Sorry for the late update guys, I was going to put this chapter up last week, but before I could finish off the last page my family went off to the beach for a week. This beach, I'm sorry to say, is very isolated from computers and aerials and fast internet. So, yeah. Sorry. If it makes you happier, I just got back today. Cheers.
And now, for the review replies...
Dragongal333: Oh, Sheik said... um... I'll tell you in a p.m. because you're the first person to ask and I want people to guess what he said. When I said Lynda had 'inner darkness' i was refering back to the earlier chapters where she was afraid of physical contact. That was a result of a dark encounter with... something... so, her fear was a darkness that was feeding on her, kind of thing. I think i thought about it too much. Anyway, it was about her being afraid of being touched and the something that happened to make her so scared. That something is revealed in this chapter. Enjoy. And speaking of Dark Lynda, I think you've just given me an idea for a sequal! Thanks!
Herooftimes: Thanks, that fight was something of an experiment for me, cuss it was one of the first actions scenes I'd ever written. Sheik's just being sheik, angry and vindictive and slightly a showoff, scaring the soldiers to leave him alone, kind of thing. Yeah, Sheik knows Dark magic, which cancells out stuff like Dins fire, which is holy magic. I thought into it way too deeply, I think. I thought using the items of the Hero of Time might be a cool way to turn the tide, and who'd expect such harmless stuff to cause such damage, you know? Yeah, the bindings are the reason why Sheik hates the royal family so much. I hope Lynda gets to go around the country too, because she's slowly losing opportunities to. My fault. The hat's safe in the wardrobe and the magicians did not mean to kill Sheik. They dream about it, but no, they didn't mean to kill him. Only chain him.
Sparda's Kitten: Thankyou so much for your compliments; you don't know how much they mean to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter, despite its evil nature, and please review again!
Healing Sword: Ahaha. Thank you so much; I'm glad people like this story so much. And thank you for spreading the word about the fic, I hope your friend will enjoy my story too. This chapter gets a little mean, so beware. Good luck on your homework!
Suethe: Yes. Yes their relationship has been face planted. but like a plant it will grow once more! Hopefully into something that isn't so twisted like Sheik's vindictive personality. Lynda actually doesn't know whether she let Sheik down or not; it's just her gut instinct working up. It's accurate, but she just doesn't know what it is yet. I guess the whole, 'nearly blinding Sheik' thing kinda added to it, butit's different from that. It's refered to in this chapter.
Louiii: Thanks for the compliment on the fight scene, I was quite proud of it because it was one of the first I ever tried at writing, so, yeah. Thanks. They had to fight because Sheik was having a really bad time and it was the Royal family's fault and Lynda was part of the royal family and Sheik hates her for it. Lynda's just pissed off she and her friends got insulted. Don't worry, they will eventually go into the lovey-dovey stage (hopefully) and everything will be all right. Epona was returned to Malon after Link rode her into termina, deciding it was too unsafe for such a lovely horse to go on adventuring. Thankyou, and I hope this chapter will explain some stuff to you.
Ninja Squirell: Yeah, I like Navi too, cus she's only annoying if you play the game a second and a third time because you already know what's going to happen and what you need to do and all that and I found Navi real useful in the game. I thought the hug-vibes might be cool because since navi has no arms... yeah. Vibes instead. And yes, Sheik has that peice of the Triforce. I always wanted him to have it, so tada! He has it. I hope you like this chapter, review again, okay?
Thank you all for being patient with my rambling. You may read the chapter and enjoy.
WARNING: Chapter not recommended for anybody under thirteen-fourteen years old.
Preys of the Night
A wisp of green flitted in the garden, followed by another, then another, until a whole cocoon of emerald magic swirled with light, eerily brightening the night-filled courtyard. Lynda materialized from the cocoon, thanking Furore for her crystalline gift.
On her shoulder was a sack of food, water, and a bedroll. Her weapons were slung over her back as if no time had passed since her duel with Sheik, and Navi flittered around her head, giggling. Lynda stood there for a second, savouring the cool night air in the garden she liked to call The Courtyard of Destiny, or, when she was having a bad day, The Garden That Ruined My Life. Either way, it was the garden in which she'd first met Zelda and Ganondorf. Lynda let herself remember, momentarily lost in the sunlight of that long-lost day, vaguely wondering where Sheik would've been if he'd been around in the castle…
Lynda set off, the guilt from the fight nibbling restlessly at her gut. Just the way Sheik had looked at her, the way he just sat there and done nothing… it worried her. Sheik didn't just sit and do nothing. It just wasn't like him.
