White light envelopes me, blinding, cold, unforgiving. It felt too much like the grave and yet, I did not feel cold. Floating in white nothingness; I am alone and I am afraid. I open my eyes slowly. I squint and shield my gaze from the illuminated world around me. It hurts to move, but still I try and look about me with hope of catching the glimpse of anything that could possibly be familiar.
All I see is the expanse of white—until gold trickles around me through some ethereal means. Slowly the ground formed; a lush, verdant field springs forth and spirals beneath my feet. Flowers of all colours bloom and reach towards a now sun-lit sky.
Whatever force that had kept me suspended now gently let me onto my feet, where I collapsed to my knees. Still, I haven't taken a breath, and as I do my lungs are assaulted by seething cold. White hot agony rakes through my body with each gasp of air. The ground raced to meet my face as I dropped onto my side, heaving and struggling to even gather what was going on around me. Pain in my head, pulsing and growing far too prominent for my liking. But I lay there, my fingers curling into the dirt, and the warmth of earth against the side of my head.
Where am I? I so desperately want to speak, but as I do, a heavy force slams into my stomach and all that comes forth is a mist of crimson that sprays into the air, and hangs there. Swirling and twisting into images of the past. A second, I close my eyes, and when I opened them once more there no longer was a cloud of blood, for where it had been now stood a woman.
Long, black hair gently tossed over her right shoulder, a piercing blue gaze that seemed to bore into my very soul, and skin the same colour as mine. An outfit of red, she wore with a black sash about her waist. She stares at me with a tear-filled gaze, and she cries. It looked as if the blue of her eyes streaked down her cheek in gentle droplets that sprouted bright flowers at her feet.
She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come forth and instead, only the faint call of a siren. I closed my eyes again and covered my ears as the wailing grew louder.
A loud crack from in front of me and pain rushes through my head again. The world falls black and all I hear is the crackle of gravel near my head. To my feet, I was able to stand as my entire body was thrown forward and forced into a stiff halt before an obsidian obelisk. The entity loomed high over a world now forced into a faded color.
For a moment, I stared at the obelisk, questioning each rune that lit up red along its side. I recognized some of them. This is scary.
I tried to reach out this time, and my legs move automatically towards the first rune I see. It is cool to the touch, and radiates with some superior form of magic.
"Rebirth" it says.
Rebirth?
"That's right." A voice, familiar, comes from behind me. I turn abruptly but see nothing.
Scanning the area, there's nothing, so I slowly look back to the obelisk only to find a great shadow looming overhead.
"Rebirth." The voice says again, this time from above. So I look.
A great dragon sits above me, her magnificent wings unfurled and in her talons she clutched the obelisk as if she would fall at any second. The stone groaned beneath her weight, yet did not even look like it was going to budge. The beasts' great tail swayed precariously back and forth behind her, the spiked tip flicking in tune with a weak breeze. I only see her underbelly from this spot, and it is laden with a grand menagerie of gemstones that clung to her flesh. Her scales were just as horrible, from what I could see beyond the wicked black talons, violet in colour with an iridescent shimmer with each movement of muscle.
She is not just any kind of dragon. No, this is a high dragon. I've heard many stories of these beasts, and I suppose it really is that only in my dreams would I ever meet one such beast. The dragon angles her head towards me, and now I see her face. A terrifying maw, piercing golden eyes, and a crown of four horns decorated her proud head.
I dropped to my knees and stared up into her eyes. Swallowed, and finally seemed to be able to breathe. Ragged.
Maker, what have I gotten myself into this time? I opened my mouth to speak, but the dragon held up a talon, silencing me instantly.
Slowly, the dragon slips from the stone and stands over me, a grin upon her wicked maw.
I know this creature. I know her, she's—
"Flemeth." Says she.
"Flemeth." I repeat.
"I see you've found yourself in quite a bit of trouble, young man." Trouble? What does she mean? "And now you have found me again, and in such a short amount of time as well." Flemeth pulls me to my feet and shifts suddenly, her body goes alight and shrinks down to that of a humans form.
Before me, she stood as the old woman of the Wilds. Her hands are warm against mine and she held my hands tight. Her eyes held pity, and her expression radiated sadness. "It is such a shame you had to meet me in such a way."
"In what way?" I snapped, eyes firm to hers. "What the hell are you talking about? Where the hell am I?"
Her hand graced my jaw and I was filled with memories, and a vision of—
Denerim. The city wrought with chaos and, in the middle of the road, is a body.
