Disclaimer: This fanwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by Minekura Kazuya. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. No profit made.
It was late on a moonless night when Eleyn made the decision to run. She hadn't been actively thinking about it, though the idea had slipped into the back of her mind some months before. Still, it had been there and now here she was, slipping silently through the house, picking up a share of the already meagre supplies her family shared. She tied a chunk of bread and some cheese into a square of cloth, then stole out of the house as quickly and quietly as she could. She would have liked to take some milk with her, but the single cow would be dry in the morning if she did. Her brothers would have a long day of hard work ahead of them; they would need it far more than she would.
Eleyn turned back once, but the starlight wasn't enough to see her home for more than a darker shape in the darkness, seeming to huddle protectively against even her now. It would be a long time before she would see it, or her family, again. The thought sank into her belly like a sharp, cold stone as she turned and stepped deliberately away.
It wasn't as if they hadn't tried, but the proper channels had been denied and she couldn't remain here forever, a burden on her family until she died. Her father had already been talking with others on the manor, searching for a suitable match. It was only luck that had kept her from being married off to one of them thus far. Eleyn knew those men and she had no desire to wed back into the same life in which she had grown without at least the comfort of a husband who didn't disgust her. Too clever by half, her mother had often said when Eleyn's mouth had driven off another who came seeking her hand. Of a naturally sweet disposition and uncommon beauty, God had done Eleyn no favours in not making her a dullard; even she cursed Him for it as she watched her hopes dwindle to nothing before her eyes.
She had tried to follow her father's direction, to sit quietly and to reconcile herself to the inevitability that one of the men from the manor would eventually be her husband. Eleyn had looked at some, tried to see what influence she might have, how she might improve things to suit her, that she might live in relative comfort, if not happiness. They had looked back at her, those men, with the dull calculation of livestock in rut, and bile rose sour in her throat. Eleyn had cultivated a face for others, but the thought of living forever behind that subservient mask clawed at the edges of her mind.
Coming to the edge of the land her family worked, Eleyn stopped to take stock of the surroundings. She knew this land well, but it looked alien in the darkness, the line of the trees a forbidding wall designed to keep her in. Ruthlessly crushing the sudden urge to turn and run back home, Eleyn picked her way through the mane of long grass that bordered the forest before disappearing into the darkness beyond.
Eleyn supposed that she should be thankful that the manor guard were better behaved than in other places; rough though they were, the men who captured her had left her unmolested through the night she had spent in their care. In the morning she had been lifted to sit behind one of them on his horse, her hands bound in front of him, her arms around his waist. Eleyn, for all she chafed at it, knew her station in the world - her treatment at the hands of these two men was far, far better than she had any right to expect.
All through the morning ride back to the manor house, Eleyn remained silent, answering the few questions put to her quickly and carefully and keeping her thoughts to herself. She had prepared as much as possible for her journey, but certain things were beyond her control. That she could neither read nor write had proven to be a much larger problem than she had expected. Had she been able to find a way to sneak a look at a map, Eleyn was sure that she would have been much further removed from the manor by the time they had found her. She could have managed it, she knew, but she was unwilling to trade her virtue for the chance - a decision she would revisit, should she ever have another opportunity to escape. Of course, that was subject to her ability to understand the damned thing; without letters that was far from certain.
The necessity of moving at night had been obvious, but Eleyn had underestimated the ease with which the forest could confuse, in darkness. If the manor didn't stretch so very far, she could have moved along the river. Dalhamm, however, was an old and vast estate; the serfs and slaves that worked its lands were relatively prosperous and loyal almost to a fault. The fact that the Lady of the manor was known to be by turns ruthless and capricious to those she had cause to meet was, after all, of no concern to those who stayed clear of her wrath. No, traveling the fertile banks of the river was a dangerous route, even in daylight and on horseback, moving inexorably toward punishment.