Pushing away the urge to shiver, Lynda sneaked through the hedges and the guards that patrolled them, ducking through the arching roses to the next courtyard. This one had a fountain that seemed far too large to be sensible, two guards circled round and round and round, like toy soldiers mindless with sleep. Way too easy.
Just to see how mindless they were Lynda stalked behind one and trailed after him, nearly giving herself away with a maniacal giggle. Navi nudged Lynda's head from her hiding place inside the cap, giving the Princess's head a scolding singe. Lynda slipped away, her tunic blending in with the grass and decorative hedges nearby.
Then it was the garden that had the gates of vines, which, as a child, she'd climbed on to avoid the guards and had ended up finding lots of rupees as a bonus. Why anyone would put good cash in vines Lynda would never know…
The guard turned the corner; Lynda jumped and scrambled up as quietly as she could.
There was no possible way to avoid some leave-rustling.
"Who's there?" the guard nearest spun and lowered the spear, jerkily looking all possible directions. Except the vine arch. Oh, there was no way that someone could hide in the vines, of course, Lynda thought, rolling her eyes.
"What was it?" the other guard muttered, shifting his eyes this way and that as well, trying to look through the dark of night. Lynda felt really happy with herself for covering all her weapons and equipment in cloth and leather to muffle the sound and make sure nothing reflected light. Her green tunic was old and smelly enough to hide the perfume the servants had forced onto her… she hoped.
Deciding it had been really stupid and smug of her to have grabbed onto the vine fence, Lynda contemplated whether going up would be better than down, or vice-versa. She was kinda a halfway, so… down would be smarter.
But up meant fun.
Ignoring Navi jittering in her cap, Lynda began to pull herself up, one hand over the other, using a breeze to cover her noise. She grinned when she reached the top. If she remembered right, there were stairs on the other side, making it real easy for her to escape…
What she took for granted was the fact that she had grown up. That meant height. That meant weight. That meant time. And rotting of unattended structures that had plans of being demolished, structures soon to be replaced with stone instead of wood.
That meant the Princess would end up crashing through the said structure to land heavily and noisily and humiliatingly on her back.
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Lynda was gently guided to her room by a sighing and tired Ian, who received only an apologetic grin for his work. And a wink, promising more mischief.
Oh, if only he could retire…
"Miss Lynda," he pleaded, "I beg of you, try to calm yourself."
"I'm perfectly calm, Mr. Mayne," she snickered, her fairy swirling around her head like an angel halo as if to mock him.
"But it's the sixth time…" he nearly whined, but kept it to a respectable complaint. This time a smirk that made her look like a child, that glint in her eye far too prominent for comfort.
"I'm going for ten before I go to sleep, Ian. Look, I don't want you tiring out because of me; you should go to bed."
Ian straightened to his full height and declared, "As a sentry charged with the protection of yourself, highness-"
"You are entitled to take a break to ensure you are at your peak in alertness when I really need protection," Lynda reasoned kindly and fairly, turning the sentry round and giving his back a light shove, "Brush your teeth, go to bed, get some sleep. I'll order you if I have to Ian, please, while it's still a request and friendly advice?"
The old man sighed and shook his head in defeat. "As you wish, your Highness,"
"All is good as long as you don't call me that." She mock scowled, shaking a naughty finger at him, making him smile wryly. Lynda gently closed the door behind her and turned to look for her pair of gauntlets the guards had taken from her.
She found Zelda instead.
"Wargh!"
Lynda sprang back and grabbed over her shoulder, clutching at a sword-hilt that wasn't there. Her heart bounced erratically in hr chest, and she gave a shuddering gulp, trying to calm herself.
Zelda smiled slowly, apologetically. "Forgive me, Lynda. I didn't mean to startle you so."
Lynda nodded slowly, unsure of what to do. Zelda calmly shifted in her seat and gestured towards the bed. "I've been meaning to speak with you for a while. My apologies for not speaking to you earlier, I-"
"Zelda, must you be so formal with me?" Lynda smiled wryly, assuming correctly that Zelda had prepared the speech painstakingly, "After all we've been through?"
The Seventh Sage hesitated before giving a relieved looking smile. "You said those exact same words in the Lost Years. Right before I sent you back."
