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William had been at the castle for about a week. At first everything was new and strange and what he could remember from his childhood seemed to have changed. But after the initial excitement and curiosity about his return had died down things got better. The cook, a cheerful man named Simon, could remember him from when he was a boy and when he'd accidently walked down there looking for the armoury he was greeted like a long lost friend. Simon always saved the sweetest pudding for him at dinner, like he used to do, and though it was only a small thing it helped him feel more at home.

Though he was settling in well himself he couldn't deny what a great help Rafael was. Though most people are naturally afraid of anyone different everyone couldn't help but love Rafael. He was easy to like and quick to laugh and after hearing him sing one would think that he was truly the angel of his namesake. William was sure that at least half the women in the castle were in love with him and he thought, not without a little envy, that Rafael had loved at least a few of them back.

Although his lessons, started just two days after his arrival, were going well he was dreading being made to practice in the yard. He'd seen some of the other boys being trained in weapons and some of the richer ones on horseback but even though Sir John had forced him out every day he had never gotten better at it. He just couldn't seem to control the end of the sword, it was too long and too heavy and often during the middle of a fight he would let it drop too low and his opponent would have a free shot at his head.

He had wondered at first where the famous Black Cloak was, whether he would be watching his lessons, and he and Rafael had spent one night staying up and talking about him. He remembered the figure from his childhood. Tall and always dressed in amour he wasn't ashamed to say that he scared him. Although he must have been around William's age now, a bit older perhaps, to his eight year old self his brother had seemed unimaginably old and fierce and he couldn't see how they shared any blood at all. After a few days of wondering his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had asked Rafael to find out what had happened. He learnt all about Olivia Benson and her band of sell swords who made his father's life a misery but whom everyone else seemed to love. He learnt of how his brother had gone missing, alone in the forest.

His father, after the first day, hadn't seemed too interested in him- he wasn't upset by this- more concerned in something at the other side of the castle to care much what he was doing. He would join them all for breakfast and dinner but William had no idea what he spent the rest of his time doing.

That was until this morning. He had risen as usual and eaten breakfast in the main hall with everyone but when he had turned to walk to his lessons his father had caught his arm.

'Not today William, I want to show you something.'

They had walked along the corridors in silence and for a moment William had thought they were simply returning to his rooms but his father had led him further into the castle.

'Do you remember your brother?'

William's mother had died in childbirth along with her second baby so he knew that his father could only be referencing one person.

'Yes, I remember him.' They had stopped at a thick wooden door. William thought they were in the western wing of the castle, far away from anywhere that people would wander. Following his father in he entered a large room with ornate rugs and plush chairs.

'There's something you should know about him.' His father said over his shoulder, still walking through the room. The expression on his face was like that of an excited child.

William felt a certain level of fear rise in his stomach as he walked over to the archway. He didn't want anything to do with Black Cloak, preferred to think that he didn't exist and that he bore no relation to him. Whatever he should know, he'd rather not.

What met his eyes when walked into the bedroom was something so shocking that even he, in his most wild fearful imaginations, could not have envisioned. Tied to the four poster bed was a woman. Her hands were held spread above her head, tied by ropes to the bed posts, while her legs were left free. She seemed to be asleep to him, though how anyone could sleep hanging from their arms like that he didn't know. Hair that looked blond under all the blood fell over her face as it hung forward and there was foul smell pervading the whole room, like metal and rust; he had to resist putting his hand over his mouth and nose.

He had never seen a naked woman before. He'd imagined it of course, I mean he was a fourteen year old boy, but he'd never actually seen one. Her legs were long and though hanging limp he could still see the muscles. Her stomach was flat and her breasts were a little small for him, though her nipples were bright and pink. At least he thought they were pink. Blood covered most of her body, some of it still fresh and running into the hair between her legs. Looking closer he could see that there was a needle stuck through one of her nipples. He could see burn marks on her every rib and bruises that showed from her thighs to her cheeks. He had never seen a naked woman before and standing pressed against the wall he hoped he never had to see another one like this.

'William may I introduce you to the Black Cloak.' His father had been standing silently to the side as he had looked at the woman but now he was speaking and he tore his eyes away from the battered frame in front of him.

'I'm sorry?' He looked back to the blond, not being able to equate what he saw with the legendary figure from his childhood.

