Author's Notes:
Dear Reader,
My apologies for the delayed post of this chapter. I had wanted to post this earlier, but got called out of town on a business trip, and things always get a bit stressful and hectic when one gets summoned to corporate headquarters. :)
So, once upon a time, this site used to have an NC-17 rating category, and I used to have several explicit stories posted here. I may be (carbon) dating myself, but this was back around 2000/2001. However, around ten years ago, the site changed its policy to exclude that rating and made 'M' the highest. In respect to that policy change, I took down all my 'adult' stories, and have tried to keep everything a bit cleaner since then under all my subsequent pen names, although it has been hard at times. The first draft of this chapter had this issue; I realized after I'd written it that it might've been a bit too much for the rating on this site, and so have cleaned it up a bit. However, as a result, I'm personally not fully satisfied with the flow of a certain scene (you'll know the scene when you get to it), and so, I apologize if it ends a bit too abruptly. During my edits, I thought it might've been a bit much already for the 'M' rating, so thought I'd play it safe. On the other hand, if you do find it a bit much, please feel free to skim/skip until the end.
On another note, this chapter concludes the main part of the story. Still, I'm thinking I'll likely post an epilogue (mainly because this story has a prologue, and I like symmetry). :)
Anyways, on with the story! Please enjoy the last main chapter of Birthright.
Cheers,
K.
(***)
Birthright
Chapter 6
(***)
Auradon
Present Day ...
The knock was unexpected and unwelcomed.
After returning to the palace, Ben had ordered their prisoner locked up in one of the tower rooms, and had asked Fairy Godmother to seal it with her magic. Since then, he had secluded himself away in his own office, and expressed that no one was to bother him. He didn't give a reason - he didn't know why himself - but the events of the last two days had muddled his usually clear sense of direction. And the knocking only put him in a worse frame of mind when it came again.
With a muted growl, he rose from his desk and strode to open the door, his mood black. He was prepared to rip the head off - figuratively, of course - of the unfortunate soul who'd dared tempt his ire. Yet, as he opened the door, he froze, mouth open, pre-roar, when he saw who stood on the other side.
"Close your mouth, Ben. That's not a good look for you."
"Mom," he said in greeting as his mother breezed by him into the room with a quick pat on the arm. He closed the door, and watched as she gave his office a once-over. "I thought you and Dad were still travelling. Why are you back so soon?"
Belle paused in her perusal when she saw the stack of papers on his desk. She let out a quiet sigh, and shook her head before turning to face him. "We were touring, but news reached us of what was happening here, and we decided to cut our trip short."
Ben set his mouth into a grim line, and walked toward her. He wanted to remember his earlier mood, but he had never been able to direct any of his anger at his mother, and so, felt it slowly slip away. "Yes, I have men tracking the dragon that caused the attacks, but ever since we watched it fly away, there have been no other sightings. And there haven't been anymore reports of attacks either. It looks like it just ... left."
"I'm not referring to that," his mother noted pointedly as her brows drew together in mock admonishment. "Though I'm glad the dragon's gone, I'm referring to Mal. I heard she's back."
Ben was afraid that was what she'd come to discuss. Instead of answering right away, he walked toward his desk to buy himself some time. "What about it?" he asked innocently as he turned and casually leaned back against his desk. He hoped his nonchalant attitude masked how uncomfortable the subject made him.
"Ben."
He shrugged, knowing deep down that his mother saw right through him. "What? She was banished, but she came back against my orders, so I had her locked up instead."
His mother made a sound of exasperation. "For all the smart and wise things you've done since you've taken the throne, you can be pretty dense sometimes."
Now, it was Ben's turn to be exasperated. There were moments his mother could be too compassionate and understanding. "What would you have me do, Mom? Welcome her back with a party and cake? She threw you out a window! She tainted all the memories I had at the summer palace, and hurt the people closest to me. I can't just forget something like that."
Belle approached him slowly, and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. The gesture was comforting and motherly, and Ben was reminded of how much he'd missed her presence. To think he could have lost her permanently five years ago only firmed his resolve to keep Mal as far away from him as possible.
"Ben," his mother started as she dropped her hand. "I've thought about that moment many times these last several years. And something's always felt off to me."
"What do you mean?"
A line of contemplation formed on his mother's forehead. "She behaved like her mother, yes, but before she threw me out that window, she apologized to me. And she sounded so genuine, so sincere."
"But she still did it. Nothing can change that fact."
"Yes," Belle agreed. "But she had been out there with us before. She must've known there was a moat out there. I can't help but think she knew the water would break my fall."
