An Unexpected Gift ~ {Google x LunaTick}

[LunaTick]

Cliona Ferrie struggled under the grip the man had on her arm. Surely he was squeezing hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises on her. She tried to wiggle away from his hands, but only to feel his grip grow even tighter. This, of all times, is the time when she would regret not improving her upper body strength. She looked up at the man, the King. The man who had stolen her away from the only home she'd ever known. The only family she truly had. The only man she had ever cared for. The man who had destroyed everything that she had ever truly lived for.

She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. But no, she would not cry. She had to be strong. Had to figure out some way to escape this. Some way to avoid whatever was going to happen (not that she was quite sure what that was yet). Cliona scrolled through questions in her mind, debating whether or not she dared to ask any of them. She continued to stare at the King, and then finally decided that she would. "Where are you taking me?"

The King looked down at her with a poisonous look on his face. "To my son," he said quickly before looking away. Cliona was nothing but confused at this response. So many more questions began to wheel through her mind. She glanced down at her once violet colored dress. The dress now ripped and torn in various places. Blood, (some belonging to her, some belonging to others) stained the chest of it. She found various mud-caked areas along the hems. Such a beautiful dress it had been, what a shame. Father had paid good coin for such a masterpiece.

Cliona looked back up at the King, daring to ask another question. "Why would you take me to him?" The King chuckled slightly. No, he didn't chuckle. He snickered. Quite evilly, at that.

"You, my dear, shall be a gift."

 

[DomG]

Jensen was quite bored as he lounged in his quarters, a modest home, or at least modest by the standards of royalty separate from the main palace. The home had its own servants, a large pool for swimming out back and even its own stable attached to it. Jensen just saw it as a lovely prison though, an incredibly boring place where he spent most of his days, unable to leave the grounds of the palace proper because of dangers that might exist for the twenty three year old heir to the kingdom.

It had been his birthday the day before, all of his so called friends had visited him and brought gifts, things that he already owned or would never have any use for in the least. Even the people that were there had only been invited because their families had a great deal of money and influence, though there weren't his equals they were considered close enough to be allowed to attend his celebration.

Sighing a little bit the young man brushed his long black hair away from his cold blue eyes and examined himself in the mirror, like always enjoying the sight that greeted him, his body was tall and kept slim, always ready to defend himself if he was under threat, strong and powerful like his father was, the same father who hadn't even brought him a single gift or acknowledged his birthday. Not that anything he would have gotten would have alleviated his boredom.

Hearing a knock on his door Jensen stood and moved to open it, wondering who had dared to interrupt his thoughts, it wasn't something that he enjoyed. On his way he covered up with a robe before yanking the door wide open, greeted by the sight of a bound young woman before his door with a note sitting there, a quick glance explaining that this young woman, a princess, was his birthday gift from his daddy... his to use anyway he desired. “My own princess.” He said with a small chuckle as he lifted her and carried her into his private quarters. “I didn't think that dear old dad would put any effort into this gift.”

 

[LunaTick]

Cliona struggled in the Prince's arms as he carried her inside. She attempted to wiggle herself free of her binds, but this was clearly a completely useless feat. The binds were too tight, and she was too frail and weak to even have a solid chance at such. She looked up into the Prince's eyes, a bright blue. She had to admit, they were indeed quite beautiful. Not unlike her own emerald, gold-specked eyes. But she looked up at him and she saw past his beauty to what he truly was. The son of a monster. A monster that had destroyed her home and her family. All she could do was allow a couple of tears to slowly roll down her face. How did this come to be?

How did it come to the point where she was no longer a Princess? No longer royalty? Her country, well, there was no royalty left. She was the only member of the royal family that had not been slaughtered in this particular attack. She was no longer Princess. No, she was an item. A commodity. A ... present. But she would not be taken easily. No, not at all. Despite her frail, weak physique, she was never one to back down from a battle. Especially one that involved battling for those she loved. She refused to be taken willingly. She struggled then, and she shall struggle now. She continued to attempt to wriggle free of the binds, again to no avail. They didn't even slightly loosen.

She felt him lower her to a lovely couch. Not unlike one that she herself used to have in her own quarters. On the inside, she smirked. This couch would be dirtied with the dirt and blood that stained her dress. She didn't believe his Father would be too pleased upon realizing that he would have to pay a good amount of coin to replace it. She turned away from the Prince, rolling on her side in her bindings. She refused to look at him, even to speak with him. Should he get close to her again, she swore she would spit at him. He had no place near her.

He had no place to even be in her presence.