Throb

Solona groaned, attempting to bring her hand up to her head to rub it. It was pounding mercilessly, a steady drumming beat that nagged at her. But her hands refused to budge.

"Urgh, what…" She cracked her eyes open, squinting against the wavering amber light.

"Oh, you're awake! I was starting to worry." His voice sounded above her, and she looked up to see Alistair's frowning face hanging over her.

"I'm going to strangle Anora when I get out!" She hissed through her teeth.

"Do you mind if I pin her down while you do? Or perhaps kick her?" Alistair replied dryly, drawing a one small tight laugh from her, which only worsened the ache. As if feeling the pain himself, he leaned down and pressed of soft kiss on her hair. Despite it all, it made her feel better as always.

"Let me up," she mumbled. Solona gasped as she sat up from Alistair's lap, the dull ache behind her head growing sharp with the motion. Her shackled hands clanged, adding to the headache. After she adjusted to the new position, Solona looked around the dim room.

She could see the solid bars of metal which surrounded them both in the dim candle lights, while the icy stone floor and rotten straws completed the set. She looked up to see the bars reach all the way up to the highly arched ceiling.

"I've never seen a prison from this side before, though I got close a few times in the Circle. Very scenic."

"Hah, 'join the Grey Wardens! See the sights from the floors of the best prisons in the land!' It's not much of a recruitment slogan, is it?" He chuckled, allowing her to lean against him to steady herself.

"What happened, Alistair?"

"Well, you told the others to keep Anora alive, so they raced out to lead her away while we bought them time. But then she knocked you out flat with a club as she went and they overwhelmed me."

"I wonder if Zevran's slit her throat yet."

"You did tell them to keep her alive before she betrayed us. Who knows, maybe that did the trick?"

Solona groaned as a fresh wave of nausea washed over her. She bent over, breathing through the pain to focus her thoughts.

"Alistair, we are the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden right now. And we both got caught by Loghain."

The last of the thin humor was wiped away from his lips. He didn't say anything, but his grim eyes did. Alistair's hardened eyes spoke of everything she needed to know. It was the one scenario they'd feared for the entire year since Ostagar. Both of them… indisposed, with no other Grey Wardens left to oppose the Blight in Ferelden.

"We need to escape." She rasped out, trying to keep her stomach down.

"I know. But how?"

She looked around again, scanning for anything they could possibly use for their advantage. They were both stripped down to their smalls, not to mention her hands were firmly trapped inside rusty shackles, preventing her from casting any spells. She silently cursed herself for not learning the trick of dislocating her thumbs to escape from Zevran earlier. She shivered as the chill from the rough stone floor climbed her limbs.

"They've kept us alive. Why?"

Alistair drew her back into his embrace, rubbing her arms to help her warm up. "I don't know… I thought they were going to execute us right away, but they just stuffed us in here and disappeared."

"Alistair, I know that look. What?"

"Ah, just about had you, didn't I?"

"Alistair!" Solona smacked his arm, or as much as she could with shackled hands, and he finally sighed.

"I… I think that they might want a confession from us. A confession that the Grey Wardens really did plan to commit treason at Ostagar."

"What?!"

"That way, Loghain would be able to clear his name officially. There were some nobles doubting his claims about what happened at Ostagar, which is what the civil war boils down to. But if we were to openly admit that we really did commit treason, well, the civil war would end at that point and leave him free to focus on Orlais."

Solona clenched her teeth, waiting for him to continue.

"Of course, we wouldn't admit to treason even if they were to give us the best cheese in all of Thedas…"

"So they will torture us." She finished for him.

"Well, I could be completely wrong you know. What do I know about what goes in that Loghain's head of his? For all we know they might have shucked us in here until they could finish the right paperwork to let us leave…"

He trailed off, unable to keep his voice light.

"…all right, we need to get out of here. Can you…?"

"I don't know. They tied my hands, but theoretically I could expel my mana all at once and blast out of here. But that would be literally me forcing magic out of my body, not any actual casting. I won't be able to control the explosion – and you'd get caught in the explosion as well. Of course I also feel like I have concussion thanks to Anora, so I don't think I'll be able to exert any delicate control over my magic…"

"Well, I could try to Cleanse, Spell Purge, or Annulment the area around me to shield myself…"

Then they both heard it. A heavy door thumping open somewhere nearby and multiple heavy footsteps growing louder, and Solona whispered.

