Warning :- graphic violence ahead...
Chapter Thirteen
The king stared at the empty chair's beside him where Ophelia and Dwayne sat only yesterday, his best friend wearing an amused smirk while his love's face was alight with mischief. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, the backs of his eyes throbbing from lack of sleep and the constant influx of stomach churning thoughts of what his queen was going through. "Laurent," he called out, his head hitting the back of his chair with a weary thud.
"Yes your majesty?" Laurent strolled into the dining hall, his eyes drifting to the empty seats at the table.
"Bring me a decanter of blood and please apologise to the kitchen staff but I have no appetite," he palmed his forehead, gesturing to the table full of food.
"Yes sire," Laurent nodded with a bow, retreating from the room.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" Marko broke the stifling silence around the table, his expression concerned.
"No," David admitted, resting his cheek on his fist.
"Me neither," Paul frowned and David noted the haunted look in his pale blue eyes. Paul's brows furrowed as he toyed with the corner of the table cloth, looking as though he wanted to say something but seemed to be struggling with whatever it was.
"What is it Paul?" David asked, nodding in thanks as Laurent set a decanter of blood and three glasses on the table in front of him.
"Nothing," he averted his eyes, rubbing his jaw, before he sighed heavily, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I just don't know what to do man, she's like my little sister and knowing what that son of a bitch is doing to her is-"
"-What do you mean, knowing what he's doing to her?" David stared at the wild haired blonde, swallowing a mouthful of blood.
"Do you know something Paul?" Marko interjected, studying his close friends face. "You do, you know something, what is it?" Marko shook Paul's shoulder.
"I don't want to tell you-" Paul covered his face in his hands, his voice strained, "-we just need to get her out of there…"
David's stomach dropped to his knees, threatening to eject the glass of blood he'd just drained. "Paul I demand that you tell me what you know and how the hell you know anything in the first place," the king ordered authoritatively.
"I saw her OK? I saw her in Ellie's crystals. He's hurting her man, like seriously fucking hurting her," Paul buried his head in his arms, his voice muffled by the table cloth.
"How is he hurting her?" Marko pressed and David wasn't so sure that he wanted to know, it was enough knowing that she was being tortured, let alone the details of it.
Paul omitted a strangled groan, retreating further into his arms. David had never seen him act this way, he must genuinely care about Ophelia for him to be so affected. David dragged his hands down his face. Who wouldn't care about such a kind-hearted, impish spirited beautiful woman?
"He'd paralyzed her with magic, so she was pinned to the floor and he was whipping the shit out of her with a belt buckle, her legs and feet were shredded, her face was all busted and she was-" he swallowed, "-naked…"
A guttural growl ripped from the king's chest and in a fit of despairing rage he launched the glass in his hand across the hall where it exploded against the wall, sending a cascade of splintered glass into the air, the shattered remnants littering the floor. "Where is Ellie?" David demanded.
"Most likely the servants quarters your majesty," Marko replied, running a hand through his hair.
"Ellie!" he barked and the timid fae appeared moments later, her eyes circled with purple bruises from lack of sleep, her pallor sickly white.
"Yes your majesty?" her voice quivered, her eyes drifting to Paul who was looking back at her apologetically.
"Show me Ophelia," David commanded. He needed to know she was still alive, he needed to know that all hope wasn't lost.
"But your highness I-"
"-I gave you an order dammit," he roared, slamming his fist against the table-top. "Do you dare defy me? Do you wish to spend the rest of your days in the dungeon?"
"N-no," Ellie shook her head, biting her lip as she tried to stifle her tears.
"Then do ask I ask!" he hissed.
A feeling of dread washed over him as he watched Ellie conjure one of the very same opal white crystals he'd seen on many occasions, only this time, the milky white centre swirled with wisps of lilac until the glass sphere darkened completely and the image of a dark room presented itself. David took the crystal in shaking hands, his legs giving out as he slumped back into his chair. The crystal showed Ophelia lying naked on a dirt floor, blood staining the stone surface around where she lay. Her face and body were battered, her unblemished alabaster flesh now torn and covered in vivid bruises. She looked to be unconscious, her chest slowly rising and falling with every shallow breath. "Ophelia…" he whispered, feeling the crystal slip from his fingers, vanishing into the ether before it hit the floor.
"Is she still alive sire?" Marko asked his tone cautious.
"Yes-" David croaked, "-excuse me…" he cleared his throat, striding out of the room. The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut behind him as his back hit the stone wall and he sank to the floor, fisting his hair as he buried his face in his knees, feeling tears of hopelessness leak from his tired eyes.
"Your majesty, are you OK?" Ezra's familiar voice disrupted his mental break and he slowly pushed himself to his feet, running a trembling hand through his hair.
"I'm fine-" David deadpanned, "-I need you and the guard to look through the old battle plans for when my father declared war on the Goblin Kingdom, I need to know how they got past the wards," he instructed just as Marko and Paul stepped out into the corridor, their expressions ones of concern.
