SONG INSPIRATION: The Last of Her Kind - Peter Gundry /o/ Ritual - Hexperos
CHAPTER WARNINGS: described execution, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, profanity, sexy dreams & masturbation tease
A/N: This story is such a 1980s Gothic twist on the original tale. With plenty of teasing and slow burn smut, of course. You're welcome. Oh and just for the sake of satisfying my own whims, all the men will have long pretty hair. Except Snoke, obviously.
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"So I ask you once and I ask you again,
Where do your roots start and where do your roots end?"
- Roots / In This Moment
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SPELLBOUND
CHAPTER I: FIGMENTS OF DESIRE
~ - . O . - ~
10 YEARS LATER
o ~ o
Her legs pumped wildly beneath her and her lungs ached with exhilaration as wind whistled passed, throwing about her ivory mane like a banner. Over serrated rocks and scorched earth she hastened, the colorless sun above her trapped behind a poisonous band of smog hung low in the sky. And there, nestled upon the jagged horizon—a waxing crescent.
It manifested through the gloom, growing round and pregnant as the Mother Goddess.
An immediate and pressing need drove her to look straight ahead, seeking something. It thrummed through her veins like the catch of fire and she felt her heart leap in anticipation.
Yonder through the cut of a sharp ravine, she could see the churning tides of an ocean surrounding what appeared to be a dark castle. It squatted at the sheer cliff edge like a petulant gargoyle. Colossal walls, black, spiny towers reaching ever skyward, countless bodies glistening white with heavy armor and a blood-colored standard at their back, draped over the rough stone entrance.
She felt drawn, but not to the castle. No. Something off to the right.
A figure standing at a sharp bend in the cliff. He was turned away, facing the sea. Her chest swelled at the sight of him.
I know him, she thought.
She quickened her speed, realizing faintly that the cadence of her gallop felt strange and the angle of her body was wrong. She wondered at these abnormalities, eyes drifting downward to—
The ground suddenly convulsed violently and split open beneath her with a low, terrifying roar. Skeletons of trees tipped into the chasm and rocks rolled beneath her. The world dipped, swayed and she leaped, never once taking her eyes off of the lone figure. Her muscles coiled and stretched, burning with exertion as she sailed across the precipice.
He turned in that instant, a flurry of cimmerian shadows cut into the smooth lines of a cape and a tall, regal body. Her heart stilled in her chest as she studied him. That pale face, those velvet eyes. They were as dark as the rest of him, fathomless, yet so utterly... broken.
He was human, but by the gods, what had been done to him?
So caught up in his gaze she was that she neglected to brace herself for a safe landing. The ground greeted her without remorse and she toppled forward, scuffing her chin against the abrasive sand as lightning lit up the sky. Why had her front legs not caught her?
Thunder drummed, a chaotic boom of music resonating up through the earth.
She lifted her eyes.
The dark figure stood no more than ten paces from her, all his edges abruptly outlined in razor-sharpness. They glinted like serrated glass; whipping, twisting, tangling. Like smoke.
He tilted his head inquisitively as she gaped at him, light and shadow casting his expression in harsh angles. She noted the curious pattern of beauty moles that allowed his face a youthfulness his stare lacked.
Who are you? she almost said aloud, lips forming around the words.
He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was lost over the building storm. His arm lifted, palm up-turned, and her gaze widened as he reached for her. The gesture invited a puzzling hunger deep inside of her, somewhere below her navel that spread up into her chest. It ran so profound and so fierce, she felt her body propel upward without her consent.
She reached back—
—and the rational seat of her brain suddenly registered the core reason why her body felt wrong.
A human hand, connected to a human arm, connected to a svelte human body. Bare human feet.
Human.
At once, prideful anger exploded in her veins and she jerked backward, her expression contorted with outrage. She was no human girl! She was a unicorn!
A unicorn!
Instantly, the dream shattered, a beautiful prism of thousands of colored shards, but not before she saw the ghostly, crooked fingers of a third hand falling over the man's eyes and a fourth grasping his shoulder in a vice-like grip.
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o ~ o
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Rey had dreamed.
When was it last she dreamed?
The eve of the new moon, the night her forest had felt its first winter's kiss.