'Don't worry, Alexandra and I played our game well.' His father moved forward and pulled the woman's head up. He expected her face to be the worst part of her but for some reason they had left it largely alone. A split lip, a bruise on one cheek and a cut to the side of her scalp were the only things that marred, what he thought, was a beautiful person. 'No one knew she was woman until quite recently.' He pulled on her hair and he heard the woman groan. 'Yeah come on, come back to us Alex.' His father untied her and dragged a wooden chair to the centre of the room. By the time he had got her seated she seemed to be awake, though her eyes looked empty.

'Alex,' his father said standing behind and placing two hands on her shoulders, 'I've brought your brother to see you.' He watched as her eyes latched on to his and he prayed that he could melt into the wall. That somehow just being in the room made him culpable for what was happening to her.

'It's a long story William,' he flicked his eyes back to his father, 'but the short of it is that your sister betrayed us. I have given her everything. Food, shelter, position, training, love… fucking everything!' he watched him scream the last two words in her ear as she flinched away, shaking under his hands. 'And yet she chose to betray us and lie about it. Now the betrayal I could understand, I'm not unreasonable Alex,' he was talking more to her than to him now, 'but the lying…. I don't want to hurt you, I'm not enjoying this but you can't, you just can't lie to me.'

'I'm not….. Please.'

His father pushed himself away from the chair without a word and walked over to a table in the corner. William didn't want to think too hard about what was on it.

'You have to learn William that as Sheriff sometimes you have to do things that are hard. You can't accept betrayal from anyone, no matter who they are to you or what they've done for you. This may seem harsh but she's been working with that Benson whore… you know who that is?' he could only nod still staring at the now crying woman, 'and she needs to tell us all about it. For the safety of the people you understand?' He doubted how sincere his father's words were but nodded again all the same.

'Stand up Alex.' His father said turning back round. She stood unsteadily and he wondered why she didn't fight back while she was tied once again to the bed posts, this time with her back to him. He saw that the marks on her waist travelled all the way round her body and he pondered what could do such a thing. Small gouges had been made in her skin at random intervals and from the still fresh blood they were weeping he thought it must have been done in the night.

'Do you want to do it?' He looked down and saw that his father was offering him a long whip. It looked harsh and the tail was divided into nine and tied in a knot at each end. He shook his head.

'What, you've never seen a whipping before?'

He had but it had been men in the outside, not a shaking woman in the middle of a bedroom.

'You're almost a man now, you've got to learn to do these things. Alex here took to them like duck to water.' His father said turning away from him and grasping the whip firmly in his hand.

The first lash landed square on her back and she groaned slightly and shifted her stance but apart from that made no other movement. He watched as lash after lash hit what was once only bruised flesh. Her groans turned into screams and she twisted this way and that trying to escape the pain but the one thing that would have ended it all, speaking, she never did. His father only paused to wait for her to stand when she fell before hitting her harder and harder till blood dripped on to the floor and ran down her legs. He wanted it to stop. He didn't hate blood as women were supposed to but this, this was more than blood. This was torn flesh and agony and he felt faint just standing there. It was with relief that he saw his father put the whip down when she physically couldn't stand anymore and led him back out into the cool air of the corridor. He walked away as his father turned to go back in, dismissed from his lessons for the day. He want to pretend that he had never seen any of it but he knew that no denial in world would be powerful enough.


Alex could hear the blood pumping in her ears and her own gasps for air. Her back felt as if it were on fire and she barely felt the ropes pulling on her wrists as she hung there. She was hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, floating in her own mind. She could feel the wood on the feet but couldn't exactly feel the legs that connected them.

It was the first time she had seen her brother up close and it was starling just how like their father he looked. He had the same tall thin build and brown hair and of course their grey eyes, but it was his expression that let her know he was a different sort of man. His face had blanched white when he saw her and he couldn't seem to get the disgust and shock out of his eyes. He didn't enjoy watching. He was a better man than their father.

In her daze she heard her father re-enter the room and walk up behind her. He untied her and lifted her into the chair. Her back touching the wood brought her back to life and she screamed and tried to get away. His hand on her collar bone stopped her and she sobbed against the pain pulling away till she sat on the edge of the chair. He pulled a stool up next to her and brought a cup to her lips. She tried to move away at first expecting the wine they had been forcing her to drink but seeing water she readily opened her mouth. Her head was spinning and she was struggling to stay present as he set the cup down and wiped the vomit from her lips. She had thrown up during the flogging.

'Alex,' he said sadly, looking into her eyes as she focused on breathing, 'I love you. I don't want to hurt you please!' She could never tell what father she was going to get, he was either loving and kind and cried when he hit her or he shouted and laughed whenever she screamed. She wasn't sure which one was worse.