"That's fucking impossible. You're-You're lying! Wh-where the hell am I!? Where the hell is this!?"
"You are in limbo, child. The crossroads to the other side."
"No, no that's impossible, I-I can't be—"
I recall the moment, slowly, as I struggle to call it forth. The vision rose before me; Brennan and I locked together, his gun pressed firm to my head. I see the magic flow through me towards my palms with my desperate command to kill him. He pulls the trigger—and my hand dropped to the ground, my body still, and the last traces of magic evaporated.
I dropped to my knees, eyes wide with disbelief, my body racked with violent tremors. Flemeth sighs impatiently.
Her arms slowly wrap around me and I leaned into her embrace, my head rested on her shoulder with violent tremors still coursing through my body.
"In light of your death, I have a proposition for you." Flemeth pulled back lifted me to my feet. "You have a mission to complete, yes? Return my amulet to Marethari of Clan Sabrae? Do this, and I will have more information for you once that rite is completed."
I gawk at her in confusion. How the hell am I supposed to do this if I'm actually dead!?
"Ah, of course," she purrs, "In exchange for your life being returned to you, you will fulfill my will, as my Champion." Her fingers touched upon the necklace on my neck and my eyes grow wide.
"I accept." I say without hesitance.
"Do you not wish to hear the terms?" Flemeth asks.
"I… Yes." I've gone into too many traps without knowing what I must do.
"You will have power beyond what you can imagine, young man," Flemeth circles me. "and upon your body I will bestow my brand. I know of your masters' own upon your wrists, and unfortunately I am not at liberty to remove them—for this, I truly apologize. You will need to find someone else to remove them for you."
"Is your brand like the Vallaslin? The Blood Writing?" I tilt my head and catch her smirking at me.
"Would you rather have something obvious upon your brow that marks you even more as a target? Or would you rather it be nothing more than a subtle marking upon—" she grabs my arm and twists it then pulled back my sleeve. The Halla tattoo I have—she smiles down at it.
"This has more meaning than just what your master has told you. And upon its brow, I shall bestow my brand, and the rest—"
"Will become runes that can amplify power and intelligence." I finish.
"Quite a smart man, it's such a shame you were under the influence of falsehoods." Her fingers trail through my hair, down the side of my head, and she held my jaw; I close my eyes in waiting. "Hurtled into the chaos you fight… and the world will shake before you… For we stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment…and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly." She kisses my forehead once again, and the waves of magic course through my veins, and I felt her mark press to my brow, and then trail off as I close my eyes.
"Thank you." I say softly, "my Lady."
Opening my eyes, she is gone. The beat of draconic wings fades off in the distance, and I am left alone. For a moment, I wonder what exactly she was talking about—
A vision flashed before my eyes:
A great city at the edge of the Waking Sea, plagued by chaos in the underbelly and up above, and yet it was all in one piece. Magnificent lights coloured the sky and buildings and it all seemed to be at peace—
The sounds came to me; cars honking, people walking and talking, the roar of a train in a subsystem…
The echo of a blaring horn startles me out of my dreams. My head bowed against my chest, and strain upon my arms, a weak groan slipped through dry lips and I blink open my eyes and squint into the darkness before me. The stale scent of water and mold hits me and I choke on the air. I'm barely standing, but my body feels like I've been hit by a semi-truck. I realize that it isn't my own limbs that are keeping me up as the sound of metal chains echoes throughout the room.
I look up.
My hands are bound together with metal cuffs attached to a metal grate overhead by iron chains. Droplets of water slide down my arms from the chain links. Blue light filters down from wherever it's coming from. I shake my head and squint. I can see, but all I can see is what the light allows me; an empty room with puddles of water and patches of moss that branch out over the concrete floor. The chains clink once again as I shift onto my feet.
Had these things not been holding me I probably would have fallen flat on my face as my own strength failed me so instead I swing forward and to the side before I decide that my wrists are still necessary. Pulling myself to my feet once again, I found that not only had my wrists been bound, but my ankles had been chained to the ground as well. Most likely to prevent me from lashing out.
The soft light below me told of one of my worst nightmares; a glyph of repression. A huge one, and no doubt from the tremor in my muscles that this thing has been sapping every ounce of magic from my body whenever I could recover mana.
As if I could do that now—Someone doesn't want me to get out this time and they're trying really hard to make this uncomfortable as the Void.
But where am I?