"What are you saying, Mom? That she didn't want to do any of that?" Everything in him wanted to reject what his mother was suggesting.
"I don't know, Ben. But I have a hard time believing she did what she did just because she wanted to."
"That's because you're too trusting, Mom."
Belle remained silent for a moment, and simply stared at him. Her steady gaze began to make him squirm inside, and he felt like a five year old boy again. "You were once too," she said softly. "I never wanted you to lose that sense of trust or optimism, but I can't change what happened. Still, ask yourself this: are you mad at her because she hurt your father and me, or because she hurt you? One thing I learned with your father over the years is that the more you love someone, the deeper the cut when they do something that betrays that love."
And there it was.
Ben looked away. His eyes travelled from the leather-bound books of his office to the well-appointed chairs, and finally, to the darkening skies outside the windows. He wanted to refute what his mother had said, deny her every word and call her naïve, but some buried part of him, the part that seemed oblivious to self-preservation, resonated at that observation.
He hated this. He hated himself for listening, and he hated his mother for doing what she just did - revealing the truth.
Yes, Mal's betrayal had hurt. Her actions had caused him pain, and he had denied how much all these years. He knew that, but for fear of ever experiencing it again, he'd buried that realization deep into the recesses of his brain. It had become easier to hate her than to admit he was scared.
He could feel his mother watching him, but he didn't think he would be able to respond to her rationally. She must've sensed that, as all mothers did, so she simply gave him a quick peck on the cheek before quietly letting herself out.
He didn't know how much time passed as he stood where he was, leaning against the edge of his desk. The skies darkened even more outside the windows, reflecting the turn his emotions had taken. It wasn't until another knock came that he snapped out of his self-reflection.
With the speed of a man three times his age, he reluctantly made his way to the door and opened it.
"Hi, Evie," he said tiredly when he saw who was on the other side.
There was a determined set to the woman's features when she nodded her greeting. "Hi, Ben," she said. "Do you have some time? We need to talk …"
(***)
As far as dungeons went, the tower room she'd been locked in was pretty posh, Mal mused. For lack of something better to do, she walked casually around the circular room again, noting the fine stone fireplace, plush chaises, well-crafted table, and expensive Persian rug that comprised her prison. She'd woken up, fully alert, just a half hour ago on the comfortable, four-poster bed, and had instantly assessed her situation. When she had realized she was back at the palace, she had calmed down somewhat.
She felt ... different.
She couldn't pinpoint what was different exactly, only that she was. Her thoughts and her body were still the same, as far as she could tell, but she sensed a certain eagerness inside her, as if she'd received a recharge of energy, and she just needed to be plugged in so she could get going. Each cell within her seemed to be vibrating with barely fettered anticipation. She knew that if she truly wanted, she could easily escape her impromptu prison, and run rampant as she pleased, but common sense steadied her, and kept her in place. Besides, a tiny part of her wanted to see Ben again; she wanted to explore where her newfound power and realizations would lead.
She had made just two laps around the room when her secret wish was answered. The unnaturally loud click of the lock unlatching stopped her in the middle of the room. Strangely enough, she sensed who was on the other side, and that did nothing to stop the nervousness from overtaking her.
Ben walked into the room with purpose, the echo of the closing door and his heavy steps inflating the trepidation growing inside her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he said slowly. His face was unreadable, but his mood was dark. She could feel the barely leashed anger radiating off of him.
"I didn't know anything about the dragon, Ben. Honest!" she hedged. She knew this wasn't what he was referring to but her misguided sense of denial forced her to avoid the topic just a little while longer.
"That's not what I'm talking about!"
His volume had risen, and as if he'd planned it, the skies outside rang with a loud clap of thunder, causing the room to rattle. And although her insides shook from the sound, she didn't cower. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She stood taller, her stubbornness forcing her to meet his fury head-on. "How?" she asked steadily.
"Evie."
Even before he said her name, Mal had guessed her friend might've been the one to tell him. Yet, she didn't blame her. She was actually a little grateful Evie had done most of the dirty work for her. "I was trying to save your life," she stated plainly.
Her unruffled attitude must've irked Ben even more because his expression grew darker. "You had no right to do what you did!" he yelled. The entire room vibrated at his words, and Mal was reminded in that moment that despite his very human exterior, Ben was still part beast. He stalked toward her, and instinctively, she readied a spell in case their argument escalated. But he stopped just short, and gave her an accusing look. "It was my child too. And I should've had a say!"
Mal clenched her jaw at the guilt caused by his words. Underneath that fury at her, she could hear the hurt, and something in her chest tightened in response. "But I know what you would've done, Ben." She refused to be intimidated or manipulated by these emotions he invoked, and met his gaze directly. "You would've done the 'good' thing, and tried to save everyone, at the expense of your own life. I couldn't risk it."