Unused to sitting a horse at all - let alone for several consecutive hours - eventually Eleyn grew stiff and tired. The guard (this one was Godun, she seemed to remember) paid her no heed when she let her back bend a little to rest her cheek on the back of his shoulder, for which she was grateful. The ease and leisurely pace they set assured Eleyn that she had not, in fact, got very far from home at all. If they could afford to allow their horses to saunter back at such a speed, they must not have very far to go to return to the manor house. Tears stung her eyes, and she slid them shut with a sigh.
The sun climbed ever higher, the heat of the summer day slowly burning away the cooler air where it collected in hollows and the long shadows of morning. Godun nudged Eleyn with his shoulder as they halted their horses beside the river. Eleyn lifted her head, taking in the landscape around her. A sharp fear knifed through her as she realised that she knew exactly where they were.
"All right, girl," Godun rumbled, his voice not unkind for all its gruff efficiency, "time to eat." With that, he pulled his dagger from his belt and cut the rope that bound Eleyn's wrists. She nodded silently, sighing with relief as the rope fell away. The other guard (Berg was it?) came to help her down from the horse, and she couldn't help but marvel at such treatment for a mere slave. It was said that Lady Lucia of Dalhamm was oddly specific about the conduct of those attached to her manor and that she was universally uncompromising in dealing with disobedience. Though most who worked the manor managed to escape her notice entirely, there were those who had faced the Lady's displeasure and paid dearly for it - if they returned at all.
The truth was that it shouldn't have had to be this way. Eleyn had done everything right, but the Lady had seen fit to deny her family's petition to allow her to marry off the manor, for reasons that she chose never to state.
Eleyn picked at the rough meal the men shared with her, quietly lost in her own thoughts. Running didn't even cross her mind; they would only be obliged to give chase, and Eleyn was under no illusions regarding her chances in that case. She watched with a dispassionate expression as they prepared to set off again, though her stomach was twisted with apprehension. Berg set his hands on Eleyn's waist to help her onto Godun's horse once more and she had to bite back the almost overwhelming urge to strike him and bolt, such was her rising fear of the Lady's retribution.
A few more hours saw them entering the manor grounds proper, by which time Eleyn was torn between trembling and a consuming anger at the woman who had forced her to this course. She slid from the horse with her hands on Berg's shoulders, held herself still while they bound her wrists before her once more. Suddenly the hands of the guards on her arms chafed in a way it hadn't before, and it was all she could do to force down the desire to fight, to fly as they led her across the wide courtyard. Wanting to scream at them that they needn't hold her - that she would walk to her fate on her own - Eleyn bit her tongue against the words instead. As it were, she was incapable of keeping herself from trying to wrest from their grasp, which only led to a tightening of their fingers upon her. The tiny corner of Eleyn's mind that managed to retain its composure warned her of the consequences of allowing her instincts to rule her, but the fear of what was to come deafened her to it.
Their steps grew out of sync, the guards' hands pulling at her arms until her wrists burned from the rope that bound them. Jerking back from Godun's grip particularly hard, Eleyn stumbled and nearly fell, but the strong hands that held her simply dragged her back up to her feet, wrenching her wrists viciously. A loose strand of hair fell across her face as she found her feet again and she shook her head to try to settle it into better position, rather than risk another tug from the men against her abused skin. To no avail, it turned out, as Godun shook her roughly.
"Quit your struggling, girl," he hissed as Berg shouted out to a servant to fetch Lady Lucia, "and keep your mouth shut in front of the Lady, you hear?"
Eleyn favoured him with a glare far more venomous than he deserved, jerking back from his grip half-heartedly. She knew she ought to be more kind, as they had been with her, but the cold coil of terror had settled into her gut now. She simply couldn't find it in herself to be charitable to the men who had dragged her back to the manor house and the fierce punishment she knew she now faced.
Godun and Berg traded wary looks across Eleyn's back and Godun snorted quietly. "She'll be in a foul mood this time. Fifth one this year we've had to catch, and she was none too gentle on the last one." Berg pursed his lips, simply nodding in response.