There's a subway nearby, I can hear the hollowed subsystem resonating with the rumble of wheels and the sound of the horn, and I feel the rumbles of the great machine as it screams by. It feels close, almost too close. From the sounds of it… I'm still in Denerim.
This is not good.
Warmth trickles between my eyes and down the bridge of my nose, and the similar sensation trails down my sides and my chest.
I'm bleeding.
Normally, I wouldn't be so anxious about my own blood; I've been stabbed many times before, but—
Wait a fucking second…
I was dead.
A breath of relief fled my lips as I remembered Flemeth—so she really did come through for me…
I'm alive.
I take a moment to collect myself then glance about the room and a small sliver of light catches my eye.
There's a door a couple of feet away from me, and from what I could see, it was one sided. Only one way in, and no way out. It's heavily reinforced with a ward carved into it to prevent magical entities from getting in or out without proper dismissal. Similar glyphs decorate around the larger one at my feet, and I felt the pull of magic draining attacking my mind.
I don't resist. I cannot resist.
None of my things are with me. I'm unarmed, in torn and bloodied clothing, and missing a good portion of my gear altogether. No doubt taken from my body when it was recovered—but that brings another question; why did they take my body? I know that they have some people who dispose of corpses in Occasus, but they've never let one stay whole for too long. Why would they just take my body and leave me chained up like a—
Each bitter breath makes me feel like I'm going to faint, and sounds from the other side of the door definitely told me where I was
This is the Compound.
Maker these binds are tight…
Every time I moved, the metal chafed against my wrists and the glyph at my feet would crackle with magical energy. The blue sparks of light were the only means of catching quick glances about the room; barren, for the most part, with moss and lichen growing on the blackened cobble walls.
From the faint sliver of light from beneath the door, I could only guess, if memory serves me right, that I'm six floors down. I've wandered the halls on numerous occasions when I found myself feeling a little on edge and was allowed to pick a victim at will. I practically knew it by the aura alone—so forgotten and broken, those hearts plagued with knowing that they'll—that they'll be forgotten and left to rot or taken to the Coliseum. The sixth floor was always my prime hunting ground.
This place… This is where the deadly enemies of Ocassus are sent to die.
Normally it'd feel like home but now… Now I can feel the weight of sorrow press upon my own heart and every shattered breath I take feels like I'm inhaling daggers of ice. The pain sends my vision fuzzy, and I sway precariously on my feet, and staggering about within the limited range I have—blue light shines below.
Agony races from the soles of my feet straight up to my head—and I scream.
The corridors next to mine suddenly break into noise, and its inhabitants screaming out for mercy—for death—for—for—
Footsteps from behind the metal door, and laughter. Echoing with the faint haunting tone of someone familiar. The footfalls halt before my cell as another cry of agony rips from my throat until I'm hoarse—and the deep gasps of breath seemed to bring out some kind of laughter from the other side.
My head slumped, chin to my chest, chest slowly rising and falling, arms aching from supporting my weight for so long. I sway gently and kept my eyes shut. If I were to be left here, then I—I submit.
Metal scrapes along the stone ground, footfalls enter the room, and metal scrapes once more, then slams shut.
Someone is in the room.
"Well, well, what have we here?"
Slowly, I raise my head—
Danarius.
He stands with authority, dressed in his finest robes with a wine glass gently clutched between his fingers. He swirls his drink playfully as he starts towards me. His lips curled into a smile and the light in his eyes… weren't there.
"You're alive." His voice a wicked purr, he stops just before me and gently tilts my head up towards his.
"Dan!" I breathed with a smile. Somehow I couldn't have been happier to see him.
His fingers trail down my throat and stop just against the side—and then I felt it—
The chill of his magic seeping through my skin—towards my mind. Lights flashed behind my gaze and I stared up at him dumbly.
Denerim—fading—the festival a joyful evening. Who were these people? That elf? That… that… red head… kinda cute…gone…
"Why am I here? I was supposed to be with you for this meeting." I said softly as he removed his hand. "Together, remember?"
My heart races and terror takes over—why am I here? I'm in prison? Why am I in prison!?
"It pains me to see you like this, pet." His hand rests over his heart, and my own sinks. "I understand that you're confused, and I understand that you might be scared."
I don't understand. What's going on!?
"I would tell you why you're here—but I will not." His smile becomes wicked, and suddenly the world shatters before me—Dan wasn't the man I thought he was.
