A/N: Written for the anon kink meme on LJ. Prompt: Valter/Eirika, Rape. Yes, that's the topic and that's what happens, so leave now if you don't want to read that. I try to deal with it in the best way possible, but... there's not really way to soften such a topic... Please tell me what you think!
Words: 1101
Characters: Eirika, Valter, Seth
Time: Anytime during the events of Sacred Stones
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me.
He was circling her, like the foul vulture he was, his eyes roving over her bare flesh. She held her head high, determined not to show fear, even though her heart was racing so fast, so frantically, that she felt it must surely exhaust itself to a standstill, and soon.
The stone floor of Grado Keep's deepest, darkest prison was ice against her bare feet. But when Valter's hand shot towards her, pressed against her skin, she was disgusted by the heat, the sticky spread of his fingers over her hips, her stomach, her breasts.
Instinctively, she flinched away from his touch, scrambling backwards in the tiny cell. He let out a mad cackle as she found herself all too soon in a dank corner.
"You cannot escape, my darling," he said lightly. He walked towards her, one step at a time, slowly, the predator stalking its prey.
Eirika closed her eyes and bit her lip so hard that it began to bleed. His fingers were there in an instant.
"Beautiful," he murmured.
"Don't touch me!" she yelled, and she made to raise her arms to hit him, to resist, to fight – like Ephraim and Seth always taught her; she was no helpless princess – she had come so far –
A fist slammed into her middle, knocking out all her breath; her legs gave way, and she crumpled to the floor. Valter pinned her there, stretching her wrists above her head, elongating her body as she gasped for breath. She felt his knees push her legs apart. His free hand worked at his belt.
"Oh, how I have longed for this," he whispered in her ear. Eirika shuddered. With the weight of his body pressing her down now, he no longer needed to hold her wrists; he slid his hand down her body. Without warning, he pushed his fingers inside her, harshly, bluntly, and she could not suppress a gasp of shock and pain.
"My virgin princess, indeed," he said. His voice was drenched in immoral rapture.
He smelled of sweat and grime when he pressed himself upon her, of blood and rotten meat when he bared his yellowed teeth. The fear that trembled through Eirika's veins was as none she had ever felt before, not when Ephraim disappeared, not when her castle was destroyed, not when she faced countless, faceless enemies on the battlefield. Here, in this captivity, she was bound to her fears and to his will, but she could not, would not beg for mercy; she would not let the weakness in her body betray her soul –
Physical pain laced through her body as he thrust himself into her. She could feel her insides tearing, screaming with protest, wet blood on her thighs, but though tears leaked from her eyes, she refused to allow any cry to escape from her lips. Terror as much as will struck her dumb. Valter's eyes gleamed madly, and she could feel his fury at her silence building as he attacked her more fiercely with every movement.
He roared in frustration. With both hands, he grabbed her breasts like a taunted beast, with fingernails as his claws and furious lust as his strength. Eirika gasped, but did not cry out. She could feel her stomach roiling with disgust at the overpowering stench, the ripping pain in her body, the shame in her soul.
"NO!"
Valter, in his mad heat, had not heard the shout; but Eirika's eyes flew open, staring over Valter's shoulders to the shadow of another man towering above her.
And then, without warning, hot blood cascaded over her body. A sword protruded from Valter's chest, the point inches from her own body. His blood soaked her skin, thick and foul. When the sword was removed with a jerk, Valter fell, crushing her with his dead weight and suffocating her with gore. A shadow with burning eyes towered above her, and the face was mildly familiar, but so distorted by revulsion and antipathy that it was not yet recognizable.
"Eirika. Eirika!"
The dead man's weight was suddenly lifted from her, though the cloak of blood remained. She gazed through shock-wide eyes at the man now kneeling in front of her, tearing his cloak from his shoulders – a man -
"No! Get away from me!" she screamed without thinking.
The man froze with his cloak stretched towards her. His eyes were no longer burning, his face no longer twisted in agony and fury. Instead, the man looked terrified and desperate, and only then, in that brief moment of stillness, did Eirika recognize him.
"Seth?" she managed, raspy, slurred.
"Princess – Eirika, oh, Eirika, I… I…"
His tone and his gaze spoke of anguish, of torture; his hand with the cloak trembled, but he frantically began to wipe the blood from her body. The difference between his touch and Valter's was so stark that Eirika began to cry, freely, gasping for air amongst her tears. She wanted to reach out to him, to hide from the blackness in his comforting arms, to allow him to heal the wounds in her body, heart, and soul.
Too soon, she remembered her nudity, and so, it seemed, did Seth; they both glanced away from each other, but Eirika could not bring herself to pull away from his heat. Her gaze was drawn at once to Valter's body. His eyes were still as wide open as they had been when he had been devouring her, destroying her. Now they were blank and glassy.
"I will… go find L'arachel," Seth said hurriedly, making to stand up. "I - "
Eirika finally found strength in her bruising and bleeding limbs, her broken soul, her shattered pride. "No!" she said, scrambling to catch him. She clung to his arm. "Please… don't leave me alone. Don't leave me in here, Seth. Please… please…"
Seth stared at her. His cheeks were flushed, but he stared only at her distraught, almost wild eyes, and when her knees trembled from exhaustion, he caught her before she fell. He was exceedingly careful as he lifted her in his arms and carried her from the cell, towards the familiar voices and sounds of fighting from the higher floors. Eirika curled into his grasp, unaware now of her nudity except where it comforted her, with his warm arms cradling her shoulders and the crook of her knees. She could so easily sleep, disappear, forget everything… but Seth's touch anchored her to reality. His anxious, comforting words reminded her of love and hope, and so her eyes would not close; they could only cry.