"I wonder why," Eleyn muttered and then winced as Godun shook her again.
"Shut your mouth," he hissed, "or you'll make-" He cut himself off abruptly, straightening and pulling Eleyn up with him as Lady Lucia emerged from the manor house. Eleyn hissed as the rope dug into her wrists once more, the guards' fingers digging deeply into the soft flesh of her upper arms. With no real choice, she drew herself upright, fighting against the terror in her belly as she watched Lady Lucia come closer. Staring boldly at her, Eleyn carefully shoved the fear down, schooling her anger to the fore.
Lady Lucia frowned as she stalked toward Eleyn and her captors, her gaze sweeping quickly over them as she came to a halt. "Well," she snapped, "what's this, then?"
Godun managed somehow to snap even further to attention. "One of your slaves, my lady," he said quickly, "We found her on the borders of your land, likely trying to escape."
The Lady raised an eyebrow at Eleyn, taking another long look at her. "Is that so," she mused thoughtfully.
"She was carrying a pack with food and clothes in it, my lady," Godun went on, "...including meat." Eleyn clenched her jaw against the tightening in her stomach at his words.
Turning to look at Godun for barely a second, the Lady silenced him with a quick gesture. "So," she murmured, almost to herself, "a runaway and a thief." There was an odd kind of calculation in her eyes that struck Eleyn to the core; her instincts screamed at her to run from it, but all she could manage was another futile tug against her captors, quickly abandoned. Not quickly enough, it seemed. The Lady tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly at Eleyn's tiny display. "Oh, look," she purred, "it has a spine." The backhand strike that followed was so casually and fluidly done that Eleyn had no warning, no ability to turn or lessen the blow in any way. Her head snapped to the side under the incongruous force of it. "How interesting," the Lady mused, that calculation creeping into her voice now, along with an edge that Eleyn didn't need to see to understand. Lady Lucia was smiling.
Eleyn's stomach clamped tight, the fear clawing at her again, gaining purchase over her fury. Still, she clung to what she could of it as she straightened, turning back to the Lady with a burning glare. Lady Lucia returned her gaze evenly, one hand under her chin as she considered Eleyn with a soft chuckle.
"Quite a spine, it seems," the Lady's gaze roamed slowly over Eleyn's body once more, obviously speculative. Eleyn's cheeks flushed under the scrutiny and Lady Lucia's mouth curled into a cold smirk as she reached out to pat Eleyn's cheek. With a curt nod, she barked to the guards, "Bring her to the cellar," then turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the side of the house. Godun started smartly after her, yanking on Eleyn's arm as he stepped forward and she barely managed to keep her feet, rushing to catch up.
The cellar, as it turned out, was not truly a cellar at all. Only partially under ground, there were just a few steps down to the door and even windows set high in the walls to let in the daylight. Eleyn had never seen anything quite like it - not that she knew anything about such things; she had hardly seen more than her own farm and the few ragged shops in the village. Still, her idea of a cellar was the dark, rough pit that sat beneath the trapdoor in her house. It certainly wasn't anything like this relatively bright, stone-lined, suspiciously clean room. There was even a fireplace along the outside wall.
All this, Eleyn took in with a quick eye as the guards hauled her through the doorway and part way across the room. There was a table to her left, various strings and knives set neatly in its centre. This must be where they prepared herbs for drying and suchlike, then. A tall wooden post set into the floor near the far wall and a few chairs here and there were the only other furnishings.
She drew herself upright as the guards stopped. Her fury just barely stronger than her fear, Eleyn clung to it, stoking it for courage. Though she didn't look at the Lady, Eleyn was aware - and wary - of her. She caught the change of light as Lady Lucia nodded, heard the cold edge of a smile in her words as she spoke.
"Good," Lucia murmured, and Eleyn could feel the weight of the gaze that slid over her, making her shudder. After a long moment, "Do I have to tell one of you to fetch the whip?" the Lady demanded, her voice razor sharp in the quiet room. Berg scrambled to obey, earning an almost inaudible sound of approval from Lady Lucia. Eleyn's gaze followed Berg as far as possible as she jerked against Godun's hold again, wanting to be free, at least, of the bruising grip on her arm. Wasn't it enough that she was trapped?