"Alistair, you're twice my weight and there's no way we can escape from here with me dragging you. At least you'll be able to carry me. I'll draw the attention, so keep yourself safe!"

"But-"

"Hello there, little Linny."

Solona froze, a voice far too familiar chuckling as it neared them. She daren't look up, refusing to confirm with her eyes what she already knew. Soon she heard the squeak of a key turning in a rusty lock, and the heavy footsteps clanged to a stop next to her.

"Well, don't just sit there Linny. Stand up and greet me properly. Been too long, eh?"

A rough hand snatched her chin and pulled her up to her feet, forcing her to look into the familiar green eyes glittering with malice.

"Benin," She spat.

His response was as swift as it was sure. Her cheek exploded as he struck her, and Solona nearly buckled under the force were it not for the iron grip he had on her face.

"That'd be Knight-Corporal Benin, Linny." He smiled.

Solona blinked through the stars, thanking the Maker that Alistair was shocked into silence. It would be simple enough task to keep them all focused on her if Benin was here.

"Did you run from the Circle, Benin? Always knew you were a coward. A deserter." She panted, spitting out a glob of blood at his face. He struck her again, the force of the blow throwing her to the ground as he released her chin. She fell hard, her head banging against the floor. Her shackled hands did nothing to soften the fall and Solona laid there, dazed.

"I volunteered to come to Denerim to invoke the Right of Annulment, Linny." He crouched low, his gravelly voice booming past the buzzing in her ears. "But I hear there's no need for that now thanks to you, Linny. Saved the Circle, did you? Good girl."

Cool metal touched her messy hair then, the pressure suggesting that he was patting her.

"Now I'm to wait for further instructions here while they clean up the mess you Mages made. But it's not all bad I suppose. I got to see you, Linny. Without Irving, or Cullen, or even Knight-Commander Greagoir hovering by. What's more, I am ordered to… play… with you by the Teyrn Loghain himself."

She smiled the best she could, shaking the mess of hair and blood out of her mouth.

"Ah Benin. And yet you still can't muster up the courage to face me on even grounds. How will you ever live through the shame after this?"

Benin kicked her in the stomach with his metal sabaton, driving the wind from her lungs. She coughed and gagged. curling into a ball despite herself. But she couldn't stay like that for long as he dragged her up by the hair to his eye level once more. She bit down on her lips, refusing to scream in pain.

"I'll make you regret ever setting a foot outside the Circle, whore. You were to be mine, Linny. Before that runt came along, you were to be my little Mage. I'll teach you what happens when you try to run from me, Linny. Boys, string her up."

Gloved hands tightened on her bare arms, dragging her out of the cell. Solona had just a moment to look at furious Alistair, a split second to mouth stay put! at him before they hauled her to the center of the room. The guards shuffled around, and her metal shackles were soon replaced by thick ropes and she was hung from the ceiling in shape of a Y.

"Ye ain't gonna be needing this, wench." A guard sneered as he pressed the cool edge of a dagger against her breast, slicing through the thin fabrics binding her chest. The blade then trailed down her side, and her smalls fell away as well.

She snorted.

"Really, Benin? That's the best you can do?" She giggled, lifting her head with some difficulty. Considering she was raised in as an apprentice in the Circle of Magi, being nude hardly affected her.

"Linny, Linny, Linny." Benin tutted somewhere behind her, his tone soft as if placating a small child.

"You must learn to be patient, little Linny." His footsteps clanged towards her, and she could feel the chill climbing up her spine the closer the noise came. But she refused to flinch, to give him the satisfaction that tiny shiver could bring him. Instead she tossed her head, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

"Well, I always was energetic." She grinned, scanning the room from this new vantage point. It was a huge room, with tall arches going so far up that the ceiling was plunged in the darkness. There were no windows, the only wavering light produced by the burning candles lit the room. Various… equipment such as wooden racks, chains, and painful looking things took up most of the pace, leaning against the walls or placed on the floor. She could see countless dark stains of dried blood stains on the floor and gears now, though the owners of it were nowhere to be seen. Solona noted the only people in this room were her enemies, and Alistair locked in a small cell a few paces away. As long as she could find a way to keep Alistair safe from her magic, escape didn't seem impossible.

