Ringed
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, world or concepts used; all characters, world and concepts belong to Anne Bishop. The lyrics are an excerpt of The Last Dance, by Within Temptation. It's property and copyright of Within Temptation. I do not own them.
Author's Note:So, here's another story about… Daemon, of course. He's just too yummy to let him go (but I am working on other characters as well, promise). The lyrics are an excerpt of The Last Dance, by Within Temptation. Amazing song, amazing band! I hope you enjoy it. As usual, feedback makes my day!
Daemon stood in the same place for a long, long time after the door slammed shut.
It was the first time they had left him alone since they brought him from the altar. It was also the first time he had been completely still and silent.
He was naked. He was tired and hurt. He was shaking, even though the room was uncomfortably warm. His arms and legs were bruised from fighting the guards that held him, his back and bottom hurt from the beating. Worse than that, his Jewel - his precious Birthright Red - had been taken from him.
He approached the mirror and stood in front of it. His face changed into a suspicious frown as he looked down at the gold band around his penis.
He had tried to fight them. Squeezing his Jewel tight in his hand, he'd struggled to keep the shield up like he'd been taught to do, but they kept hitting him, kept taunting him with mean lies….
He didn't believe them. His Papa wouldn't have left him behind. Not with her. He'd gotten the Red, a new Jewel, never worn before. Like his Papa's Birthright Jewel. He'd be proud of him, Daemon knew he would. But Saetan had left before he could reach him.
He didn't know why his Papa had left. He was so powerful, he could've taken him out of there if he had wanted to. Scared and confused, Daemon kept fighting them, kept fighting the words that hurt him more than their fists did.
That was when she came into the room and told him she had Tersa. Then, she told him what she would do to his Mama if he didn't do what she said.
Daemon stopped fighting. Trying to hold back the tears, he lowered the shield for good and let them undress him and take his Jewel from him.
It had hurt at first, when they placed the Ring, but now it just felt heavy, tight and uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to do. He only knew it was called a Ring of Obedience and it would "help him remember how to behave".
His frown narrowed. He didn't know why he was here. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to go home with Tersa. She had said she'd make him nutcakes and his Papa was coming over for dinner.
A tear slid down his cheek. If only he could find his Papa. If he could find him, he knew he'd come and take him and Tersa back home.
*Papa?* He called out. He didn't know how to narrow the thoughts down to a single mind yet, so he reached out as far as he could. *Papa?*
Dorothea slowly opened the door and walked into the room, closing it behind her. The boy wasn't a threat anymore. Not Ringed; not without the Red. It could have become a problem, if he had the training, but she had it safely hidden now.
Daemon was standing in front of the mirror, his small naked body shaking and covered in bruises. He'd put up quite a fight, for a child without much training in Craft or battle. Something she would have to discuss with her Master of the Guard later.
She turned her attention fully to the boy in front of her.
"He can't hear you. He won't come, no matter how much you call."
Daemon wiped the tears off of his face and met her eyes. His pretty face was twisted with disgust and anger. But Dorothea also found fear in his eyes. She ran her eyes over his body and her smile grew wider. Such a pretty little toy. And all hers to play with.
She rubbed a finger against the Controling Ring on her finger as her eyes laid on the Ring around him. He took a step back, the fear slowly gaining ground to that Warlord Prince confidence. Oh, this would be fun!
"I want my clothes and I want my Jewel. It's mine, you can't take it from me." He said, defiantly.
Such fire in those golden eyes. "My dear, I can do whatever I please. You belong to me, now. You serve me." She replied pleasantly.
"Never! I hate you! When my Papa comes, he'll- Aaaahhh!"
She watched with amusement as he fell to his knees, grabbing his groin. He gasped for air and bit his lip hard, trying not to cry. It had been just a hint of the pain she could cause him, but he was smart, he would understand the message.
When his breathing steadied and the sobbing faded, he raised his head and looked at her hand, still raised, the Controling Ring flashing under the witchlight.
She took a step towards him. He struggled to get back on his feet. Another step. He held his breath, as if waiting for the pain to hit once more.
"Did you like that?" She asked sweetly.
The icy fire in those eyes was the same she'd seen before in the High Lord's eyes. Yes, this boy was exactly what she had tried so hard to get. Such power, such rage, just waiting to be molded to her will.
"I thought so. The High Lord isn't coming for you. He fulfilled his contract with the Hourglass, he has no other business here. You're mine. Now, you will learn some manners and a few rules. You will do whatever I tell you to do, whenever I tell you to do it, or I will have to discipline you. Is that understood?"
He swallowed hard. Then, he clenched his little fists and raised his chin high. "I won't serve you. I'm not doing anything you tell me to do."
Dorothea raised her hand again, smiling a cruel smile at the sulky boy in front of her. This would be so much fun...
She sang for you last night,
She heard you were calling,
Yearning in tears a thousand times...
Daemon lay on the cold bed, a bed that wasn't his, his small bruised body covered in sweat and shaking from the pain that still burned his nerves. Tears slid silently down his cheeks and onto the pillow.
Dorothea hadn't left until she had him on the floor, crying and begging her to stop. All the while, she'd kept saying his father didn't want him because he was nothing but a bastard; that his mother's condition was his fault. Lies repeated over and over, slowly destroying a young boy's defenses and will to fight her.
A maid had come in a few minutes later, picking him up from the floor and helping him into the bed. He hadn't struggled, hadn't said anything. He barely seemed conscious of his surroundings.
Don't be scared now,
Close your eyes,
She holds guard tonight.
Go on forward, no remorse,
Life will take its course.
Slowly, his Papa's voice became stronger in his mind, pushing away Dorothea's words. Saetan had told him many stories, but Witch's stories were his favorites. He didn't quite understand the meaning of those words yet, but that lullaby always comforted him like nothing else would. It was the lullaby his Papa sang to him whenever he felt sad and went searching for cuddles.
Daemon curled up into a tight ball, hugged his knees close to his chest and hummed the words over and over again, trying to keep the fear at bay.
He'd find a way to go back home soon.
Author's Note #2: A final word. I want to thank everyone who reviewed my stories. Thank you so very much for giving me a few minutes of your time by reading and giving me feedback. It warms my heart to read your reviews and I appreciate any suggestions I can get.