Lynda's smile turned a tad uneasy, noting that when she had said those words, she had been a hero to Zelda, a boy named Link. And she'd been taller. Now Zelda had the advantage on height, even if it was by a smidge. "So… uh…"
"I wanted to apologize," Zelda confessed, looking down at her folded hands, "For all the things I've done to you. It was reckless of me to have assumed you were a witch when we first met properly. I am sorry I hadn't talked to you suitably before now, when you needed help most and when I was the one most able to help you through becoming someone you're not accustomed to be. I'm sorry I made you lose your seven years, forced the role as the Hero of Time on you, and now as a Princess to this country. I am indebted to you, Lynda, and it was wrong of me to have neglected you for so long. I'm sorry."
Lynda blinked dubiously as Navi gave an approving fairy nod. A smile twitched her lips. "Zelda, there was no way you could've imagined 'Link' being a girl-"
"Much less a sister," Navi added,
"There was nothing wrong with you going berserk, honestly, considering the shock I gave you; it wasn't really surprising you didn't want to talk to me,"
"Lynda seems to have managed fine, considering the circumstances,"
Lynda gave a tolerating sigh before adding, "Besides, it was my choice to go to the Temple of Time all those years ago. Technically, I should be apologizing to you, since, well, if I hadn't led Ganondorf to the Sacred realm, none of it would've happened…"
"So, you're even!" Navi finished, squealing when Lynda swatted her irritably.
"Besides, it hasn't been that bad, even if this place is an asylum. Sheik was a real help, and he pulled some strings for me, which was real kind of him…" Lynda suddenly felt a pang of loss, sudden and out of the blue. Again the feeling of neglect towards him and his needs resurfaced, that odd guilt churning her gut. There was something seriously wrong, and she didn't know what…
"It's a relief to hear that," Zelda's voice cut through her thoughts, and Lynda shook herself, "Although I never expected Sheik to be so generous…"
Lynda grinned, missing the sceptical undertone Zelda had used, "Yeah, he's cool. Anyway, is that it, or have you come to dissuade me from running away?"
Zelda smiled guiltily. "I have to admit I did come with that intention, but I also have to admit that you seem the best in that attire. So, I have a deal for you."
My, this sounded familiar… "Oh?"
"I'd like you to attend one more ball. Just one. Rumours will spread that you want to escape from this life. Use it. With your upbringing, and our father's behaviour, there will be little surprise if it indeed happens. You will be free, our father would have learnt a lesson, and perhaps he will start listen to his daughters."
Lynda's grin was wide and mischievous. "I like the way you think."
"So it is settled?"
"If it makes it easier for me to get out of here, I'm all for it."
"Very well," Zelda said, standing up regally as she patted down her skirts, "Thank you for this conversation, Lynda. I am… I'm glad."
The Heroine's grin grew wider, threatening to split her face in half. "There, it's not so hard being casual, was it?"
The Seventh Sage gave a wry smile. "And it's not so hard being formal either, sister mine."
"Of course, your Majesty," Lynda gave a rather exaggerated curtsey, which looked ever more ridiculous because of the lack of a dress.
Zelda left the room chuckling softly.
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Sheik was all too aware of the coiling gossip, of the poisonous words that filled the court, filling the sick-hearted with venomous glee. The suspicious goings on of Lord Hum, Lady Aretha's possible affair with a chambermaid, the dealings of the servants at Dane Manor; all sorts of stories weaved dark colours into the air. The Markings of Faith sang with the gossip, relating the fear and unease his victims were feeling, all too aware of the black freckle on the centre of their palm and the threat of humiliation and death it represented.
More will be collected tonight.
As Sheik settled into his stool, he noted that the gossip some of his associates shared was mostly of him and his sudden demotion followed by his promotion. He glanced back at them when their gazes wandered; his eyes held an aloofness that unnerved them, and an emptiness that made them shiver. They quickly busied themselves with their instruments, trying to sit or kneel or crouch or stand as far away from him as they could.
Sheik absentmindedly plucked at the lyre assigned to him. The lyre he loved, the one that he cherished perhaps more than his life, was safely under a safe-keeping charm, opened and closed by his own drop of blood. The lyre he played now was made from red wood, smooth to the touch and not that bad sounding.
He glanced at Yana, a girl who handled the ocarina in their forced band, and he was reminded again of the lost years, and the Hero he had been assigned to guard…
Sheik shook it off and plucked again, signifying to the rest that they should get ready.