"It's my life to risk! You're so fucking arrogant, Mal!" Ben spat. He took a step toward her, and she unconsciously moved back. "Don't presume to know me, or make decisions for me!"
"I'm arrogant?" She bristled at the insult. "Well, at least it's better than being naïve! Between the two of us, I'm the one with the balls to make the hard decision, and do what had to be done! You would've wanted to fight it together, like we always did, thinking good will win out in the end. But newsflash, Your Majesty! Good is strong, but reality is stronger. And this is reality!"
"And what did that get you?"
His words were cold, condemning, and they couldn't have cut her any deeper had he actually done it with a knife. He reminded her of such a dark time in her life, a time she was lucky to have gotten through with her sanity intact, and she hated him for it. She had called him naïve, but she mentally conceded that she had been the same five years ago. She had so ignorantly thought she'd been saving everyone's lives, that banishment to the Isle and its nullifying effect of magic would save her unborn child's and Ben's lives. And yet, that hadn't ended up being the case. She had miscarried anyways, and not a day went by that she didn't fight the guilt along with the all-consuming sadness.
But Ben couldn't read her thoughts. He must've taken her silence as more defiance because he continued to approach her, the aura around him both menacing and dangerous. "You say you saved my life, but what do you have to show for it? Nothing!"
There was so much fury, and even as Mal backed herself all the way to the wall, she felt her own anger rise, despite the tears beginning to blur her vision. Shit, how she hated and loved him at the same time. "I saved your life, you fucking idiot!" she shot back, her voice shaky, but laden with rage and pain that battled for dominance within her.
He punched abruptly the wall beside her in response, and without thought, she threw a defensive blast of magic at him. He flew across the room, and knocked the wooden table over with a loud bang. Another teeth-clattering clap of thunder sounded outside, shaking the whole room. The heavy patter of rain on the tower's roof followed. A tear, unwanted and so damning, slid slowly down her cheek as she walked over to him, the realization she'd been hiding from even herself suddenly coming to light now. "But I saved mine as well," she said weakly when she stopped beside him and knelt down. His eyes, so beautifully clear, stared up at her, puzzled. "I said I was selfish," she added. "If you had died ... I would've died as well."
The truth hurt. It exposed her weakness, her vulnerability ... it exposed her. And Mal understood that in that moment, Ben held all the knowledge and power needed to destroy her, the dragon's gift aside. That was how strong her love was for him had been - and was - and she prayed to whatever omnipotent being was listening that he would wield this new weapon wisely.
Yet, before she even had a chance to come to terms with her own confession, he grabbed her, and rolled them until she was on her back, with him straddling her. The move was so sudden, Mal couldn't react. She froze as he leaned forward, his warm breath ghosting over her skin.
"No," he ground out. "Not fair."
No, it wasn't. Mal would be the first to admit that. But life never played fair. And Ben didn't either, because he bent down even more, and took her lips in a rough kiss. It wasn't gentle, and it wasn't tender. In that contact, Mal tasted the hurt, betrayal, and anger built up from the last five years, and she welcomed it. She savored it, and gave back as good as she got. Her fingers moved up, and ran through his hair, tightening when he bit down on her lower lip. She bucked, and rolled the two of them over until he landed heavily on his back.
She broke their kiss, and licked the blood that he had drawn with relish. He watched her with hooded eyes, the fire and passion barely masked, but she knew they both mutually suffered the same need. They wanted each other - she felt as much in the hard cock pressed against her inner thigh - but the desire to hurt, to dole out the pain to her physically in recompense for the pain she had cause shone clearly in his eyes. She knew a similar light shone in hers.
As if spurred by some unspoken agreement, he reached up and pulled her in, his hand grabbing her tightly behind the neck. She allowed it, tasting him again, his salty skin mixing with the metallic tang of her blood. He rose abruptly, lifting her with him, and Mal became only more aroused by his show of strength. He maneuvered them toward the bed, and through her red haze, she heard fabric being torn, and felt cool air rush up along her sensitive skin.
Every nerve, every fiber within her screamed for release, burning and straining from the cruel, sweet torture that Ben was inflicting. He pulled his lips away, his mouth travelling erotically along her jaw line, her neck, and eventually, to her breasts. Her nipples hardened in anticipation, and she reached down to hurry him along, but he grabbed both her wrists with one hand and immobilized them.
"No," he said gruffly, before carefully and slowly continuing his task. He tasted her skin, leaving a rapidly cooling trail along his wake, until he eventually took a nipple into his mouth. He teased her. He teased her with his tongue and with his teeth until she was writhing in agony.