Cool leather touched her back, sliding up the small length to her shoulder blades before traveling down low towards her ass. Before long the rod traveled over the curve of her buttocks, coming to rest at the junction where her thighs met her cheeks.

"You were coddled." Benin's voice spoke by her ear, his tone conversational.

"Coddled and spoiled by that wretch Irving, by that undisciplined brat Cullen. Even the Knight-Commander was lenient when it came to you."

The leather-covered rod drew lazy circles on her skin as Benin continued.

"You are long overdue for a punishment, Linny. I know how you bent the rules in the Circle, naughty little thing. And bad girls must be punished."

A whistle in the air was the only warning before Solona lurched forward, biting down hard on her lips to contain her scream. Excruciating pain exploded on her back and her ropes creaked, forcing her to stay in place as she writhed, straining her tied arms to the utmost limit. She panted hard while bending over as much as her bindings allowed, forcing herself to breathe through the pain.

Benin leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Oh, don't you worry Linny. We wouldn't want you looking too… unpresentable for the Court. This beauty here won't mark your beautiful skin too much despite what it may feel like."

He waved the thing for her to see, and Solona realized what the leather rod was. It was the handle to a whip, multiple broad, supple leather strips hanging from its head. True to his words, Solona did not see any blood on them.

"My, how thoughtful of you." She gasped out, forcing her lips into a smile.

"Before we get started in earnest, shall we set some ground rules?" Benin tapped the whip against her cheek thoughtfully.

"We both know how powerful you are Linny. Maker's cursed you with even more magic than other Mages. But it will take ages for me to drain you of your mana completely, and who wants to waste time on such a menial task while there's fun to be had?"

"I thought patience was a good thing?" Solona wondered, earning a grin in return.

"Ah, that smart mouth of yours… I'll be sure to educate it properly soon enough." He sighed, rubbing a gauntleted finger over her bloody lips. The cool metal lessened the pain there somewhat. He drew his thumb back, licking away a drop of blood smeared on it.

"Now, you can blast away if you want and you might be able to do just that to those guards standing over there." Benin swept an arm out towards the guards standing by the torture gears, three of them all inspecting the equipment.

"But unluckily for you, I'm here too. And if you blast hard enough to overpower my Holy Smite, of course you'll also kill that manwhore in the cell as well."

Solona stiffened, refusing to look at Alistair. She'd been hoping Benin had completely forgotten about Alistair… but a hostage would do as well. As long as they left him alone, there was a chance they could both escape.

"Now Linny, say you won't rebel like a good girl." Benin grinned.

"…I won't." Solona bit out slowly, each word a painful drop out of her lips. Her response was met with a chorus of chuckles from the torturers.

"Good girl. Very good girl." Benin pecked a quick kiss on her cheek. "Now, let's get started."

Pain wrecked through her the moment he spoke, the whip lashing against her buttocks, her thighs, her back. The tendrils wrapped around her slender form, leaving angry welts wherever it kissed her skin, the red blossoming on her breasts, stomach, her back. She bit down on her lips until blood dripped from her mouth, unwilling to scream. She pulled and clawed against the ropes around her wrist, until it rubbed her skin raw, until blood trickled down her arms.

Faintly, she thought she heard Alistair shouting somewhere. But the blows raining down on her unprotected flesh never slowed, and Solona took comfort in Benin's maniacal obsession in her. She trusted as long as he was there, Alistair would be safe.

She wasn't sure how long she endured the whipping for. Ten minutes? An hour? Two? The only break was for the torturers to take turns in whipping her, and darkness had started to creep into her vision long ago. And when her world was fully swallowed up by blackness, icy bucket of water splashed into her face to bring her back. Dripping wet, the claws of the whip tore her skin apart, sending slivers of daggers into her bones before the heat from the blows dried her, repeating the process.

But Solona managed to suppress her screams. And they tired of the game before she did.

"Linny, does it not hurt?" His voice echoed far away, but she had no strength left in her to answer. The rod once again prodded against her face, and it forced her eyes up until Benin's green eyes lazily swam into focus.