"You two, go with Ezra, I need all eyes and hands on deck – I'll be in the infirmary awaiting the results of your findings," the king exclaimed, turning his back on the three worried guards.
Ophelia awoke to the sound of a door slamming and for a brief moment, she was overcome with panic, that was until she realised it hadn't been the door to the dungeon after all. She was still surrounded by relative darkness, with the only light coming from the slow burning torch by the door.
She whimpered when her sleep drunk mind finally registered the pain. Her face ached and she was unable to breathe through her nose due to her swollen sinuses. Her wrists were covered in vivid shades of violet left in the wake of the Goblin King's unforgiving restraining technique. Her legs were stiff from the lashes and when she tried to stretch the muscles, the skin pulled and a sharp sting was followed by the feeling of something wet trickling down her calves while between her legs burned from the vicious assault of Jareth's fingers. The soles of her feet stung and ached incessantly while her toes cramped. Her breath hitched and she wept in misery, the ice-cold tendrils of fear once again taking a hold on her insides, tying her stomach in painful knots.
The only slither of hope that stopped her from becoming completely hysterical was the hope that somehow David would be able to get to her. Ophelia knew that Jareth would likely have locked the castle down with his magic but she prayed that somehow, her king would find a way through it. Her train of thought took her to thoughts of Dwayne and she prayed that he'd survived, she prayed that the dagger hadn't pierced his heart to the extent that there was no coming back from it, she couldn't bare the thought that he'd died for her sake. On top of that, knowing now how deep their bond was, she knew that Dwayne's death would destroy David there was no doubt about it.
Ophelia sobbed, resting her head against the cold stone floor as she stared at the limp rusting chain hanging from the ceiling when a spark of an idea began to grow in her fogged mind. The fae answered the call to their name, of that she knew from her time spent with Ellie and the countless stories she'd read. Could she still call for Ellie and she'd come? If she could get Ellie here, then Ellie could maybe do what Jareth did and teleport her back to the palace. A wave of hope flooded through her battered body and she closed her eyes, willing her voice to work. "Ellie," she whispered, her eyes fluttering open to find the room still empty.
"Ellie?" she tried again, the flicker of hope she'd only moments ago had extinguishing when still, nothing happened.
"No…" she sobbed, her tears pooling beneath her bruised cheek.
"Paul," Ellie sprinted into Paul's chambers, finding him sat crossed legged in the middle of his bed surrounded by old, dog-eared parchment.
"What?" he frowned, hopping to his feet.
"Ophelia, she's calling for me-" the pretty fae cried, brushing the tears from her eyes, "-but I can't get to her, the Goblin King's got his castle warded against intruders and the second the wards sense I don't belong there, I'm blocked and sent back," she flustered, her hands shaking.
"Shit," Paul hissed, running his hands through his hair. "Hold up," he stated, his eyes widening in realisation.
"What is it?" Ellie frowned, searching his face.
"We need to find someone who can get past the wards, someone on the inside. Do you know anyone under the Goblin King's charge? Anyone who isn't afraid to break the rules or maybe someone that can't stand the dick and wants out?" Paul urged, gripping Ellie's shoulders.
"I only know the girls that escaped here, the wards would see them as intruders now," Ellie exhaled, stressed. "Wait-" her eyes brightened, "-I can ask them, they should know how it works there, they should know if there's anyone that could help."
"Yes-" Paul sighed triumphantly, surprising her with a hard kiss to the lips, "-but Elle, this stays between us yeah? Those chicks need to swear an oath of secrecy. If too many people know about this, it could all turn to shit and this could be the best plan we have because trying to find another way past those wards is practically impossible - trust me I've been trying to find it for the past two hours," he gestured to the bed scattered with parchment.
"OK, you keep looking and I'll see what I can find out," Ellie nodded, her stomach fluttering when Paul drew her into his arms, embracing her affectionately.
"Keep me updated angel-face," he murmured, softly kissing her cheek.
"I will," Ellie blushed, making her way back to the servants quarters.
David sat by Dwayne's bed in the infirmary, a bottle of blood swinging loosely from his fingers as he stared blankly at the wall, his eyes drifting absentmindedly over the plethora of potions and antidotes, his mind elsewhere. "Do you remember that time when we were around ten and we'd had a fight because you'd drawn that cartoon and when you'd shown it to me, me and Drake made fun of it?-" David's lips quirked up in a nostalgic smile, "-you stormed out, declaring that we were both assholes and set up camp in the palace gardens for the rest of the afternoon, pouting," the king chuckled, taking a swig of blood.
"Do you remember what happened when I came to speak to you? You were stood facing the fountain, brooding no doubt and whenever I tried to talk to you, you'd just completely ignore me. I remember getting really frustrated by your lack of response and shoved you face first in the fountain," David laughed, shaking his head in amusement.
"You never did like to be ignored," a croaky voice responded and David almost leapt out of his seat.