He was going to make her beg, and damn him, with a whimper, she did. "C'mon, Ben, just do it already," she muttered through clenched teeth.
He pulled away, a feral gleam in his eyes. "No, not until I say," he responded huskily.
Fucking bastard.
And he took his time. He played with her body as if he'd been planning the torture for years - and perhaps he had - but when he finally did enter her, Mal felt a sense of completion she had never expected to feel again. She savored each smell, each sound, each touch as if it were her first and her last. Their bodies moved with perfect synchronicity, hips grinding, breaths hitching to a primal rhythm they had both known since time immemorial. And when the moment came, when Mal's world disappeared into a glorious flash of white, she knew something between them, something within her, had been irrevocably and forever changed.
(***)
"Was it a girl or a boy?"
Mal tried to overcome the blissful lethargy that had settled over her, but gave up after a half-hearted attempt and remained as she was: so comfortably pressed up against Ben after their intense bout - or rather, three bouts - of sex. She took another moment to enjoy the warmth beneath her cheek as she listened to the steady beat inside his firm chest.
"A girl," she said finally. She was saddened by the reminder of her loss, but for the first time in five years, her heart didn't feel like it was being ripped out of her at the memory. "I miscarried a few months after returning to the Isle."
Ben's arm tightened around her in response. "I'm sorry you had to go through it alone." Oddly enough, the rumble of his voice beneath her ear made his words more soothing. "After you were banished, I would stare out at the Isle every day, and wonder what you were doing. I didn't know …"
"No, you didn't know, and that was my fault." Even now, her pride was stinging at the admission, but she couldn't continue to deny it.
"You're the strongest person I know, Mal," Ben said after a short pause. "But no one should go through something like that alone."
Every muscle in Mal's body froze. He'd said 'person'. Not 'girl', or 'woman', but 'person'. He'd said she was the strongest person he knew with such esteem and admiration, and right then and there, she didn't think she could love him any more. It made her happier than if he'd said he loved her a hundred times. She twisted around, pushed herself up on her elbows, and gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.
"Thank you," she stated simply.
"For what?"
He looked at her innocently, totally oblivious to the compliment he'd given her. And she didn't feel like enlightening him. "For forgiving me," she answered instead. "For loving me."
"Was that what I did?"
There was a light in his piercing eyes that told Mal full well the question was rhetorical. He didn't have to say the words out loud for her to know what she'd said was the truth. She felt it. She leaned over again, and this time, gave him a kiss that was far from chaste. She tasted and teased him with her tongue until he groaned with discomfort and need. Only when he began to squirm a bit did she pulled away with a playful nip.
"You little witch," he breathed out in frustration. But the indulgent tilt of his lips showed no trace of anger. "So does this mean you're staying? You won't do something crazy like throw my mother out a window the moment something unexpected happens? Evie said the curse …"
Mal placed a quieting finger over his mouth. "I've been thinking about that. The dragon …" She stopped, and took a moment to silently go through her hypothesis. "He gave me a gift. My magic, it's stronger now, mainly because he renewed what had weakened over the generations. And I was going over this; the curse is a derivative of the dragon's magic. Whoever cast the curse must have been generations removed from the original as well, and weakened like I was. With my refreshed magic, straight from the source, I'm bound to be more powerful now than the curse. I think with a bit of research, I can break it."
Having spoken the reasoning behind her new course of action out loud, Mal felt even more confident. She gazed steadily at Ben, who rubbed his index finger between her brows. He'd started to do that years ago when he'd discovered a crease formed there whenever she was deep in thought. The touch relaxed her with its familiarity.
"Good," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Even if you didn't think you could break it, I would've made you stay anyways, and we would've tried to find a solution together."
She heard the teasing undercurrent in his statement, and knew he was mocking the heated things she'd said in their earlier argument. "So predictable," she grumbled good-naturedly.
"But you love me nonetheless."
Mal gave him a light slap on the chest. "Don't go putting words in my mouth, Your Majesty."
They both understood their banter was not to be taken at face value, which was why Ben pulled her in for another kiss. And why Mal gave in easily.
This time, they kept it tender and warm. The way Ben's fingers stroked the side of her face, and the way he worshipped her with his mouth ... Mal had never felt more cherished ... or loved.
And then, she pulled away, a sudden thought popping into her head.
Ben stared up at her, bewildered. "What?"
A small, wicked laugh escaped Mal as she gazed possessively down at her re-discovered lover. "Audrey's going to have an aneurysm," she said triumphantly. "I got the boy again …"
End Chapter 6