"You won't scream, Linny. It's supposed to hurt, but… am I doing something wrong?" He asked, concern laced thick through his voice.

She coughed, her voice refusing to come until she cleared it painfully.

"I… I think… you're… the one that needs… some lessons… in patience." She whispered, hoarse.

"You think so?" Benin brushed against his beard, thoughtful. She hadn't noticed when he'd taken his gauntlets off.

"But men have been reduced to begging whelps after a round of whipping you've just endured… I don't understand." He mused, examining her bloody lips.

"What… can I… say? I'm… st… stubborn…" She panted.

A fierce grin replaced his frown, and Benin backhanded her. Her neck snapped, her body thrown sideways until her ropes creaked, bringing her back. Her shins dragged against the floor, her legs having buckled long ago. Only the ropes tied around her wrists kept her hanging upright.

"That you are, my dear Linny." Benin smiled and he backhanded her again. Her shoulders screamed in protest as she was flung against her restraints once more.

"Didn't think my boys would tire out before you though." He spoke, stroking her cheek tenderly as he did.

"Wusses." She gasped.

"Did you hear that boys? This tiny little thing managed to outlast you all. Ought to be ashamed of yourselves." Benin laughed. Solona wondered if she had imagined a hint of approval in his eyes.

"But Linny, we're working hard to get a confession out of you. We were supposed to get you to say… what was it?" Benin turned to ask the others. They only shrugged.

"Hmph, unimportant. Either way, you need to tell us how to punish you properly for not cooperating. Tell me, how did Irving chastise you in the Circle? How did Knight-Commander discipline you?"

"Try… flogging me." She spoke, willing her voice to stay steady. "Ah wait… you already did that, huh."

"Linny, Linny… it is difficult enough trying to… play with you, without making it look like we did. But perhaps we should take a little risk. If worst comes to happen, well, we do have a spare one we can use." Benin glanced at the direction of a cell.

"So, what… do you want to do next?" Solona asked, drawing his attention back to herself quickly.

"I always was fond of your… enthusiasm." He grinned. "Good girl, let me give you a small reward. I'll give you a choice… you see over there?" He pointed, and Solona twisted her head with an effort to look where he was pointing.

A wooden rack rested on the floor, with two pulleys attached at each end and connected to the cranks and ropes looped around the wheels.

"That's one option. Your other two options are over there." And he pointed across the room, toward another wooden contraption that stood on four legs carrying a horizontal triangular body. Right nearby was a taller stool with a wooden pyramid on top. Above the two hung a metal collar, she saw.

"This… may come as a surprise Benin," Solona panted.

"But I know nothing about torture devices. All I see are rectangles and triangles."

The men roared with laughter. She noticed there were more now than before.

"Well, you're not wrong." Benin chuckled heartily, finally settling down. "Thought the brilliant Linny might be able to figure out what they're for, but I suppose everyone has their limits."

"That rectangular rack you see there? Well, it's called a rack. Not too hard, is it?" He waited, and she shook her head.

"What happens is, we strap you down on it with the ropes you see there, your arms and legs separately of course, and we crank the handles. You're pulled apart, until all your limbs are dislocated. Maybe if we pull hard enough your limbs will tear off." He explained cheerfully, and Solona couldn't help but shudder at the image it brought up in her head. She remembered Oswyn she'd rescued, who'd been strapped to the rack. She was glad she hadn't examined the device closely back then.

"And the other two?" She asked.

"Ah, that stool you see? We call it the Maferath's cradle. We'd sit you on it, Linny. Though I must mention, with my boys being so lazy they don't ever wash the pointy part. Unsavory bits from previous users may still be on there."

"Men, they're always such pigs." She shook her head, sighing.

"And for the last but not least, we have the wooden horse. Maybe we'll call it a wooden pony for little Linny, hmm? Works pretty much the same as the Maferath's cradle. You'd sit on top of it."

Solona scanned the torture devices, her mind whirling. The rack was out of the question, absolutely. If all her limbs were dislocated, how could she possibly fight? Her chances of escape diminished rapidly with it. So she was left with the two triangular options. They didn't seem too different… but Benin mentioned that one of them wasn't ever cleaned. Perhaps she could catch an infection from it? Solona wasn't too worried – before the infection could do serious harm to her, Wynne would be able to heal her. But if she wasn't able to escape from this prison in time...

