"Unbroken"
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from the Black Jewels series belong to Anne Bishop. No copyright infringement is intended.
Sick girl.
Disgusting woman.
Her family was prepared for her to be broken. They'd already began mourning. They weren't ready for this though.
She saw the suspicion in their eyes even as her mother embraced her and cried. "I was so worried. What did he do to you?"
"I'm not broken. I am whole." Her green jewel was intact. She was still one of the now rare dark jeweled Black Widows in Hyall.
Her father spoke up. "Dorothea's man; where is he?"
"I suppose he returned to his home or his barracks."
She headed to her bedroom, unable to stand the sight of her family any longer.
I am who I am, she told herself, and it saved me.
Vile woman.
How could she have enjoyed it?
How could the rough touch of one of Dorothea's butchers have excited the way none of the village boys' tentative caresses had ever done?
She should be grateful to be sane and whole. The intention had been to break to her; the way Dorothea had sent her soldiers to break dark jeweled witches and Black Widows of any jewel strength. Really, she was very lucky. To be both a Black Widow and wear the Green, and still be intact? It was a miracle.
That didn't change the fact that tomorrow the entire village would be abuzz with the news. Did you hear? Maya was dragged out of her house by one of Dorothea's men? The poor girl! No, no, there's more. She came back unharmed.
She could imagine the looks of revulsion on their faces. There were only two things that could save a virgin witch who'd been targeted by Dorothea: pledging her loyalty to Dorothea, or surviving the rape unbroken.
It was better if people thought she was now Dorothea's creature. At least then they'd be afraid of taunting her. That was better than the truth.
Because if her family and friends, and the rest of the villagers, and the entire damn territory knew the truth, they'd sneer at her and call her names every time she walked by.
How could a nice witch from a nice family have enjoyed that? How could she have sighed and moaned and arched while Dorothea's rapist bit her and bruised her flesh and forced himself into her?
It would have been easier to face the world as a broken witch, a shadow of her former self. That's what the world expected. That was easier to comprehend than the truth.
She consoled herself with the thought that at least the man was probably being tortured by Dorothea at this very moment. He'd failed his assigned task. It wouldn't matter that he'd sincerely tried and had only been thwarted by a freak of nature.
May the Darkness help me, she prayed. She couldn't stay here. She had to leave, go to another territory where no one knew her and knew what should have happened and what didn't happen because she was a sick, sad woman. It didn't matter that her body's unnatural reaction had saved her. She had to go where she was free to practice her craft without being known by whatever nasty epithet the village would think up.
Or she could join Dorothea's coven.
End
Author's Note: I've had this idea for a while now, but I'm terrible with multi-chapter fics so I wrote it as a drabble. I figured it had to have happened at least once in the history of the Blood, especially since they are a rather perverse people. Anyway, this is set early in Dorothea's reign. As for the character's final decision; I leave that up to you.
