and pain aside. This wasn't his thing. Fuck no, it wasn't. But that touch on his right hip, the slow, smooth circle she rubbed against his bare skin... His body didn't know how to interpret it, how to interpret anything, the humiliation and pain mixing with the gentle touches and the warm-breathed whispers. It didn't know how to respond other than to betray him, and all the fallen prince could do was stand straight, stiff as a board, jaw set firm, his face half in shock and half in a sneer, and... do nothing. Caught red-handed, anything he might do or say would only make things worse. Hopefully she'd just carry on with whatever she'd been planning to do next. ...What an awkward thing to hope for.

"Fuck you, trash," was all he managed between grit teeth, his voice defensive, and barely above a whisper.

 

[Devxx]

It was delightful to see the change that had taken place. The brand on his back had obviously taken a toll on him physically considering she could see the sheen of sweat on his brow. The heavy breathing and the stumbling gave insight on to the pain that was coursing through his body as he struggled to his feet. Yet it wasn’t just the physical pain that caught her eye, the emotional one was plain to see as well. When he first came here he had been a mouthy bastard yet the man before her seemed almost a shadow of what he had been before. Sure he still had defiance in his stance but it wasn’t as strong as it had been before. No, the prince had been branded like a cow and for the rest of his life anyone who saw him would know exactly what happened to him. That he had been little more then cattle to her and it was a mark that would never fade away. She smirked as she thought just how he would explain that to his family. There was no way he could hide it for the rest of his life and even if he was in bed with one of his whores when they ran their hands down his back he would always be reminded of what had happened here.

After her little comment she could see something in him spring back to life. His arousal was now even more evident then before as if he was actually enjoying this sort of attention. Sure he could say whatever he wanted but his body couldn’t lie. The prince could protest until he was blue in the face but all she had to do was look down and see the truth staring right at her. Her hand continued to rub against his skin as she lazily moved her hand over his arm. Keara’s mind was reeling as she saw the images unfold in front of her as a new plan began to form in her mind. Why should she settle on merely harming him physically when she could do quite a number on him mentally? Physical scars would eventually heal but what she could do to his mind would haunt him for the rest of his life. No, she’d make it so the arrogant prince before her left this place on his knees.

“Hm? I thought we already covered that. If you really want to fuck someone I could happily offer you up to the troops.” If he meant to get under her skin that was a sad attempt at it. Sure at the beginning it might have gotten a reaction out of her but she had seen him break down partly from the brand and now she just wanted to tear him down even more.

“Maybe if you’re a good little prince I’ll spare your life when we burn your kingdom to the ground. Hell, the castle could always use some new eunuchs and I’m sure you’d fit in with no problem.” Her tone was lazy though it still carried a threat to it. No, she couldn’t do that right now since a prince who couldn’t have an heir was worth less then a dead prince in the eyes of the people. Still, she’d let that little threat hang in the air for just a moment as she moved her body closer to him so her body brushed up against his back. The movement was slight but the feel of her tunic against the raw skin should have sent more pain going through him.

Still smirking, the hand that was on his hip moved lower so that her warm fingers were now inches away from the base of his member. The sight of him naked, bound, branded and with the collar around his neck brought a feeling of power over her. It was a feeling she had only ever felt on the battlefield as her sword came in contact with the enemies moments before she brought it down on their heads. This was a sense of power that was exhilarating to her and the longer she spent with him the more she craved it. The idea of having this bastard on his knees before her like some dog brought a small tingle down her spine as she took a deep breath.

Leaning up she wrapped her other hand around him so that she was now pressed up behind him as her chest was pressed against his back. It would sting and hurt like hell and that was exactly what she was looking for. Slowly her lips brushed up against the back of his neck as she stood on her toes so her lips pressed against the side of his neck for just a moment. “Face it your highness, you’re branded for life as my little bitch. Every time one of your whores runs her hand down your back you’ll have to think of me.” One hand was now flat on his stomach while her hand hung lazily just inches away from his aroused member.

“Get on your knees and beg like the dog you are and maybe I’ll take pity on you and leave you alone for a couple of hours.” No doubt he would need to time to recover and if he were smart he would do it. Though if that would win out over his attitude was still up in the air.

 

[As Day Fades]

Nothing he could do. Less than nothing, he was completely at her mercy; breathing because she allowed him, standing because she willed it. Tierian had never been taken captive before. He'd taken others captive. He'd heard tales of others being taken captive. He'd never been in a predicament such as this before, but he knew that this sort of... personal treatment she was giving him was far from typical. There was a vendetta here, deep and seething. The more he fought back, the more she was in a position to meet and then double his efforts. He knew this. He knew it, but still... fuck this twat. He couldn't give in. He couldn't.

The press of her torso against his back urged Tierian's form into a wicked goddamn arch, a sharp exhale rushing forth from between clenched teeth. There was a mixture of pain and a perverted thrill he felt; he was not the type to get off from pain, not like Keara was assuming, but despite the feel of her cottony shirt against his burning, sensitive back, he couldn't get away from the femininity of the feel, how her chest was not flat like a man's, but that he felt the touch to his skin in the form of a pair of softly rounded peaks. The prince's fingers balled into themselves at the base of his back, his cock sticking forward prominently even as his lips seethed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No! Of all the times to be wrongfully aroused! Those fists squeezed but got nowhere.