I struggle against my binds as tears streak down my cheeks. Gritting my teeth as Danarius paced around me, uttering vile phrases in Tevene, all of which make me cringe in the worst possible way.
With each word he speaks, my heart sinks lower, and a sickening feeling rises in my stomach—and my smile fades. Is he angry with me?
Once again he approaches, and I see nothing but hatred and disgust in his eyes. His hands on my sides—tendrils of electricity course through my body and I rear back and let out a shrill scream.
His laughter fills the room.
Then all falls silent.
Iron fills my mouth, and as he turns my head back to meet, I spit right in his face. The magister recoiled, and the sharp sting of the back of his hand greets me. My attention is glued to the wall, I won't look at him. I won't—
"Look at me." He hisses.
I don't move.
"I said Look at me." His nails dig into my skin and he forces me to face him. Wiping the blood from his face, he sneers. A jolt of electric energy through my body rendered me numb—and all I saw was him.
"Have you forgotten who I am, my pet? Have you forgotten what I have done for you? It was I that saved you from that cage eleven years ago and now you must. Obey. Me." His voice that of a soft croon; his fingers gentle against my jaw, the touch so light and feathered. I look into his eyes, and my breath fails. The weight of what I had done slowly sets in, and I feel my heart break.
Dan…
My eyelids heavy and shallow breaths made their way free, this familiar sensation in my chest… It aches.
"Was it so hard to look at me, maleficus?"
Breathing fails as he circles behind me, chest to my back, his lips against my ear. A violent shudder raced down my spine and tenses upon my skin. Slowly his lips graze my jaw and I sucked in a breath.
"Answer me, pet, was it that difficult?" His grip tightens.
Fuck.
I finally swallowed away the lump in my throat, and as he returns before me, I cannot drop my gaze.
"N-no…"
"No, what?"
"No, Dominus, it was not difficult to look at you."
He looks at me expectantly, his eyes checking over my blood-covered body. I force myself to take in another breath.
"Forgive me for my insolence, dominus. It was uncouth of me to do such a thing."
I shouldn't have done that. I've made him angry. Please don't be upset with me.
His fingers are only a half inch from my face but I can feel the prickles of magic bouncing from his skin to mine. My body instinctively curls back and my head tucks against my chest. He picks my head up again, and he does it. He kisses me. His lips are dry and cracked and I can taste those expensive wines on them… I involuntarily shudder beneath his touch as cold fingers trail down my bare sides. His other hand returns to my face and knits through my beard, his thumb running across my lip. I try to pull away but he pulls my body against his.
I groan and suck in another breath of air, only to have it stolen by his lips again, his tongue pressed to mine. Aggregio pavali. I recognize that flavor. It tastes like honey—
"Does it not please you, knowing that your master loves you so, pet?" Danarius' fingers feel like ice as he caresses my jaw, a loving smile on his wicked mouth. I raised my head, exposing my throat to him, to his teeth.
"Y-yes."
"Yes, what?" The sensation of his teeth is unreal, and desirable, but not in that moment. I want him to stop. I want him to get me out of here and take me back to Tevinter with him. I shudder as each scar on my body is grazed over by his nails. His hand follows the long scar from my left pectoral all the way down beneath the hem of my jeans. I made the attempt to pull away from his touch, but his chilled hands hand already slipped below.
"Yes, what, my pet?" I had almost forgotten to answer him. He jammed his thumb into my hip and I let out a squeak.
"Y-yes, dominus, it's good to know that you still love me." The word is like acid on my tongue. I love him. But the word is foreign, now, and it's so wrong that a simple word that I had spoken to him, a word that I held so dear, now meant nothing to me.
"And?"
"And I love you, Danarius. Maker, I love you so much…"
My heart doesn't race, and my eyes do not light as I tell him. This word means nothing to me.
My master smirks, looks up, and whistles towards the grate. A mechanical whirr sounds, and I'm slowly lowered to my knees. My hands fall behind me and, with a groan; I lean forward and rest my head against the cold and forgiving stonework.
Footfalls around me finally stop once again, and my head is lifted with the toe of a boot. Slowly I look up to my master and regret fills my heart.
"Bare your arms to me." Dan says. I relent and roll my shoulders, wincing at the sting of each popping joint as I pull my arms forward and hold them up to him. Wetness streaks down my cheeks as he retrieves a key from his sleeve, kneels, and unlocks the shackles. They drop to the ground with a heavy metallic clang and, for a moment, I believed him to be setting me free.
