"On your knees."
The night air was chilled from a southern wind; small fires crackled and spat at the armoured lazy men, sharpened weaponry and goblets of ale in hand. Spirits remained high since the dusk raid on a small border town.
Loot was small but the chaos and destruction left behind entertained the fighters well enough.
They were proud bannermen of the Bloody Queen; a infamous woman of derogatory, maiming and needless bloodshed to get what she desired. Bellatrix was known for swift twilight raids; strategic manoeuvres that outwit tower watchmen, ambushed patrolling guards and the best archers couldn't penetrate their stampede-like invasion tactics.
Her mercenaries held limitless loyalty and when she grew bored of something, it was quickly dispatched by their willing hands.
While the men outside drank themselves to a coma, barricaded in the centre of the encampment, housed by a dark red tent, sat the Bloody Queen and her latest conquered toy.
Lounged upon a makeshift thrown, Bellatrix sneered at the petite, chain bound body below her. Fresh welts, bruised skin and tattered cloth barely covered her torso as the woman watched in glee as another trail of blood fell down the curve of her neck.
"Are you going to talk now, my little pet?" The taunt, a repetitive one. As was the defiance set in the captive's brown eyes.
The younger female, barely considered a woman by her small frame, struggled to get back up without the use of her hands and arms. Pain, exhaustion and the cold weighed heavily but Hermione refused to bow before such a vile monster.
When a foot was barely beneath her, a whip flew out and sliced her across the face; a strike that caused a stagger but somehow Hermione remained upright.
Another cut to add to the growing collection.
Bellatrix was delirious; lost in the visual scene before her. The desperation, fear, gut wrenching anxiety and pitiful flimsy display of rebellion against what they both knew was the end. The black haired woman was a masochist and she loved to torture, cut and threaten; her prey liked to scramble in their last efforts at life.
Hermione was a special little toy.
The brunette turned back, a ruthless glare still as strong; the gash above her eye did little to diminish the obvious rage.
"I have nothing to say to you, witch." She sneered rebelliously.
Bellatrix stood and slowly traced the blood along the girl's jawline until her hand grasped firmly onto Hermione's neck. Dark, crazed eyes widened in glee at the way her skin stretched and paled.
"On your knees, pet."
Hermione felt the pounding behind her eyes, desperate to breathe against the crushing pressure on her windpipe. With no way to claw the hand off her, she fell first onto one knee and then the other, as black spots began to obscure her vision. Bellatrix cackled at the sight before her. A new fire of excitement burned brightly.
Out in the cooler air, a half asleep soldier rounded to trek back down a line of tents. Stifling a yawn, he didn't see the blow before his body stiffened then fell. Lifeless. A shadow moved further into the camp, ready to strike again.
The bodies piled up. One by one.
As another heavy thud sound from behind the tent, the guardsmen became antsy and hastily looked for the threat. One tugged at the clothed entrance.
"Ma'am! There's something out here! It's attacking! They're..!" Before a gurgle congested his throat and he too fell lifeless. The laceration across his neck bled sluggishly onto the dry ground.
Bellatrix saw the body and growled angrily. Who dared to attack her in the middle of night? It couldn't have been the dense commander and his knights; their army was too far south to make it in a single day. She made sure of that before the attack happened.
A scouting party perhaps? No. Too small. There were hundreds of soldiers in her encampment and there was no chance her warriors would fall to something so pathetic.
Bellatrix felt the wind for a brief second. Candles began to extinguish themselves; the two by her bed, the one on the table and the final few atop a barrel. A deep guttural growl made its way out of her throat.
Someone had come to threaten her. They would regret it.
Hermione couldn't keep up with her surroundings; desperate need for oxygen was her main priority but she could tell the atmosphere had changed. Bellatrix was quickly spooked, anxious about something outside and that made her focus on Hermione sway.
In the moment of distraction, the brunette hauled herself free and fell with a heavy thud. Desperate need for air caused the young female to cough relentlessly and writhe about on the rugged ground. Bellatrix's rage grew further.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"You should be concerned for yourself, witch. They've come for you."
Hermione's taunt came as towering misshapen shadows fell from the sky and began to dance along the cloth walls in a manic but rhythmic fashion. Large, lithe bodies moved with a fluid sway as their menacing motion herded the terrified occupant within. Wing-like appendages flailed about in gustily powerful strikes, the whole structure pulled against the thin tethers grounded in earth.
"Haven't heard about the village protectors? They're called 'Veela'." Hermione hadn't been willing to speak so much since her capture that night. Time was up however and her freedom was all but guaranteed.
Bellatrix didn't believe in the celestial, spiritual or other worldly; it was a poor person's whimsical plea to the greater power. She possessed that power!
While her fear turned to seething rage, the fire lit shadows had condensed themselves into slim elongated forms, grounded and waiting just outside the barrier.
All but one.
Almost like a liquid substance, a shadow flowed within the confines of the tent and stepped into the space between the two women. Feminine in form but tall with toned limbs and sharp, piercing blue eyes. Bellatrix was backhanded the instant she turned toward the intruder; large ghastly wounds tore her face open as blood and saliva sprayed across the few furniture pieces.
As the warmongering queen collected herself, the assailant turned their focus onto Hermione. She stared long and hard into their piercing gaze; relaxed, relieved and hopeful her night of terror had come to an end.
By the time Bellatrix got back to her feet, face doused in red and one eye closed, she saw her pet beside the beastly figure. Free.
"How dare you touch me you filthy creature!" Her raised voice did little but rouse the flock waiting outside. Their shrieks and cries of anger came with the sounds of tearing fabric and splintered poles.
The Bloody Queen's castle came down around her.
Hermione had heaved a sigh, the restraints were gone and circulation had returned to her limbs; the comforting embrace of her saviour eased what little pain lingered. She did little else but watch as the Veela closed in on the vile woman.
Their eyes met for a split second. Hermione's lip curled into the tiniest of smirks.
"On your knees, bitch."
Midmoon Kitsune out!