"Dwayne," his shoulders sagged in relief, immediately pulling his best friend into a desperate embrace. Dwayne returned the king's affections, albeit weakly and David's vision started to blur with tears. "You scared me you son of a bitch," David exhaled shakily, pulling back.
"Call it payback for almost drowning me in that fountain," Dwayne smiled meekly and David huffed a laugh.
"How do you feel?"
"Like shit," Dwayne grimaced, palming his forehead.
David pressed the bottle of blood to Dwayne's lips. "Drink," he urged and Dwayne gratefully accepted the bottle, draining its contents in one breath. An oppressive silence fell over the two close friends, the weight of the situation bearing heavy on both their shoulders.
"David, I'm so sorry," Dwayne was the first of them to break the silence, his expressive brown eyes flashing with hurt and self-loathing.
"You have nothing to be sorry for Dwayne."
"Yes I do, I failed to protect Ophelia and I failed to protect Jeremiah – I let you down in the worst way," he countered, rubbing his eyes as his breath hitched. "It's my fault," he whispered, his voice thick with pent up emotion.
"Brother stop. I do not blame you in anyway, it is not your fault – you did what you were trained to do. If it was me, I would have likely gotten her killed because I wouldn't have been able to control myself. You and Ezra, you both did what you could to preserve her life, you almost died Dwayne, is that not enough? Why must you take the blame on yourself too."
"Do you have any word on her? Has that rat made any demands?" Dwayne hauled himself upright with a grimace, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
"No, he's not made any contact and I very much doubt that he will until I make the first move-" David sighed, "-I saw her Dwayne…" he hung his head, bracing his hands on his knees.
"What? How?"
"Ellie's crystals... He's hurting her Dwayne but I have no way of getting to her, Solomon tried but the bastards warded the place, it's impenetrable. I've got the guards looking into how my father and his men were able to get past the wards during the war, other than that, I have no idea what I can do, I don't have the damn abilities. If it was any other kingdom, I'd storm it but if I do that with him, we wouldn't get very far and he'd likely just kill her just to spite me – I don't want her to be put through more torture just because I can't hold my temper."
"I'm surprised you're not tearing this palace apart with rage," Dwayne frowned.
"I'm angry, I'm so damn angry but the hurt and sorrow is bringing me to my knees Dwayne. All I can feel is pain, the anger comes and goes in bursts and I find myself snapping but for the majority of the time I just feel hopeless and lost," David locked eyes with his closest confidant. "I can't lose her Dwayne, if I lose her then I'm done, the whole Underworld will turn to shit because I won't have the strength to carry on – I didn't ask for this life Dwayne, if given a choice, I'd rescind my crown but unfortunately I have no heir to pass it on to."
"We'll get her back David, she's stronger than she looks, he won't break her-" Dwayne murmured, wrapping his arm around the kings slumped shoulders, "-and by the way, you're a fucking great king, so quit talking such shit you big, blonde pain in the ass."
David huffed a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "You've always been jealous of my hair," he smirked and Dwayne chuckled, weakly ruffling the king's tousled locks.
Ophelia had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours, waiting with bated breath for the next onslaught of beatings but they never came. The waiting and the pain were enough to drive her to the brink of insanity. Every slam of a door and every thud from around her made her heart hammer and her body tremble, but still, the Goblin King didn't return. Her bones ached from not only the beating she'd received but from lying on the hard, cold stone floor.
She had no idea what time it was when the door to the dungeon finally swung open and the barely lit torch by the door was replaced, the replacement's flame burning bright, casting the room in a muted yellow light. Ophelia craned her neck, tracking Jareth's movements as he sauntered into the room, crouching by her head. "How are we today precious?" he grinned wickedly.
"What do you want from me Jareth?" Ophelia croaked, wincing when the movement of her lips irritated her injuries.
"Well for a start I want you to address me by my deserved title, I am the king, you do not have the permission nor the right to call me by name-" he sneered, "-aside from that, I want you to relinquish your ties with the high king and accept me as your king – just think of it Ophelia, you'll be the Goblin Queen, one of your most revered fantasies actually coming to fruition," he crooned, tracing a lazy circle over her breast with his finger.
Ophelia noticed he wasn't wearing gloves, finding his nails were unnaturally long and pointed, sharp enough to tear through flesh. She swallowed. "Never, David is my king, David is the only one I will willingly give myself to. I might have at one time fantasized about being Goblin Queen, but that's all it was – a fantasy. The king in the story is not the king that you are, I don't want you Goblin King, I never will," Ophelia stated resolutely.
"How unfortunate that you wish to fight me so ardently precious, this could all be over if you were to just admit defeat. But alas, you choose the cruel path, the path of pain and misery, is he really worth it Ophelia? Is the high king worth the agony? Is he worth breaking your soul for?"
Ophelia's eyes pooled with tears, a lump of emotion forming in her throat, threatening to choke her. "Yes, he's worth it Goblin King, do what you will but my answer will never change."