'Alex,' he tried again, 'we're family. I brought William here to remind you that you have a family! I just want my girl back.' He cupped her face and brought it round to look at his own. 'You're mine. Never forget that.' She felt his other hand move over her chest and was unable to stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. She used to like when he said that. It made her feel as if she was part of something, belonged to something. Now she knew what it really meant.

She was tied to the bed, one arm at each bed post. The two men from before had left hours ago after beating her on the floor till she couldn't breathe and tying her as she was now. She had never seen them before and they didn't seem to know who she was other than that they had to hurt her. Her head ached from the where her father had hit it but the blood had dried and apart from general bruises she was unhurt. She had been scared before, her heart beating wildly, but as the hours past she was amazed at how calm she felt. She wasn't going to betray Olivia, it didn't matter what anyone did.

She had managed to doze off for a time when her father walked in, startling her awake. He sat on the edge of the bed with a strange expression on his face that stopped all of Alex's words in her throat. Without warning he suddenly got up onto the bed and straddled her waist, running a finger down her jaw.

'You really are beautiful.' She didn't know what to say so remained silent.

'I don't enjoy hurting you Alex but it's my job as a father to remind you of who you are.' He paused to empathise. 'You are my daughter. You are mine! You are not some whore's plaything.' Anger grew in his eyes as he spoke and at the end he took the collar of her nightgown and ripped it down the middle.

'Wait….No!...just wait… father!' She wasn't sure exactly what was happening but knew from his expression that it wasn't going to be good. He didn't listen to her as he continued tearing the gown off. The calm she had been feeling had abandoned her and she tried kicking her legs and twisting to get him off but nothing was working. He pulled of his own shirt and she saw the white skin over his ribs and the faint hairs on his chest and felt sickened. He lent over her and caught her chin in his hand bringing his lips to hers. His kiss was nothing like Olivia's. Olivia was soft and warm whereas this was coarse and his stubble scratched her face. She had sworn to herself that she could withstand anything, any pain, but after feeling him against her thigh and realising what was about to happen she lost what little decorum she had left.

'Please!...Please!...God no, don't do this….' Tears were streaming down her face. She prayed to God to save her, for anyone to save her but she knew that he wasn't listening. Why should God listen to her? She had done so much deserving of punishment and she had been a fool to think that she could decide how she was to be punished.

He had pushed off her legs as she struggled, removing his breeches, and she tried to kick out at him but he easily over powered her and used his knees to separate her legs. She was hyperventilating now, struggling to breathe against her sobs. He kissed her jaw and rubbed himself against her thigh. She had seen naked men before, being thought a man men were happy to strip in front of her, but never like this. She had laughed inside seeing the sad thing that everyone made such a fuss over but feeling it hard between her legs drove any thought of laughter far from her head. She tried to prepare herself for the pain. She had broken bones before and dislocated shoulders, it couldn't be worse than that.

It was. She screamed when he thrust in, not caring about being gentle. It wasn't pain like she had felt before, it didn't feel like anything else and it hurt more than she could ever have expected. He was grunting in her ear, telling her over and over again that she was his and she squeezed her eyes shut waiting for it to be over. She'd overheard one of the kitchen maids say that men never took long, but she didn't know what long meant. A couple of seconds, minutes? 'God why was isn't it ending' she thought as she tried to get used to the feeling of something being forced inside of her.

He'd left her there, bleeding and sobbing, when he had finished after what felt like hours. She didn't want to think about what had just happened, about how much God must hate her.

His hand had reached her breast how and was squeezing it gently as his breathing turned into panting. She knew what was going to happen. What had happened every day since the first and she couldn't help but scream against it all. The other pain she could take. It made her black out and throw up but all she had to do was think of Olivia. Her smile, the way she laughed, the way her lips tasted. She finally understood how that man had been able to withstand so much for the person he had loved.

But this. This was different. Thinking of Olivia only made this worse. Made the shame she felt so great that it felt like an animal trying to eat her from the inside. She knew that no one could want her after this. Her father was right, he had made her his and not even Olivia could change that. She was disgusting and she deserved everything she got but… but God she was so tired. They'd barely let her sleep for days and what little she had eaten had been soaked in wine. The room seemed to be moving even when her head was still and she just wanted it to be over. She cried feeling his hand between her legs, poking at the torn flesh he found there and knew that she just couldn't. Olivia was lost to her, she was lost to God, what did it matter. What did anything matter? She didn't want him near her again, inside her again and she would do anything to make it stop.