The Lady stepped in close to her, drawing Eleyn to look at her once more. There was a strange light in Lucia's eyes as she looked Eleyn over, both similar and somehow completely separate from that calculation she had seen in the eyes of the men she had known. A shiver raced down Eleyn's spine, though she managed to keep her gaze far more steady than her body in the face of Lucia's frank appraisal.
"Hmm," the Lady purred, "I think that I shall just watch them whip you, this time."
Eleyn clenched her jaw hard enough to send pain shooting through her jaw in an effort to keep her reaction from showing too clearly. A whipping was certainly not unheard of in cases like hers; she could be thankful, in fact, that she would be released with so little. The guards had caught her out with that rabbit, after all. The punishments for theft could be far, far worse than-
The end of Lucia's sentence sank in, and Eleyn's thoughts came to a crashing halt. Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she fixed Lucia with a disbelieving stare. "This time?"
Lacy Lucia's smile widened at the response and she reached out to tilt Eleyn's chin up a little. "Oh, so you speak as well, do you?"
Eleyn jerked her head to the side, tearing her jaw from Lucia's grip. "If there's any worth talking to," she hissed and then demanded, "What do you mean, this time?"
Untouched by Eleyn's fury, Lucia's smile didn't falter a bit, her hand instantly dropping to wrap tightly around her throat instead. Squeezing just a little as Eleyn squirmed under her grip, the Lady said softly, "Careful, or you'll lose more than the skin of your back." With that, she let go, and Eleyn swallowed hard against the lingering sensation of those long fingers pressed to her flesh. Though she stepped back, Lucia held Eleyn's gaze, her malicious smile bearing out the threat. "I see no need to answer to you."
Eleyn shot a look at Godun as the meaning of Lucia's words solidified in her mind. He stared straight ahead, for all the world as if he hadn't just heard Lucia's thinly veiled revelation. A wry grimace twisted Eleyn's features briefly as she considered that, with a mistress such as the Lady Lucia, he must be more than familiar with not hearing things. Still, she wasn't about to accept it so easily.
"You can't keep me here."
Lucia raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused. "Oh, can't I," she returned, the question not a question at all. She flicked her gaze over Eleyn's shoulder as Berg returned with the whip, giving him a little nod. Eleyn turned to look at him as he stepped close to her, the sight of the instrument he held making her knees feel weak and wanting to buckle beneath her.
She sucked in a sharp breath as she studied the whip - a flog, really - with its thin, vicious-looking tails and well-worn grip. Lucia of Dalhamm had earned her reputation, if that thing was anything by which to judge. Gathering herself as best she could, Eleyn turned her gaze back to the Lady.
"I know how it works," Eleyn said, he voice low and trembling despite her best efforts, "you can't." Her throat suddenly dry, Eleyn swallowed hard, "So get it over with and let me go."
The sound of Lady Lucia's laughter was the last thing that Eleyn expected to hear, and it both angered and shamed her as the Lady reached out to slide fingertips down the side of her face. "The rules? Who is here to enforce them? Who will defy me?" Lucia asked, tracing Eleyn's lip with her thumb, holding her gaze levelly.
Sudden understanding struck Eleyn like a physical blow, stealing her breath. Silently, she cursed herself for a fool as she realised that she'd just let her mouth talk her into a far worse situation than she had imagined. That this whipping would only be the beginning was imminently clear, and Eleyn began to tremble as her fear finally outstripped her pride and anger.
"But you can't," Eleyn murmured, unable to stop herself soon enough. She licked her lips as she retreated to defense, "I...I didn't mean-" Eleyn dropped her eyes, hating herself for the weakness of it, knowing that she had less than no choice. "My lady, please..."