"You say that now precious, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve that may perhaps change your mind," he grinned sinisterly.
Jareth clicked his fingers and produced a medium sized square of colourful tabs all of which were printed with various cartoon characters. "As much as I loathe the Aboveground, it does have its perks, mainly the contraband. The intoxicants of the Underground are of course fun to indulge in but I find the intoxicants of the Aboveground bring a new dimension to a hallucinogenic trip, particularly these," he drawled, swinging the colourful tabs from the tips of his fingers.
Ophelia whimpered in pain when Jareth pulled her upright, slamming her back against the wall where she landed with a hard thud, her head bouncing off the jutting stones causing her to see stars. Jareth gripped her jaw between his fingers and prised her mouth open. "Bon appetit precious," he smirked before shoving the colourful tabs into her mouth.
Ophelia's reflexive reaction was to try and spit them out, but Jareth clamped his hand over her mouth, preventing her from doing so. She could feel the square of decorative tabs dissolving on her tongue and a tickle at the back of her throat forced her to swallow.
"Let the fun begin," the Goblin King chuckled sadistically, leaving Ophelia slumped against the wall, barely able to hold up her own weight as he moved to sit with his legs outstretched by the door.
Ophelia backed herself up against the wall, yelping in surprise when the once solid stone of the dungeon now felt pliable and wet, like the stone was warping and moulding around her shoulders - as if the wall was eating her alive. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the gurgle and hiss of its hungry stomach, eagerly awaiting its next meal.
Ophelia lurched forward, landing on her knees as her eyes darted around the room, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on her brow. Her eyes landed on a dark corner of the dungeon, the furthest corner out of reach of the flickering torchlight and her eyes widened, her heart thrashing hard in her chest when she noticed the darkness shift and bulge before the shadows took the form of a hooded figure. The figure swayed side to side, like it was evading any whispers of light and though she couldn't see its face, she knew it was looking at her. Suddenly, from the cracks in the stone walls and floor snaked thousands of black, jagged tentacles, each of them snaking and twisting in her direction. Ophelia screamed, swatting at the vine like appendages as they curled around her legs and caressed her arms.
A deep, rasping rumble of laughter echoed loudly in her mind. It was tangible, palpable, she could literally feel it, it was evil, wicked. The laughter left a slimy film on her skin that burned, making her feel as though she was being boiled alive. Ophelia wildly scanned the room, looking for the source of the laughter, looking to plead and beg for it to release her from its lava-like hold. That was when she saw it, sitting by the door – a demon. The demon's eyes were cat-like, yellow in colour with a reflective glint of silver flashing in the midst of its onyx pupils. The demon's skin was covered in course, black hair and when it smiled, she could see rows and rows of sharp, jagged yellowed teeth – she was in hell.
"I don't belong here," she whimpered. She didn't belong in hell with snarling hungry beasts and terrifying demons. She'd never hurt anyone, she'd always done her best to be kind, to be a good friend, a good daughter, surely she didn't belong here.
"Belong where precious?-" the demon's benevolent rasping voice crooned, setting her skin aflame with searing heat, "-where do you suppose you are?"
"Hell," she sobbed into her hands despairingly.
The demon cackled, the sound grating on her bones, making her teeth itch. A pair of burning hot hands gripped her arms and she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Ophelia opened her eyes to find the nightmarish face of the demon staring back at her, it's thin, cracked lips pulled back over its pointed teeth in a snarl. "Take me as your king precious and I'll release you from hell and show you the pleasure of heaven," the evil creature crooned, trailing it's forked tongue across the tops of her breasts.
"No-" Ophelia screamed, "-no, no, no," she fought with the demon, squirming and writhing in its fiery hold, kicking her aching, torn legs until the demon's grip on her faltered. She continued to fight, flailing her arms in every direction, feeling her fists pummel a wiry, solid body whilst snarls and growls of anger echoed in her mind.
"You want to know the pain of hell precious, then let me show you," the demon rasped, dragging her flailing body towards the hanging chains.
Cold metal clamped around her wrists and she was left hanging limply from the chains, barely able to keep her feet grounded on the floor due to the searing pain that would flare whenever her soles touched the cool stone while her shoulders pulled, and her arms ached from the angle in which they were elevated. Through the blur of her tears, she could see the demon approach the wooden crate pushed up against the wall, retrieving a flogging whip before turning to face her with a wicked grin. Ophelia's eyes widened in terror, as she watched the leather straps of the whip swing by the creatures side, the multiple straps sporting fragments of bone and metal ball-bearings. The demon swiped the whip through the air and her stomach roiled when it's screaming whistle filled her ears.
"I'll give you one last chance precious, submit to me and let me ease your suffering with rapturous pleasure of the flesh," he rasped, his forked tongue darting over her nipple as a clawed hand teasingly grazed her apex.