And when Keara's other hand slipped around to his front, to stroke her fingers through the dark curls on his tone stomach and strong chest, it might as well have been the kiss of death, denial-wise. The vicious ache she elicited and arch of his body when she pressed her curved breasts, her smooth stomach fully against his bare back, when she stroked her palm along his abdomen, when she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed at the side of Tierian's neck, and when that first hand came tauntingly close to the base of his very erect shaft... It was such a mixed signal that he couldn't think. Too surreal. Too confusing. His hard-on was too distracting. A meaty length standing prominently outward from a bush of dark curls, it was as impressively long as it was thick. Too much more of her touching him like this, he thought somewhere, somewhere in the back of his mind where thought was still possible, and he'd hate to think what she would do if she managed even a single drop of precum from this abuse.

It was fucking betraying him. All the tail he'd given it over the years, and it was getting aroused now? From this cunt?

His breaths seethed. His eyes were permanently winced shut, the feel of Keara's torso pressing against his back enough to make him shudder within the pair of arms slipped around him. What an awkward combination this was, to be in intense pain, to feel aroused, and to feel as if you were soon to throw up all in one jumble together. All he could do was breathe, just breathe between clenched teeth in short, steady gasps, and arch his back away fr her as much as possible.

Somewhere along the line he'd caught her saying something, something about something, this or that, when he wasn't busy thinking about his predicament or wholly preoccupied with the pain. Something about attacking his kingdom... something about... She'd never manage that feat, burning a damn thing within Tamur's borders save maybe her men's own morale. Somehow, he managed a little smirk despite the biting pain and the rampant humiliation of his arousal. He was ever-resilient, this prince. And there was a reason the treachery back on the field was the first battle in a long time Ellencia had claimed. Then the comment about being her little bitch, about his whores touching his back and how it would always remind him of her... That was enough to, again, find a somehow resurgence, though Tierian's voice at this point was in a painful stammer.

"One of my w-whores, huh... Like... nnhg... like the way... you're touching me now?" An upper lip sneer curved itself, the same time as he was still breathing through grit teeth. This son of a bitch was a fighter, that much was for sure. "One of my whores... decent enough, ghh-... enough to give me a reach around, while she's back there..."

He even chuckled a bit, all while his eyes still remained in a painful wince. "H-how about it, h-honey?"

 

[Devxx]

Listening to him talk her jaw was set in anger as she resisted the urge to snap his neck right then and there. It seemed like no matter what she did he was still the same stubborn and annoying ass as he was before. That little comment made her move her hand to his back and press her thumb into the burned skin with enough pressure to send the raw nerves screaming. He was probably used to having his every whim met and having all sorts of women throw themselves at his feet. No doubt the women of Tamur would happily fuck anything in sight so this cocky prince was probably a step up from the slobs that were the common folk. “I do realize that most of your subjects have little to no standards and would be more then happy to screw anything with a pulse but you must understand that we in Ellencia tend to have some more discerning tastes.” Keara shot back as she applied a bit more pressure to her hand on his back.

She could make fun of his appearance all she wanted but for some reasons he doubted he would take it very seriously. No, he was a man who understood perfectly well where he stood in the world of his looks. She would sooner be burned at the stake then admit it but there was something pleasing about him. The hard muscle felt so good under her hands telling of the power he possessed if he was at full strength and wasn’t bound. Brown hair and eyes complimented him and there was just something about the defiance in those eyes that she couldn’t stay away from. The desire to overpower him and prove to him that she was the better of the two. It went beyond a simple rivalry between two enemies and seemed as if it was some great cosmic war played out between the two of them. A hurricane meeting a typhoon in one great clash for dominance and supremacy.

He could smirk all he wanted but she could see beyond that point. He was straining so hard against the binds and the erection only served to humiliate him even further. The prince was fighting against it as if by sheer will he could make the hard member deflate yet try as he might it still stood there proudly at attention in it’s full length. No, it was probably hurting him more then even the pain that he had been brought to such a state by someone who he considered to be his lesser. After all she had done to him the fact that she still managed to inspire this kind of reaction to him only made her chuckle softly.

Keara loosened up the pressure on her hand before bringing it up his spine and running it through his hair. He was still covered in sweat and it only served to show his body off in a better light. Gently her hands ran through the wet locks almost in a teasing motion as her hand moved just a bit closer to his shaft. “Tell me your highness, what would your father think of this?” Keara asked as she moved her lips closer to his ear before giving it a small lick. “What would he think of his son being bound up and branded like some common animal only to be brought to such a state by the champion of his greatest enemy?” She tilted her head slightly to the side letting her warm breath tickle his ear while pushing closer to his body. His fists were balled up behind his back and she could feel them press into her stomach as she moved closer to him.

“I’m sure if your brother was here he would be able to handle himself with much more control. After all, he’s the heir to the kingdom and will be the future king while you will always be nothing more then the superfluous second son.” To her it always seemed like a low point with royalty when it came to heirs. The first son would always shine in the light while the others were forced to huddle in his shadow. No matter how could he was, Tierian would never become the king. The best he could hope for would be that his brother allowed him to live in the castle before marrying him off to some minor princess for the political advantage.

Still smirking she moved her hand lower still until she was just at the base of his cock, her pale fingers in direct contrast to the dark curls they were currently buried in. “The prince of Tamur brought to such a humiliating state by the Lion of Ellencia. Now that has to be humiliating. Don’t worry though, this will be the least of your problems when I’m done with you.” Keara let out another low chuckle before kissing just under his ear. Her fingers danced along the very outskirts of his shaft as she slowly started drawing circles with her index finger on the hardened flesh.