"Now Linny, you must choose. What would you like to do? Which toy shall we play with?"

"The horse. I always did want to try riding a horse." She shrugged the best she could. "But I wouldn't mind too much if you sat me down for a while on the cradle either. My legs are killing me here, Benin."

"The horse it is!" He exclaimed, waving forth the other men. "Let's get her on that horse quickly, boys! I wouldn't want to keep Linny waiting."

Turned out, riding the horse was a little more complicated than she thought to be.

The guards fiddled with the legs of the horse, somehow adjusting the height of the triangular body until she could just barely brush against the floor with the tip of her toes. Once they were satisfied with that, one torturer snapped the metal collar around her neck, and pulled it tight until she had some difficulty breathing. Her hands were, of course, tied behind her back so she couldn't cast. Soon the men stepped away, leaving Solona to tither precariously on the horse. She bit down on her lips once more, feeling the sharp edge of the 'horse' press severely against her cunt. The collar helped to alleviate some of her weight, but in turn it limited her breathing.

Benin observed her carefully then stepped forward. "Almost complete, Linny. Just need to fix one small thing…"

With a delicate, almost tender touch, Benin pressed his finger against her lower lips. Solona started, tried to twist her body away as much as she could but it only gave cause for others to laugh as she was quite securely immobile. Benin carefully parted her lower lips, until the edge bore in directly against her soft inner flesh, and her clit. Solona whimpered, the quiet noise leaking out of bitten lips.

"There you go. Feeling alright, Linny?"

"I… thought… horses… galloped." Solona hissed through clenched teeth.

"That they do, dear. But it's your first time riding a horse, is it not? Small steps, Linny. Small steps. For now, I do believe we will follow your advice and continue flogging. Boys?"

And the men stepped towards with lascivious grins, each holding their own whips she'd gotten so closely acquainted with earlier. Savage blows soon rained down on her exposed flesh, and Solona writhed as much as she could. But her collar kept her spine straight, and she could not curl in on herself, to find that meager protection. She tasted the sharp metal tang of blood on her tongue, her breasts rippled and bounced as the leather slapped against them, and her buttocks jumped to draw out appreciative whistles and groans from her tormentors each time the whip flew across her skin.

And through it all, Solona's legs shook with exhaustion to carry her weight on her toes, her breathing labored against the metal collar. And when she felt the welcome unconsciousness envelop her, metal collar would bite into her neck to bring her back. Tears welled up, and fell. Angry tears she could not wipe rolled down her cheeks, and she saw Benin's satisfied smile light up his face. Alistair's continued shouts and screams rang out hollow in the huge room, and Solona prayed, prayed for this nightmare to be over soon.

Thankfully, the guards whipping her, flaying her soon began to tire. Until she was left trembling on the horse, no blows forthcoming to further redden her.

The room had emptied out while she was being beaten, and she now only saw two guards in the room.

"Traitorous slut," she heard them mutter, but she could not bring herself to care.

Her legs were on fire, exhaustion shaking them painfully until she could not support herself anymore. Her neck was rubbed raw the on metal collar, and she felt the slickness of blood. She could see nothing, hear nothing beyond the small bubble of the horse – not even Alistair's anguished cry could shake her out of the pained stupor.

Until rough hands pulled at her breasts.

She snapped her head up, to look at the two guards crowding around.

"Wha…" she rasped, her throated parched dry.

"Cunt, we don't care if you want to submit or not. All we want is to deliver justice on traitors." One of them growled.

The other grabbed a handful of her breast with a bruising force, and Solona whined weakly.

"Until Knight-Corporal gives us the permission though, all we can do is wait. So we'll wait, and prepare your right." He sneered.

"Your cunt will be full with us soon enough." They chuckled, before leaving her alone.

For the rest of the hours she was blissfully ignored, Solona endured. She did not look to Alistair, or speak to him as the guards stayed with her, and she did not wish to draw any attention to him than absolutely necessary. And like that she rode the horse for all night long.