"Be my queen precious, allow me to save you from the fires of hell," he crooned, covering her breast with his mouth.
Ophelia's stomach roiled as the sour hint of bile burnt the back of her throat and she screamed, thrashing against the chains. She knew what the demon wanted. He wanted her to turn her back on David. He wanted to tear her away from her love but she wouldn't, she couldn't. David owned her body, her heart, her mind, her soul, she'd rather die than walk away from him.
"What do you say precious?-" the creature purred, cupping between her legs, his claw slipping painfully between her burning folds, "-I can show you things you'd never dreamed of, I can give you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination," he sucked her nipple between his teeth, biting down with sharp teeth, eliciting a keening cry of pain. "Do we have a deal Ophelia?"
"No-" she spat through gritted teeth, "-I won't turn my back on my king, I won't do it for anyone, you can kill me and with my last breath I'll declare my love for him, never will I want you!"
"As you wish precious," the demon snarled, moving out of sight.
A deafening crack pierced the air before white hot agony flared over Ophelia's back and a scream so shrill it could have broken glass ripped from her throat. She felt the skin on her back rip and tear with each agonising flog of the sadistic whip. Ophelia screamed until her voice was merely a hoarse whisper, her eyes streaming with tears as the blood oozing from her wounds started to pool around her feet, leaving her struggling for purchase on the slick ground.
By the time the final blow of the whip struck, Ophelia was barely conscious. Her mind was hazy and her vision obscured by wisps of grey fog. Her shredded muscles were spasming while the rest of her body shook and trembled. Her stomach roiled and with a violent lurch, a projectile stream of vomit rocketed from between her cracked lips. The dark rasping laughter of the demon shrouded her in a blanket of fire and she whimpered weakly, another forceful constriction of her stomach bringing with it a fountain of bile that splattered by her feet.
The demons hideous features filled her vision, it's eyes flashing with sadistic glee. "Did my little pet perhaps change her mind?"
"No," Ophelia replied, her voice barely a whisper.
Obviously not appreciating her answer, the demon growled before another loud whistle was followed by a deafening crack and this time the white hot pain flared over her chest and ribs, leaving her gasping for breath as her body and brain struggled to process such immense, intolerable pain.
"Foolish girl," the demon sneered, it's evil yellow eyes the last thing she saw before her world once again turned black.
David sat slumped in his throne, his eyes trained on his booted feet as he wracked his brain for a solution to how he could get past the wards of Jareth's castle. The king used to think that being a vampire made him invincible, that he could conquer any challenge. He had the ability to fly, to read and alter minds, to communicate telepathically, to self-heal and be free of the constraints of a human body. Yet sitting here, in his throne, he knew he wasn't invincible, not in the Underworld, there were limits to his abilities and it burned him from the inside out that a prancing, arrogant low-life like the Goblin King could stand in his way.
The door to the throne room opened and David's head snapped up, a frown furrowing his brows when Dwayne stepped into the room, his gait exhausted and weak. "What are you doing? You should be in the infirmary, resting," David chastised, leaping to his feet.
"I'm not a fan of being man-handled by a dude every five minutes," Dwayne grimaced, leaning on David for support as the king lead him up onto the dais.
"Sit," David gestured to his throne. The king could see his friend was about to refuse and gently pushed his shoulder, knocking him back onto the padded seat. "I could whistle and knock you over, now isn't the time for you to defy my orders."
Dwayne huffed a laugh, slumping back against the throne's high back. "So this is what it feels like to be king, huh? Looking down on the peasants," he jested.
"Until you have the weight of the Underworld on your shoulders, you'll never know what it truly feels like to be king – sitting in a throne isn't going to do anything other than pad your arse," David exhaled a sigh which Dwayne echoed.
A cautious knock on the door broke the tense silence making the room feel claustrophobic. "Enter," David ordered.
"Your majesty, King Solomon and King Drake wish to see you," Marko announced, smiling sadly when he saw Dwayne's exhausted figure slumped in his throne.
"Send them in," David nodded. "Marko, have you found anything in regard to the wards?" he asked hopefully.
"No sire, but we're still looking," Marko replied despondently.
"Very well," he sighed as Marko stepped out and both Solomon and Drake stepped in.
"Dwayne, good to see you looking less like a corpse," Solomon smiled.
Dwayne laughed weakly. "Shame you still look like an asshole," he retorted and Solomon barked a laugh.
"How are you holding up brother? Has there been any progress on getting past the wards?" Drake asked, following the king to the dais.
"Unfortunately not," David pinched the bridge of his nose.
"My king, do not take my question as a slight against your judgements as a ruler but what do you plan to do with the Goblin King once you have your queen?" Solomon inquired, his eyes flashing with ire.
"Banish him," David stated, surprising himself.
"Banish him?" Drake frowned.