The real orchestra, the one that played loudly in plain view started. Sheik's lyre began to sing in the shadows with the rest of the motley crew, only accompanying, only noticed when a lonely noble wished for some sort of private entertainment.
Gently he played, careful with his notes, only because music was the only thing he had that was closest to purity, to innocence. Music shed his tears; it screamed for him, it yearned for him, as he slowly caved in on his icy heart, burying himself so deeply that he was just a shell…
He plucked automatically until some nobles approached.
He lazily eyed them, two men, both of them in their prime, filled with liquor and a need for entertainment. One of them tossed a rupee to Yana; it hit her cheek like a rock, making her wince and eyes water. She fumbled with her ocarina before playing a slow melody, a simple lullaby that would've made any mother proud.
One them strode over and gently whispered in her ear, and Sheik could easily guess at what he promised. A new life at his court, a proper post than this crowd of shame-filled scum, perhaps a chance at freedom…
Yana glanced Sheik's way. She had noticed that sometimes, he acknowledged her. But Sheik just turned away, twitching his shoulder in what could've been a shrug or some signal with a deeper meaning, go, don't go, it's got nothing to do with me, he's tricking you…
The young man took her hand and led her through one of the side-doors, most-likely to one of the guest bedrooms. Sheik sighed and continued to play, noting that the other man had not left yet. He eyed the other women in the crew, the ones playing the flute and harp, before letting his eyes stray towards Sheik's way.
The noble threw; Sheik caught. The rupee cut into his palm with the force, lacing the light blue with black. The two glowered at each other, one staring down his nose with authority and rank behind his back, the other memorizing the slick black hair and the grey eyes, a mole on the left side of his nose and a birthmark on his temple, making sure he knew it when he hunted for dirt in their oh so clean records…
Sheik let the glare last a tad longer than it should have before he plucked the lyre idly, keeping only to a mild and repetitive tune. He knew that if he didn't please, he'd be in trouble. He couldn't care less.
"That will be enough, Sheikah," he spat, scything a hand through the air. Sheik nodded his head mutely, already knowing that there was something more to it than that.
Proving his thoughts true, the man looked towards the main crowds and gestured; a figure shuffled forward with a raven haired head bowed down, a silver-grey gown shimmering gracefully around her. She lifted eyes filled with rain-clouds promising swift and painful tears. Sheik assumed that they were related, if not siblings.
"My dear Rosaline needs comforting, Sentesan," Rosaline's brother spat again, using the 'respectable' nickname rather than the official term, "You will entertain her for as long as the night lasts."
Sheik gestured towards a chair, pretending that he didn't fully understand the order, and he asked, "A bolero, my Lady? Perhaps a requiem of the stars-"
"No, you insolent fool!" the brother growled, motioning to backhand him, but that icy glare, the murderous red eyes that reminded and somehow promised him of bloodshed made him stop. Rosaline's brother decided to fiddle at some conveniently placed medals before continuing, "She lost her husband a week ago, and I find it in my duty to make sure that she is well… sated. Do you understand?"
It wasn't a question; it was an order, and Sheik's chains flared and churned, wrenching at his muscles, clawing at his vocal cords, commanded him to say something, bow, anything to make the damn pain stop…!
Sheik lowered his head in a bow, low enough so they don't see his hate-filled gaze, but not low enough to seem like a defeat. "Yes, My Lord,"
"Good. I expect you to be at the Luncheon in the northern labyrinth Princess Zelda is hosting, Rosaline."
"Yes, Pravus," Rosaline bowed as he strutted away, perhaps to come back later for a sentesan of his own. There were plenty around, if they looked close enough…
Sheik stood, taking the lyre with him as he led the lady on, his elbow already taken in her grasp, using it to hide her face as she exited the ballroom. Sheik worked automatically as he half led, half followed the lady to her room, putting the lyre down on her bedside table as she locked the door. He wouldn't need it.
She turned; large hands grabbed jaw, hot lips pressed against hers, angry, testing, and somehow bitter. Her arms circled around his shoulders, drawing in the solid weight and strength of a man's back. Her hands went to his hair, unravelling the bandages, then to his jaw to pull at the scarf that hid his face. Sheik pulled off the white frayed vest over his head, the crying eye of his people crumbling to the floor. She hid herself in his blue-clad chest, breathing in the distinct scent of Sheikah cloth.