I should have known better. Not even seconds later did he pull out a small stone, rounded at the top and flat and ridged on bottom. A runestone, an applicator, no doubt. He shows the symbol to me, and I recognize it immediately to be the same one on either of my wrists.
So I turn my wrists to him, as is protocol.
My original brands have faded beyond belief, but they were still powerful. I don't remember how long I've had these embedded into my flesh, but I do know that they're meant to suppress power.
Magical power.
His fingers trail along the multitude of scars on the underside of my arms and wrists, and his grey eyes fall shut, and the runestone glows with a ghostly blue light.
"Cry out, and I will beat you."
Swallowing, I only bow my head in acceptance.
If I had just done the job properly, I'd be at his side in Tevinter, not here. Maybe I should have come back to him when the brands started to fade. I should have told him sooner.
My heart pounds in my ears and I hear him speaking an older dialect that I can't quite make out. But I don't think I want to understand what he's saying. Icey fingers wrap around the first wrist, and the vice-like grip remains as the rune is pressed into my skin.
Searing pain races through my arm—and I grit my teeth hard, not wanting to make a single sound knowing full well that this is more 'gentle' than the punishments he'd give. I buried my head into my arm and watch as tears drop to the ground.
A soft hum and the release told me he was done—with that one.
I don't even look as he does the other one. I deserved this. I know I did.
"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
Once the pain had faded, I look up at him, staring at him. He scowls and reaches over—picking up his glass of wine between his fingers, then holds it out to me.
"Drink." He presses the rim against my lips and tilts it forward.
The liqueur is stong, but sweet, and goes down rather smoothly even though the burn of alcohol does nothing for a dry throat. Danarius settled the glass down as I swallowed and eye the remainder in his glass. I want more. I look up at him, mentally begging him for another taste.
The only taste he gives me is another kiss.
"What do you say, pet?" He speaks against my lips and my shackles are returned. The creaking of metal allowed me that moment to pull away from him just as I was hoisted back into a very awkward and uncomfortable kneeling position. Danarius vanishes from my vision for a moment, then his hands return to my body and his thigh slides between my legs.
"Thank you for your kindness, Dominus." I speak without hesitation through a moan as his mouth tucks over the side of my neck. Again my body tries to curl up, or at least tries to jump away from his touch. I'm held here fast with an ever racing heartbeat and hitching breaths for every sensation he brings. Maker, there's a knot in my stomach that's going tighter and tighter with every passing second.
My masters' knee presses firmly between my legs and I let out a shrill gasp, his rough fingers snaking their way across my skin down towards my waist, thumbs tucked into my jeans and inched the fabric down little by little.
I refused to look at him, or even move. I won't. I won't.
I will not look at him.
Eyes squeezed shut tight. He does it again, and again. Weak grunts from behind me, and from myself.
Violated. Teased. Molested.
Taken over the edge and left hanging there as he laughs.
I open my eyes.
"I have a proposition for you, pet." Dan says, running a cloth over his hand and side-stepping in front of me.
Silence.
I'm yanked back to my feet and make a pitiful squeak of pain. His thumb pressed to my lips and a sneer on his smug face, Dan holds me there, eye to eye.
"I never thought someone like you could have the power you have now. To think you were just some poor urchin boy to be sold to the highest bidder. Yet you surprise me again and again." For a moment I thought this was a bit of praise—
"You know how I hate being surprised by my property."
His… property…
Claws in my hair, yanking my head back. Another weak cry of pain came free.
"However, in light of your recent… failure."
Failure of dying, it seems.
"I've come to the decision to give you another chance, or rather, a choice."
"I've a choice, is it? What a gift you've given me."
I deserved the back hand. I really did.
"Two choices." Says he. "You become my champion and fight in the arena like the good little soldier you are, or—" the pause scares me, his eyes light with a sickening glow, the flash of cold metal caught my eye, and something is plunged into an open wound.
Panic ran throughout my body, and I instinctively twisted away from the dagger in hand, only to bury it further into my side.
Agony. Tears. Muffled screams.
"I let them do what they want to you. The people you've hurt. You know they're all wanting to take your place in rank—oh, right, the rank that I'd given you—"
"W-what?"
"What is your answer?"
The dagger pulled free and held to my throat, I see him tilt his head and sneer.
"Do I have time to decide?" I swallowed.
"No."
The blade cuts into my skin, and I take a shaken breath.
He circles me, the blade following him.
It hurts.
Maker, it hurts.