"Yes, killing him is the easiest option, being that he will only suffer temporarily but banishing him cuts him off from everything and everyone. He will have nothing, his kingdom with fall to the earth around him, he will have no guard nor will he have staff. All he'll have are his ruins and the pitiful creatures that dwell among them. He will have no business with the surrounding kingdoms, nor will he be able to import from the rest of the kingdoms. He's created himself his own cage where he'll live a long, suffering, lonely life. I believe that's a more fitting punishment than the mercy of death," David clarified.
"And you claim that you are not a worthy king," Solomon smirked.
"My concern right now is not what punishment that rat will receive, rather it's bringing my queen back to the palace alive and my hope is fast dwindling with every hour that we waste trawling through damn parchment."
"Surely he wouldn't bring harm to Ophelia, what has she done to incur his wrath?" Drake countered.
"She was the one who found the answer to the land dispute-" David grimaced "-and he would harm her Drake, in fact he already has…"
"What?" Solomon barked.
"I've seen her in one of my staffs crystals, he's torturing her-" David swallowed around the lump in his throat, "-I dare not look again for fear that this time I'll find her chest still…"
"I wish to see," Solomon growled, his fists clenching by his sides.
"No-" David refused, "-what good will it bring?"
"That snivelling excuse for a man cannot get away with such unwarranted cruelty! I want to see so that, that shall be the image I have burned in my mind when I wage war on the bastard and gut him like the damn toad that he is," Solomon raged.
"Solomon, perhaps David is right, perhaps it's better not to know," Drake argued, running a hand through his hair.
"No, I want to know! How dare he hurt our future queen, how dare he hurt my life-long friend, look at him Drake-" the demon pointed at the ashen king, "-he is destroying him, I will not allow this, first some envious, cruel son of a bitch orders the Lycan to slay his parents and now someone dares to take away his love? Is that what our friend deserves Drake? Is it? Tell me!" Solomon roared.
"Of course it's not Solomon but can you not see that he cannot bare to see his love in such pain! You talk about destroying him, but will not her broken image destroy him anyway?"
"He is not going to look, it is I that wishes to know, she is my queen, I have the right," Solomon scowled.
"For fuck sake-" David groaned, "-Ellie!"
Ellie appeared by the doors of the throne room, curtsying cordially in greeting to the three king's. "You called sire?"
"I wish to see the queen-" Solomon rounded on the timid fae, "-show her to me, now."
Ellie glanced at David who gave a brief nod and watched with his stomach tied in intricate, painful knots as she conjured a crystal, handing it to the seething Demon King. David observed Solomon's eyes flash with unfathomable rage as he launched the crystal at the closest wall where it vanished into the ether before it struck the stone. "That twisted, psychotic…" Solomon ranted, pacing the room as Ellie silently ducked out of the room whilst Drake stood frozen in place.
"What did you see?" David asked, afraid to hear the answer. "Is she alive?" Solomon and Drake shared a solemn look and David felt his legs buckle, feeling a solid weight support his body, preventing him from sinking further.
"Answer me!-" David roared, "-is she alive?!"
"I do not know," Drake shook his head and that was all it took to break him as he felt his body grow numb and the hold on his sanity snap.
Jax heard the door to the king's chambers lock, followed by the sound of running water. Knowing this was his only opportunity, Jax teleported to the dungeons. He stared at the dented steel door before him, his heart thundering in his chest as he reached with trembling fingers for the key hung by the door. All afternoon and evening he'd been tortured by the shrill screams of the future high queen, each anguished note of hysteria burrowing beneath his skin and searing in his brain. He hadn't known that the prisoner the Goblin King had made mention of was to be the future high queen, he just assumed it was another of the king's subjects that disobeyed him in some way.
Jax had heard word of the high queen from his associates in neighbouring kingdoms. Everyone who'd made mention of her told of how kind, compassionate and beautiful she was, along with how much the high king adored her. Everyone was awaiting the news of their engagement with abject delight and excitement for everyone in the Underworld revered the high king. He was a just, fair ruler who though his temper was known to be short and explosive, always strived to do the right thing for his subjects and knowing that his betrothed had finally arrived in the Underworld had been a cause of much giddy gossip and celebration. Yes, everyone revered him, aside from the Goblin King.
The Goblin King was insanely jealous of the high king's popularity. His master always wanted to be the alpha, the top dog, but he could never hold the esteem of his subjects like the high king could. Jax didn't know what the high king had done to incur the Goblin King's wrath, though he had some idea it was due to the land dispute he'd had with King Travis. However, what Jax knew undeniably was that the woman behind this door did not deserve to be tortured in such barbaric ways. Jax knew that what he was about to do would land him in severe trouble, perhaps it would even result in his death but the fae couldn't stand back and watch such injustice prevail. He'd check if the queen was alive, he'd alert the high king and then he'd run, not that he had any aspirations that the Goblin King wouldn't track him down but he'd try at least.