His fingers were already toying at the outer laces as he forced a whispered, "My lady…"
"No," she insisted, "Rose, call me Rose…"
"Your husband…?" his breath tread in her ear like burning mist, invoking tears of loss.
"He loved me…" Rosaline closed her eyes and let herself imagine that the tongue that slid up her cheek to taste her tears belonged to her love, not some dirty peasant's… "He promised me a good life, but it ended too quickly, far too quick, I was at his bedside all day and night and I had that horse slaughtered but it did no good, he left me, he left me, not even a child to inherit his beautiful eyes…"
Rosaline was tossed to the bed and kissed, with a force and lust that surpassed her dead love's. She gasped when the Sheikah began to scrape his teeth along her neck, too fast, much too fast, Sam had always been indulgent and pleasant, not like this, no, it had to be exactly like him…
Rosaline pushed him away and was entranced by the tattoos around his throat. A series of runes, linked together like a chain, a manacle, almost. The wolf mark at the hollow of his collarbones entranced her, and she fingered the exposed skin, thinking, "Some links are missing…"
"Those bind magic," he murmured, as he pulled back fully from her, slipping his blue shirt to the floor, "I have none, so they don't bind me."
She knew it to be a lie because all slaves like him were bound completely and utterly, to make sure none slipped through the guards or tried to revolt, but she could say nothing as his lips connected with hers, roving, hungry, turning eligible words to moans of ecstasy. His tongue invaded her mouth, and Rosaline found herself subjecting to his advances, her fingers teasing at his flesh and muscle lines, not as prominent as her late husband's, but they were still there, they would have to suffice…
"Pravus…" the blonde man commented, as he trailed his nose down her slowly revealing chest, "Your brother…"
The black-haired woman spoke, but she couldn't quite hear what she was saying, images of her Sam, lovely Sam, taking her in his arms and tugging her through the bed-sheets…
Sheik let the magic flow as he unravelled her clothes and conscience, letting it caress the woman's mind and body, letting her think up all the sick fantasies she wanted but never will accomplish as a widower. He undressed her, toyed with her, asking questions into her throat and hair as she sang answers to him like a bird, and he had all the dirt he needed on Rosaline's family and friends in ten-minutes flat.
Rosaline was soon asleep, still dreaming, still moaning.
Sheik pulled away from her bed and wiped his arm across his mouth harshly, trying to get rid of her taste from his insides. His skin shuddered gladly against the cold of night, free of the woman's flesh and lips. He retrieved his blue shirt and his white vest, and he wondered whether the cloths that had covered his hair were worth getting back… no, he'll get a new set. Let them remind the dear lady of the night before, the shameful entertainment that he had delivered her.
Sheik dressed and left, the cheap lyre in hand as he closed the door. Now, perhaps it was time to ruin Parvus's oh so precious time…
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Dressed in the plainest dress the servants could find and wearing hardly any jewellery or decorations, Lynda meandered through the crowd on her lonesome. She had nothing to do, nobody to talk to except Navi, and now that she was properly attending a ball and took interest in it, Lynda found that, without dancing with a man or talking to several groups of people, it wasn't really entertaining.
"Navi?"
"Hm?" the fairy asked back, hiding in Lynda's bun,
"Do you think you could sense Sheik?"
When Lynda had first looked at the books with the picture of fairies, she had burst out laughing hysterically and was threatened retribution if she didn't stop her mad cackling. Her sense of amusement had come from the fact that the Hylians had depicted fairies in their image, only with wings and thinner, delicate forms. Oh, how that had kept her laughing for two and a half days…
Fairies were souls; that was all they were. They had no physical form except for their wings, their voice were energy, and their ability to listen and see completely depended on life and magic. There were plenty of those in the forests; that was why fairies tended to reside there.
Navi fluttered her wing, shifting some of Lynda's hair, grumbling a little for being put in a cave of blondeness, "Just wait a sec… yeah, sort of. To your left."
Lynda took a step before frowning. "What do you mean sort of?"
"There's something funny about his aura. It was hard to tell when you guys were fighting, but now that he's still… it's like he's got all sorts of auras mixed into his. Like… a garden with different vegetables and flowers, only it's doing him harm."
Lynda paled. Maybe this was what the gut instinct from their fight had meant.