She looked out over the meadow where she rested, a flock of blackbirds flitting through the tall grass for insects and other food. Overhead, a falcon screeched at a mockingbird swooping down for an attack, the small aggressor hissing its raspy profanities. In the distance, a squirrel teetered irritably at a young bear down near the river splashing around for fish.
Rey surveyed all of this with peaceful eyes, chin high.
It was the night she had chased that demon from her wood, the stygian monster with the fiery sword and his hideous companions. They followed behind him swiftly after their defeat, wounded—a mercy she would not be affording such obscenities again should they step foot into her home—and thankfully taking that awful snow with them.
Only this dream was more visceral, and she had been human. Human!
The memory of it boils her blood and she surges up, her cloven hooves beating at the ground and her tail snapping like a whip. The mere thought of her trapped in such a temporary vessel disgusted her. She was a unicorn, an immortal being of sunlight and moonlight, starlight and creation. She was a harbinger of new worlds and old. No human alive could count all the suns and moons she has outlived.
Still, she was wise enough to know the importance of dreams.
And that alone terrified her.
A sound suddenly caught her attention and her ears pricked toward the pine grove at the south end of the meadow. Barking.
She sniffed at the air. Leather, horse sweat and the territorial musk of dog marking.
Hunters!
The animals acted swiftly, taking to the thicket and huddling in hidden places.
Rey dashed for the treeline without a second thought, the instinct to protect her forest overriding her fear. The low-hanging limbs cut at her face, but she ignored them. Her movements were light and nearly inaudible with the raucous noise of the canines as she skidded down a ravine and circled back through the grove until she was behind them.
Two men, one old and haggard and the other young. Not quite fresh, but still nimble on his feet. Three bloodhounds circled enthusiastically around them and Rey made sure to keep to the thicker trees, watching the troop from between the draping moss of old oak limbs.
"I miss the feel of forests like this." the old man sighed, face bunched up in a happy smile. "Creatures who live in a unicorn's forest learn a little magic of their own in time."
"Unicorns? I thought they were a myth." the younger man scoffed, his russet hair tossing over his shoulder as he turned. His horse whinnied excitedly and he patted its neck. He continued on with an air of unease. "This is a forest like any other, is it not?"
The old man's smile grew. "It is the time of harvest. The last moon of the summer is waning, yet here the tulips and hyacinths are fresh in bloom. Notice not a single flower wilts. And why have the leaves not fallen from the trees? They are yet green." His eyes grew distant with longing. "I tell you there is one unicorn left in the world and, as long as it lives in this forest, we will no game to hunt."
The other man shifted his horse by the reins. "Let us turn around then, hunt somewhere else."
"As you wish, my son."
Rey looked after them, her mind caught in a loop of a single phrase: one unicorn left in the world. The gravity of it unsettled her. Such a thing was impossible.
Near the edge of the wood, the old man turned on his horse. "Stay where you are, precious beast!" he shouted. "This is no world for you! Stay in your forest and keep it forever young, keep it protected, and good luck to you, for you are the last!"
o ~ o
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~ - . O . - ~
o ~ o
A clean slice.
The sword sang in his grip as a man's head smacked against the stone floor of the atrium in a clot of blood and rolled away, a frozen mask of defiance. His own expression remained concealed within an ebony helm of cold, scarred metal. Shoulders were rigid. Lungs forgone of breath. The only evidence of humanness in him was the subtle clenching of his fingers around the hilt of the weapon.
"Let this be a lesson to the rest of you!" a voice asserted from behind him. "You serve under King Snoke. You carry the First Order banner! Carry it with pride for your king!"
General Armitage Hux, leader of the First Order's army, bastard son of Brendol Hux and ever present thorn in his royal backside.
And... rumor has it, a son who plotted the successful murder of his very father. The dark figure cut his eyes back at his rival, glare hidden beneath the helm's visor. It was a commonality both shared, he supposed, but regardless a thing he did not wish to hold in common with such a vile cur.
Sheathing his sword he turned to leave, a sea of down-turned faces parting for him. Hazy moonlight shone through the glass of the atrium ceiling, casting the world around him in a milky radiance. His heavy boots thumped with an icy finality as he made his way down the steps to the sprawling entrance hall.