"You presume to command me?" Lady Lucia hissed, cutting Eleyn's plea short, "You?" Eleyn cried out as Lucia raked her fingernails viciously down the side of her neck, jerking away from the pain, though not fast enough. She could feel the welts rising on her skin and the prickle of blood welling up in the abrasions as the lady continued, "I don't think you understand your place very well, slave." The Lady stepped back a little, and Eleyn risked a glance up at her, looking away again with a tiny shiver as she caught the unsettling smile on her lips.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Lucia snapped at Berg, "Get on with it."
Eleyn winced, biting back the sharp retort that sprang to her mind, determined to stay quiet as Lucia reached out to her, sliding cool fingers over the marks her fingernails had made, making them sting sharply. She might still get out of this all right, if she could just keep quiet, appear subservient. Perhaps the Lady would grow bored of toying with her if she could manage to be...uninteresting. Despair sank hard into her belly at the thought. Though she despised the very idea, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was the only possible answer.
"I'll see to correcting your opinions of yourself later," Lady Lucia drawled.
"I'm sorry," Eleyn ground out, but the apology was belied by the edge of anger she couldn't quite force from her voice, delivered as it was through clenched teeth.
Lucia gave a low chuckle, her amusement at Eleyn's struggles obvious. "Oh, I'm quite sure you are," she purred, licking delicately at the blood on her fingertips before reaching out to smear it over Eleyn's mouth and wiping the last of it on her dress. Eleyn's tiny grimace went either unnoticed or ignored as Lucia continued, "Not as much as you will be, however."
Squeezing her eyes shut, Eleyn berated herself again for not falling back to the pretense of repentant slave earlier. She had known the reputation of the mistress of Dalhamm for cruelty and caprice! How could she have been stupid enough to let her anger control her? Perhaps the priests were right about pride. Taking a deep, calming breath, she tried again, "Yes, my lady," she said, but even she could still hear the fury hiding beneath the words.
"Your lies are pitifully transparent, slave." Lucia gestured to Berg, calling him forward. "You may begin now."
Her breath suddenly caught short in her chest, Eleyn struggled to keep herself still as Berg moved in behind her. This was her last possible moment of escape, but there was none. No matter which path he mind took, she kept coming back to the same answer. There was nothing she could say or do now, to change what was about to happen. Tears welled up in Eleyn's eyes and she pursed her lips together, biting at them in an effort to stop herself crying, recoiling form the copper taste of her own blood.
"Oh, yes," Lucia breathed as she watched Eleyn, her gaze like a weight, her voice nearly obscene.
Eleyn hunched her shoulders, shivering at the well-known sound of metal through leather as Berg drew his dagger. Godun finally released her arm, stepping back a little and taking the flog as Berg took hold of Eleyn's cote, pulling it back, tight against her chest while he slid his blade through the fabric. Focussing her gaze on a crack between the stones on the floor, Eleyn tried not to notice the way her body jerked with Berg's movements or the strange tingling of her skin as the cooler air touched her exposed back. Then the guards had hold of her again, dragging her forward. Almost numb with fear now, just wanting it to be over, she went with them, meekly allowing them to raise her arms over the top of the wooden pillar she'd seen before. So this was its purpose, Eleyn thought as her bound wrists caught on a metal spike driven into the back of the pole. It hadn't made any sense, before.
Berg's large hands pushed at the remains of Eleyn's clothes, baring as much of her back a possible before both men stepped silently away from her. She held firm against the shudder that wanted to wrack her body, feeling utterly exposed and terrified of what was to come. Lady Lucia walked slowly over, standing close to the wall and fixing Eleyn with a cool gaze and an enigmatic little smile. She licked her lips, a soft, approving hum rising from her, and Eleyn couldn't help but wonder if it was the taste of her blood that seemed to please the Lady so.