Jax listened for any sign of movement and when only deathly silence greeted him, he cautiously unlocked the door to the dungeon and silently slipped inside. Jax's stomach roiled at the sight that greeted him, feeling the bitter taste of vomit building at the back of his throat. The future high queen was hung from the chains in the middle of the room, her body limp, her head hung low against her chest. Her naked flesh had been torn and ripped from a barbaric flogging, her feet resting in a puddle of her own blood and what looked like vomit. Jax moved closer to the tortured body, his heart hammering wildly as he looked for any sign that she was still alive - after such a beating and such severe blood loss, he wasn't holding out much hope.
Jax skirted the pool of blood and vomit, reaching out with trembling fingers to check for a pulse, his eyes widening with shock when he felt a very faint, weak thrum against the pads of his fingers – she was still alive, but she wouldn't be for much longer if he didn't find some way to get her out of here.
Jax wracked his brain for a solution. He could release her from the chains and teleport her back to the high kings palace but if the Goblin King was to catch him in the act, it would be fatal for the both of them. He needed a distraction, something to keep the arrogant king occupied while he got the future queen to safety.
Knowing time was of the essence, Jax teleported to the high king's palace, praying that his decision wouldn't cost the queen her life.
"I can't believe no-one knows anything, are they all so fucking scared of that prick that they'd leave the queen to die just to save their own ass? It isn't even like the son of a bitch has any power over them anymore!" Paul seethed as he walked down the corridor with Ellie by his side, the two of them making their way back through the palace from the servants quarters.
"In their minds he still has power Paul, trauma can do that to you, you know," Ellie frowned, wringing her hands anxiously.
Paul felt a cool breeze brush against the nape of his neck and froze, spinning around to find a man he didn't recognise standing disorientated in the middle of the corridor, his mop of sandy blonde hair falling haphazardly over his eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" Paul growled, unsheathing his dagger as he advanced on the intruder.
"Please I'm not here to cause harm, I'm Jax, the ah… the Goblin King's advisor," he rambled, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"Did that arrogant son of a bitch send you with a message? What, is the bastard too afraid come here himself?" Paul hissed angrily.
"No, the king - he doesn't know I'm here, please, we need to hurry," Jax flustered, his eyes darting in every direction.
Ellie braced her hand on Paul's arm, holding him back. "The queen, do you have word of her? Is she still alive?"
"Yes but barely-" Jax grimaced, "-that's why I'm here – I-I didn't know it was the queen, I didn't know... I would have alerted the high king of the Goblin King's plans had I have known, my loyalty to him does not run so deep as to cause such pain and misery to the high king."
"What do you mean barely alive?" Paul swallowed.
"She's lost a lot of blood, her body is shutting down, if you wish to save her we need to move now," Jax urged desperately.
"What do you need us to do?" Ellie asked, her whole body shaking with adrenaline.
"I need a distraction, we need to keep the Goblin King distracted and occupied elsewhere while I teleport the queen back here, it's too risky to try otherwise."
"Fuck strategizing with distractions, take me to her now," Paul growled.
"But if the Goblin King-" Jax's voice quivered, trailing off.
"-Fuck that asshole, I'll kill him – take me to her now," Paul warned.
"Paul-" Ellie murmured, anxious that Paul was walking into a trap.
"-I'll be fine Elle, just alert the king, OK?" Paul assured her, kissing her cheek before with a flurry of cool air, he'd disappeared.
A succession of hurried, desperate knocks sounded on the door to the throne room but David couldn't bring himself to respond, he felt like his insides were being torn apart, the steel fortress in his mind reduced to nothing but rubble. The knocking grew louder. "Enter," he heard Dwayne order as the door swung open and Ellie stumbled inside.
"Sire, I've been given notice to alert you that Paul is going to bring back the queen but we must prepare the infirmary, she is in a dire state, she will need immediate care," Ellie panted, fisting the heavy material of her skirt.
"What?-" his head snapped up, suddenly alert, "-how is that possible?"
"Jax, the Goblin King's advisor appeared out of nowhere, telling us that we needed to hurry, that we needed to help him remove the queen else it would be too late."
"And you didn't stop the think that this was a trap?" Dwayne frowned.
"I was afraid that it was a possibility but Paul was adamant that he go, he just told me to give you word," Ellie explained.
Paul? The guard who got high with the queen and trashed the palace kitchen. Paul who broke every damn rule in the book on a daily basis. Paul his most incompetent guard was putting himself in the path of harm to save his queen? David couldn't quite believe it but internally vowed that if he was successful in bringing her back, he'd allow him to break any damn rule he wished without fear of punishment for the next millennia.
"What are we waiting for, Omarion needs time to prepare," David leapt onto his feet, sprinting out into the corridor with Marko, Dwayne and Ellie hot on his heels.
Paul staggered back, his body swaying as he tried to regain equilibrium. Once the daze over his eyes cleared, he was able to see that he was in some kind of dungeon, the scent of vomit and maraschino cherries hung heavy in the air and if he had a beating heart, he was one hundred percent sure it would have come to a screeching stop when he came face to face with the reality of the state of the girl he considered a little sister. "Ophelia," he panicked, sprinting to the middle of the room where her broken body hung limply, almost landing on his ass when his boots slid on a pool of congealing blood and rancid vomit.