"I've some things I desire to discuss with you, Lord Ren." the general said as he walked up beside him, his insufferable ginger hair tied back in a low ponytail.
Kylo kept his face forward, the moon's rays playing off the silver lines of his helm. "I'm afraid it will have to wait, general. I've more pressing matters."
A sneer ghosted across the general's face, though not fast enough for Kylo to miss. He wondered at it, aggravation flaring in him.
"Ah yes, the king desires audience with you." Hux spoke quietly, as if uttering a secret. "Such a pity to hear of your failure to capture the Hosnian colonies."
"I saw no need for useless death." Kylo all but snapped. "What good is a kingdom if there are no people left to rule?"
Why was he arguing straightforward practicalities with this warmonger? The only honor this man knew was the poisoned tip of a clandestine blade driven into the back of an unsuspecting opponent.
"Rebel scum." the general replied simply.
Kylo whirled on him abruptly and used his few inches of height advantage to tower over him. "Should I alert our king to your failure of maintaining Niima Outpost, which inevitably aided in my failure of the Hosnian colonies? It would only be prudent, wouldn't you agree, general?"
Hux's mouth snapped shut, blue eyes flaring... and quickly dying.
Let him think on that, Kylo mused. Let him remember that one who holds another's secrets holds more power than any army.
Kylo left him with the sweep of his long cape, the other man glowering hatefully at his back.
He moved through the courtyard, over the causeway of the river circling his king's castle and finally up through the twisted, leaning tower to his master's chamber. It was massive, reaching up into the roiling sky with fellow spires like so many gnarled talons seeking to strangle the unseen stars above.
Lightning struck one of the spires in a brilliant flash of light as Kylo passed a tall arch-shaped window, the explosion of radiance casting his shadow as a tattered wraith on the opposite wall. It hurried with him, angled forward in a predatory lope.
Two sentinels stood at the end of the corridor, each at either side of solid, intricately cut double doors. They were spindly gatherings of stick limbs draped in plume-colored robes with three round yellow eyes, one grand eye set above a pair of smaller eyes, which glowed from a black hollow where their faces should have been. Their hoods dragged over their shoulders like sagging jowls and a frightening arrangement of mandibles protruded down below their thin necks. All shiny bone and teeth.
Kylo stared at them. Waited.
The left sentinel reached out, exposing her gaunt wrist, her knotted three-fingered hand. Then, the other followed.
The massive doors swung open with a seductive whine and a bellow of smoke-sweet air wafted passed him. Opium incense. He inhaled it deeply as it permeated up through his helm, making him suddenly heady with animal rancor.
Lighting struck again, electrifying the air.
He promptly steadied himself, scarcely lifting his shoulders as he took in another breath, drawing all the primal impulses back into his lower consciousness. Shackling them there.
Presently, the right sentinel waved him onward, her silk robes hissing with the movement.
Kylo proceeded forward in his wide gait, suppressing the urge to shiver as he crossed the threshold and stepped into the chamber. The room felt cold, but not as one would expect. This cold was not a frigid gust or a winter's chill. This kind of cold sapped the spirit, much how a vampire drinks the blood of a mortal. There were times Kylo even felt the room seem to expand, growing fat on his soul essence... like a leech.
His boots drummed tonelessly on the black marble floor as he approached the throne. He knelt twenty paces away, never once glancing up at the silhouette ahead of him.
"Your blade is still wet, my apprentice." a basso voice murmured. "I can smell it."
Kylo remained silent.
The room grew colder.
He was abruptly reminded of the dream which had haunted him for the past month. Snow in the middle of spring. A battle. A loss.
The scar along his face itched and he hastily squashed the train of thought, draping the recent images of the execution over his consciousness.
"You did not desire to kill such a fine soldier." the voice continued, but there had been a pause. Even in the silence, Kylo had sensed it.
"It is the unfortunate consequence of ruling. One must uphold the balance of order from those who would see chaos reign. The system must be protected against any who would see it destroyed."
Kylo's head bowed lower in answer.
Another long pause.
The rustle of rough fabric.
Kylo felt the silhouette rise, felt the room ripple with his master's movements, and he held perfectly still.