Lucia nodded to Berg, then looked back to Eleyn, her smile widening and so cruel as the leather descended across her skin. Eleyn whimpered, the remains of a cry caught behind teeth ruthlessly clamped shut against the pain, the sound mingling with Lucia's sharply indrawn breath. Eyes squeezed tightly closed, Eleyn sucked in a deep breath herself, thankful that she had the strength to hold her ground, though she was fully aware that this was just the beginning. When she opened her eyes again the Lady was there, that terrible little smile still on her lips.
"Yes...look at me," Lady Lucia murmured, "Look only at me. I want to see the pain, the terror in your eyes." The satisfied edge in her voice stirred Eleyn's fury once more; she called on it, shoving her fear down as far as she could, determined not to give Lucia what she wanted. Fists clenched, Eleyn took a half-step closer to the post, raising her head and pinning the Lady with a burning glare. Lucia gestured to Berg, and the flog descended again.
A low grunt escaped Eleyn, who flinched as the tails licked at her skin, but this time she opened her eyes again immediately. Staring directly at Lucia, Eleyn steeled herself, holding tightly to her rage and refusing to show the fear that Lucia wanted. Eleyn's stomach turned as that smile widened and Lucia's eyes slid half-closed.
"So much anger, little slave," the Lady chuckled, her voice low and teasing. Her lips parted slightly as the lash struck Eleyn's flesh once more, the slow fire building in her eyes growing that much more. Lucia reached out, sliding the backs of her fingers lightly down Eleyn's cheek, openly seductive and equally repulsive. Eleyn jerked back is if the touch burned, her lip curling in a half-snarl as she turned her head, breaking the contact.
The Lady laughed, her hand snaking out to grab a fistful of Eleyn's hair, instead. Leaning a little closer, she whispered, "Pull away once more, and I'll have them flay you to death."
Eleyn hissed at the sting in her scalp, fighting down her response; she was entirely sure that Lucia would have no compunction about carrying out that threat. The leather crossed her back again, and Eleyn whimpered quietly, her grip on herself slipping with every strike. Still, she choked back the sob that rose in her throat, wanting to close her eyes but unable to swallow her pride enough to allow it. Her back burned, lines of bright pain laced across her skin, half-naked and bound for what was increasingly obviously the Lady's entertainment, and Eleyn simply couldn't just give in.
Lucia's grip on her hair tightened, her soft sigh reaching Eleyn's ears as she stepped in closer. "Don't be afraid to scream, little girl," the Lady breathed, "I won't laugh too much, I promise." Eleyn swallowed hard, shoving down her disgust with the pleasure evident in the words.
Tears began to form in Eleyn's eyes again, the steady stroke of the lash renewing her agony at regular intervals. She set her jaw, grinding her teeth together until it hurt almost as much as her back, using every last ounce of her consciousness to try to hold back the cries that clawed at her throat. Suddenly the lick of the flog was different, the pain deeper, more searing, cutting through the vague numbness of the burn. Eleyn's eyes slammed shut, a whimper slipping out of her as she fought to control herself. The realisation that her skin was now splitting open tore through her mind, somehow worse than the pain.
Lucia watched, her body drawing closer, her words shifting from taunts to praise and back again. Eleyn lost her hold, slipping further and further from reality as the pain folded in on itself until every breath was an agony of heat and the copper smell of her blood. She cried out, sobbed and pleaded, her tears smoothed away by the soft touch of Lucia's tongue and Eleyn couldn't remember to hate her for that. Eventually Eleyn's body gave out, collapsing heavily against the post. She wondered briefly if someone was stabbing her wrists, unable to lift her head to see and not really caring anymore. After what felt like an eternity, the slightly familiar presence of her guards returned and they lifted her, taking the worst of it away.
Distantly, Eleyn heard the commands, "Have her cleaned up...bring her back..." but she couldn't rouse herself to make sense of them. Something in the words tugged at her but when she tried to focus on it, it slipped away, skittering out of the light. She retreated into herself, wanting so much to let the world go, but afraid of the darkness that lapped at the edges of her mind.
Then they were carrying her toward the door, their movements shaking and jostling until she simply couldn't fight it anymore, sinking into that darkness like a stone.