"In the arena?" I questioned, which thankfully made him stop.
Warmth trails down my neck as I thought.
To fight in the arena in my state—it'd take me months to recover enough to even be physically able to hold my own. He's had me in the arena on numerous occasions, but never as weak as I was then. I've fought. I've killed many an opponent and have remained 'champion' for years… but now he means to send me to a second death.
I hesitated too long, and my head is yanked towards his again.
"NOW, SLAVE!"
"Y-yes!" I squeaked.
"Yes, WHAT?" His breath a sharp exhale, the rage in his aura now prevalent and potent. Suffocating.
"Y-yes, dominus, I will fight for you."
If I am to die fighting, then I will die for him. Danarius is my master, and therefore I must obey him. He… owns my life.
He is my life. My world…
A rough kiss followed the twisted grin that crossed his lips, and he looks me over once more.
"You've been such a terrible little slave. So disobedient." His attitude had changed—what was he-?
"Consorting with the contacts," he tuts. "I've told you not to fuck them, haven't I? But you can't resist a pretty little Irish ass can you?"
Oh, Maker, no, Calem!
"Consider yourself lucky that that bastard is as slippery as they come."
Calem… got away? Thank the Maker.
His thumb trailed along the scar on the bridge of my nose and my body goes rigid, then numb in several places.
"Please. Let me go. Let me recover so I can properly give you a show." After him, I must follow him.
Danarius turns to leave. Not a word spoken.
"Please. Let me heal up." Desperation hangs in my voice, and my eyes go wide.
"Please, Master, I beg of you, don't leave me here like this!" He's at the door, knocking twice. I pull at my binds, repeating myself, louder and louder.
"Let me be by your side, please! I want to be with you again! PLEASE!"
The door opens, and he looks over his shoulder at me—no longer with a look that I've longed for—but with absolute disgust and absolutely no such gentle as he had…
"DANARIUS!"
He snapped his fingers, and the floor below me lit up, and as the door slams shut, a torrent of lightning rakes through my body—and everything goes dark.
For hours I slip in and out of consciousness; when I'd wake, the glyph at my feet would drain me of all restored mana, then rend me out cold again. Only once had I managed to stay conscious through a jolt of electricity, wondering how exactly I was still alive throughout the whole thing. Squinting into the darkness, there's no longer any light from the door, and it's uncomfortably silent. The blue hue above me has gone out as well. I'm in total darkness.
My body twitched involuntarily and I whined in protest against it. Each ragged breath I took hurt my lungs. And each time I heard a noise—my master would have returned.
Ravishing came between us multiple times; on my knees to satisfy him. And I would do so without question. He'd have me pinned to the ground and would sate himself that way, but I was not allowed to make a sound.
Once he had pulled my shirt over my shoulders with my back exposed to him—and that was when I'd feel the sting of a whip against my bare skin.
"First you disobey direct orders." said he, striking once more, "Then you soil your disgusting little figure with more tattoos without my permission. You seem to have forgotten that I own you. That your body is my property to do with as I wish."
His property.
"You are nothing more than a slave, and a pawn of higher power. Do you understand me?"
I'm a slave.
"I… yes… Dominus."
Bought and paid for.
I've tried so hard to pretend that my life was my own; I've known for eleven long years that I was never a free man. I've lied to myself constantly into believing I was able to be normal.
I'm worthless. Yet he trained me to be strong—to be powerful like him! My life, this way I've been living, it had only been a farce for my obedience…
And he had my utmost loyalty. I stared with longing, our eyes locked. Tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I love you." My voice cracked, and slowly my head slumped forward, chin to my chest.
"I think you'll be a wonderful little toy for our future champion." Two more times, the whip cracked against my body, and two more times did I let out the pitiful cries of mercy.
He departs quickly, leaving me there alone in the dark once more.
Crying was difficult. To hold it back and ignore the bubbling emotions was easy, I've trained myself to do so, but as soon as that dam breaks and everything comes flooding through.
Dan is just kidding—he loves me—that's the only truth of it. He's just—he's only teasing and he'll be back for me. Everything will be fine. Everything will be—everything—
My own voice captured itself in my throat—a cage locked to the brim with—
The revelation that I've denied for too long slamming into me like a freight train.
An abhorrent scream loosed from my strained throat, and echoed around me. My tears fell freely, unhindered despite attempts to quell the flow.
I cried until my chest hurt.
I cried until I felt I would suffocate on my own breath.
I cried until exhaustion took me out.