"Your lack of hesitation in this instance would have served me better with the Hosnian colonies." The voice moved closer with each word until it was directly over him. "Remnants of the Republic have no place in my realm, Kylo Ren."
"Begging forgiveness, master. I thought only of your rule." Kylo whispered carefully.
"Did you, my apprentice?"
Kylo's fingers curled in on themselves, the material of his gloves squeezing against his skin. "You know I cannot conceal a lie from you, master."
Phantom fingertips needled along the back of his neck, testing him. Cold. So cold.
"Yes," Snoke purred. "So speak not with a liar's tongue."
The needling fingers nestled at the nape of his neck just below the base of his skull.
Kylo couldn't retain a shudder. He dared not look up to see if the king were actually touching him. He dared not move.
Snoke prolonged the silence, before at last, he spoke. "Why did you fail?"
Kylo considered his response delicately. The question was a trap, a deadly trap with countless pitfalls. Even his hesitation could betray him. Was there any answer that could be his escape?
"Master, I thought only of your realm, of our efforts to bring order. There are individuals within the Hosnian colonies that are trusted, beloved by the people. The Resistance is gaining ground in the far north. I felt it unwise to kill ones who could become allies... with the correct amount of pressure applied."
It was the truth, though told with much less compassion than Kylo felt. He could never utter this to Snoke and, by the gods, he hoped his master did not feel it kindling deep in the chambers of his heart. As desperately as he had tried to snuff out this emotion, it only seemed to grow beneath his shadows, sprouting veins, attaching in inconvenient places and holding fast.
Kylo felt the sudden pressure of a real hand resting on the crown of his helm. "Young fool. Young stupid, arrogant fool."
His muscles froze, anticipating the next set of events.
"And here I thought you had more prowess than that."
The words stung.
Snoke's hand drifted along Kylo's helm until his long fingers curled under Kylo's chin, drawing his face upward.
Nothing could hide his gaze from his master's in that moment. He was laid bare.
Sinister power radiated from those twisted fingers. "No amount of pressure can make them bend to our favor."
Kylo felt a lesson at the end of this conversation and it was closing fast.
"They are feral animals delighting in their democracy. Democracy brings chaos. You know this, Kylo Ren." Snoke all but snarled his name.
Kylo swallowed.
The silence grew painful now.
"The real reason behind your failure couldn't have been because of your mother, could it?"
Kylo's extremities went numb and it took everything in his power to keep his breathing steady. He desired to contest his master, but the air around him warned such a thing would be unwise.
"She was with the Hosnian leaders the day of your attack, was she not?"
This question he must answer.
"Yes." He drained all emotion from his voice, keeping his chin steady in the cradle of Snoke's fingers.
The darkness of the room shifted then, the light of an overhead chandelier brightening, illuminating his master in a sickly yellow glow. Shadow still clung to the deep seams of his face, scars and withered flesh bunched together in an expression of pure cunning. The deep hollows of his eyes reflected like mirrors out to Kylo, beckoning him and he resisted the urge to avert his gaze.
Snoke would feel it.
"Why is she not dead, my apprentice?"
Kylo's shoulders exposed him and he pushed ahead quickly. "An unforeseen anomaly, master. I captured a spy. The rumors are true. Luke Skywalker was witnessed—
A shock of agony whipped up Kylo's spine with an abrupt snap and he crumpled, muscles seizing. He would have fallen to the floor if not for Snoke's steel grip under his helm. He bit savagely into his lower lip, panting raggedly.
"Should I believe you still harbor emotions for the woman who brought you into this world?" Snoke inquired dispassionately, pale eyes glinting.
Like silver-plated glass, Kylo thought offhandedly.
"Should I suspect, Kylo Ren, that your heart will betray me?"
"Never." Kylo wheezed, his usually dulcet tone strangled into a rasping growl.
"Perhaps that is why you executed the Rebel spy so quickly." Snoke surmised. "You sought to dampen my suspicions."
Blood sapped from Kylo's face.
He knew! Of course he knew.
Kylo opened his mouth to speak, but a ball of barbs manifested in his throat, poking and grating at his flesh. He choked; tasted blood.
"And yet, you desired to let the soldier live. Your actions are concerning."
The sensation tripled, ripping at his esophagus like a wild demon.