"Shit, do you have a key or something?" Paul asked, pulling at the metal cuffs around her wrists.
"They're locked by magic-" he stated, "-I need you to hold her, I can release the cuffs but with the state she's in, she's going to fall if you don't support her," Jax instructed, his hands reaching for the rusting metal.
Paul nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he gingerly hooked his arm behind Ophelia's knees, grimacing when her wounds reopened, pissing blood all over his arm. He braced the other arm around her shoulders, cradling her limp body to his chest. With a wave of his hands, Jax released the cuffs and Ophelia's weight slumped into Paul's arms, her head hanging droopily as her arm flopped towards the floor.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside and Jax's eyes widened in panic. "Go, go, go," Paul hissed, urging Jax to grab a hold of both him and Ophelia before once again he felt the world around him flip upside down.
Paul stumbled back into the wall as his feet landed on familiar ground, taking a moment to collect himself – it had been a fucking close call. He glanced around, noticing he was in the same corridor that Jax had first appeared in.
Ezra rounded the end of the hall and froze, his eyes widening in shock. "Is that?"
"Yeah-" Paul nodded, holding Ophelia's body tight against him, "-take him somewhere, maybe get the dude some alcohol, I think he needs it," Paul motioned to the wide-eyed fae before making a mad dash towards the infirmary.
David paced the small room, running his hands through his matted platinum blonde hair, his stomach roiling repeatedly, his chest tight with anxiety. All heads snapped up when the door to the infirmary flew open and Paul stumbled inside, Ophelia's broken body limp and lifeless in his arms and a strangled noise of grief escaped him as he saw just how much she'd been tortured. Her beautiful delicate body was in tatters, her precious life-force dripping all over the infirmary floor. Paul gently set her down on the bed, the crisp white sheet's beneath her immediately turning dark red. The king sank to his knees by her head, stroking her dirty, blood matted hair with trembling fingers.
"My love, what did he do to you," he whispered, kissing her crown, closing his eyes against the grief that rolled over him in soul-crushing waves.
"Sire, I believe she's in hypovolemic shock," Omarion stated, drawing him out of his internal misery.
"What does that mean?" David frowned, seeing the devastated look in Dwayne's eyes as he covered Ophelia's violated body with a clean sheet.
"It means that she's lost more than twenty percent of her blood supply, meaning that her heart is unable to pump a sufficient amount of blood to the rest of her body and her organs are slowly shutting down."
"What are you trying to say Omarion?" David swallowed, feelings tears of despair trickle down his face.
"Her condition is too severe for a blood transfusion due to the amount of open wounds and by the looks of it some of the wounds are infected. Furthermore, just from a brief examination, I can see she has a considerable amount of hallucinogenic drugs in her system and I'm unsure how this is effecting her condition, my field of knowledge is not with the humans sire. I'm afraid that her condition is fatal," Omarion explained sadly.
"No-" David shook his head, "-no she can't die," he panicked, cradling her head in his hands. "Ophelia show him it's not true, just wake up… please…" he whispered, caressing her clammy skin.
"David, you have to turn her," Dwayne uttered, kneeling by his side.
"What? But I can't, I can't do that without her permission, it's wrong it's-"
"-Brother you don't have a choice, it's the only way you can save her – Ophelia loves you, she's destined for this life, whether it's now or in the future, she was fated for immortality David."
"I don't want to hurt her," David exhaled a shaky breath, dragging is hands down his face.
"The pain will be temporary David, you're running out of time, she's dying, you need to do it now," Dwayne urged.
David stared down at Ophelia's tortured body, knowing that what Dwayne was telling him was the truth but fearing the inevitable regardless. He gently brushed her hair from her face and neck, stroking the spot where her pulse beat faint and weak beneath the pad of his finger. Exhaling a steady breath, he buried his face against the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent that drove him to the brink of insanity, the sweet perfume marred by the scent of death. He softly kissed the exposed flesh of her throat and before he could talk himself out of it, sank his fangs into her butter soft flesh, releasing his venom into her bloodstream. David's chest ached with guilt when Ophelia's eyes snapped open and her back arched, her strangled screams filling the silent room as her body violently convulsed before she fell still, her eyes fluttering closed with a low whimper.
"I would like some time alone," David murmured, glancing up at the sea of eyes baring down on him.
"What shall we do with Jax? He's in the throne room with Ezra," Paul asked, running a blood stained hand through his hair.
"Escort him to the dungeons, I neither have the energy nor the patience to deal with him tonight," David replied, turning his attention back Ophelia.
"Yes your majesty."
"Paul?" David spoke as the group were leaving.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," the king uttered sincerely.
"You're not the only one who loves her sire," he smiled sadly, quietly clicking the door closed behind him.