"Doubly concerning is General Hux's apparent ignorance on the matter." Snoke sighed. "All the same, I would suggest, my young apprentice, you not rouse my suspicions further."
"Yes." The word left Kylo's mouth a muddled groan and Snoke dropped his hand.
Kylo fell to the marble floor in a gulping heap, the cluster of thorns no longer blocking his throat, but his flesh raw all the same. He swallowed the blood, letting the coolness of the air ease a little of the pain.
"I have offered you much, Kylo Ren. You would be irresponsible to betray me." Snoke paused. "After all, is it not I who have trusted you? Is it not I who accepted your talents as exactly what they are—talents?"
Kylo lifted back into his kneeling position.
"Is this how you reward my generosity? With suspicion?"
"Twas never my intention, master." Kylo replied huskily. "Please, forgive me."
Snoke was silent as thunder roared around them. It rolled into the distance like turbulent war drums.
Then, he placed a gentle hand on Kylo's shoulder. "Your heart is still true." he whispered, a hidden smile on his face.
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o ~ o
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Hands curled around his neck from behind him. Lips soft.
He turned, but no one was there.
"My dark prince." a voice hummed against his ear. "I don't want to remember it. Any of it."
He leaned into the warm softness of an embrace, svelte arms trapping him in the scent of spring.
"Everything dies." the voice came again, a moist press of a mouth along his shoulder.
He reached for those arms, snaking his hands up into wild flowing hair. Like spun silk.
Fingertips whispered across the nape of his neck as his own locks was swept aside. A tender kiss.
"I want to die when you die."
Kylo awoke with a start, a sheen of sweat covering his bare skin. He kicked the blankets aside and rose with a sharp exhale of breath, strands of ebony hair plastered to his forehead.
His chamber window revealed a squall of brutal winds and heavy rain. Violent drops pelted the windowpane before cascading downward in blurred, cumbersome sheets.
He ran an aggravated hand through his hair, tangling it further.
Usually after these dreams he would mount his horse and ride until sunrise, until the scent of her was gone with the night and the chill had cooled his loins, but this night the hard ache of his cock taunted him and the booming thunder dared him to seek release. Its echoes made him think of untamed moments between the trees, a glint of moonlight hair, a tease of supple skin.
What did it matter? his mind snarled. This woman inhabiting his dreams was not real. She was a fallacy! A figment of my desires and nothing more!
Something tickled his skin along the line of his scar, up from his chest, following the dark mark to his cheek. He closed his eyes and saw long, lovely legs. They moved with the grace of a gazelle as she ran, darting through the grove. Naked. Carefree.
She was like a dance of pure light.
A moan escaped his lips as he felt his hand close unconsciously around his length, pumping once, twice.
He was thrown back into a strange world of snow and spring flowers, colors so rich they hurt his eyes and a sky so vast with stars he could only think himself lost in a sea of diamonds. She lay in a bed of grass just beyond his reach. He tried to focus on her, but she was surrounded by a spectral mist.
He reached with his mind, wanting to see her. Needing to see her.
A growl ripped from his throat as he pumped a third time, hard, and he abruptly jerked his hand away, punching the wall beside him. Rage and frustration surged up from the pit of his stomach and he pulled his knuckles back, staring at the broken flesh.
Distractions. That was all these dreams were. Fantasies he dwelled upon in the lonely hours of the night. They were unnecessary. More than that, they were fast becoming a liability. His goal could not be hindered by such capricious impulses.
Presently, the memory of the harpy stalked into his foremind, her forest eyes glinting devilishly at him as she sat atop her stone perch, tanned skin warm with sunlight and chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders.
"A pity she will taste you and not I." she murmured, much as she did the day she changed his life forever.
Kylo forced his hands to his sides, glaring back out the window. Making up his mind, he dressed quickly and proceeded down to the stables. The rain clinked off the metal of his helm, the wind whipped his cape and lightning blanketed the sky in a deadly web of white fire. His ride waited at the end of the stables, a wild steed who carried more than a little hint of madness in its eyes. Kylo approached him calmly, pausing as the beast threw his head about, dancing erratically and flaring his nostrils.
The storm summoned his rage, too.
Kylo smirked at that.
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