"What else, Navi?" she asked, trying to sound calm as she quickened her steps, "Anything strange you noticed from our fight, maybe something off right now, or just something you picked up every time you met him? Anything small, please, tell me, tell me anything small."
"Mm," the fairy thought it over and continued, "Well, his aura's a nice purple, tinged with orange, which suits him I think. Um… oh, it's really hard trying to sense him in this stupid crowd, I'll go and find him and check him out you wait here or try looking for him on your own I don't mind I'll find him and then I'll find you next, okay?"
Navi disentangled herself from Lynda's hair and flew into the chandeliers, where nobody would notice her in the myriad of lights. Lynda followed her friend with her eyes for as long as she could before heading in that general direction, hoping it would lead her to Sheik. She bumped into many people, and trod on many feet and after ten-minutes or so of apologizing for breaking a brooch underfoot and promising a new one, she spent the next fifteen minutes stumbling in what she hoped was a straight line looking for Sheik.
Lynda, after much struggle and cussing, broke through the mist of people and dresses and jewels to find herself in a part of the ballroom that wasn't so well lit, and a tiny orchestra was there, and in the midst of it…
Sheik.
Lynda's heart jolted, and her face flushed at the rush of memories and the childish fantasies she had held for him when she had been thirteen, of the lost seven years and how she had waited for him after completing each temple, looking forward to his music and his riddles.
Because there he was, in that familiar garb of his people, a night blue body suit that clung to his skin, the strange patterns that accented his muscle lines, and the frayed white over-shirt with the symbol of his people inked over in blood-red. His hair was just the same in the way it poked out of his turban, always making her want to laugh a little.
Lynda tried looking into his eyes, hoping to see that glint of danger or sternness or that wry amusement that she'd seen in him, if not to make sure that the cut she'd inflicted on him hadn't gotten infected…
Lynda saw them and shuddered.
Rocks. That was the first word that came to her mind. Not the kind of rocks you see in Death Mountain, the ones that were filled with stories and histories and strength, no, these rocks were dead. Dead and hard and cold.
Lynda shuddered again and hid in an alcove, pressing her back against the wall, watching him from around the corner. Sheik sat on a stool and played with a tiny orchestra that accompanied the one everybody was dancing to, not with the lyre she'd seen him with before, but an old, rose-wood instrument, not as clear or strong as the one she'd gotten used to.
Navi came mere minutes later, nestling in Lynda's hair once more.
"Something's wrong with him," Lynda breathed, not daring to speak louder in case Sheik heard her or something.
Navi had no worries about her voice levels, however. But she was just as unnerved as Lynda was. "You're telling me; that guy's aura's completely nuts. He has fragments of other people laced in which I don't know how he's done he's hiding something really powerful and he's somehow cocooned his magic and life-force around it so I don't know what it is but it's big it's bad and it's ugly and there's something that's making it even harder to see him through but it's not him that's making it its something else and it's like this sort of cage that's keeping him in shape which I might add is really bad for all auras in general but something as powerful as him could mean serious-"
"I think I finally found out where I picked up that panicky-babbling habit," Lynda mentioned wryly, and Navi replied,
"Oh really? Where?"
Lynda just sighed and asked, "What do you mean 'cage', Navi?"
Navi fluttered nervously and said, "Magic's containing him. It's not letting his aura flow like it should."
"Magic containing magic…"
As a bound Sheikah… restrictions… thou-shalt-not-use-magic. At all.
"We have to talk to him!"
"Too late," Navi commented as Sheik stood and his elbow was taken by a black-haired lady, and they began to stroll away.
Lynda swore and rushed forward, skirts held in bunched fists as she ran, determined to keep him in sight. Who was that woman anyway, she wondered, I'd never seen her before and Sheik never mentioned her… Something was really, really wrong h- "Oof!"
"What th-"
A figure had been leaning against a wall, and suddenly stepped up. They had crashed, Lynda realised, and now she didn't know where Sheik was.
"How dare you, wench!" a man growled, rubbing at the nose she'd hit with her forehead, "You'll pay dearly with your…" he faltered, noticing that this wasn't just an average looking girl. A stunning creature with round but sharp eyes, a fringe that brushed at her neat eyebrow, skin of… well, not pale, but not tanned. By lack of jewels and the simple dress, not really high in rank… if any rank at all, if she'd been ambling around this area…
The man smiled. "Never mind, accidents happen."
"Right. Okay. Sorry about the bumping Lord, but I'm-" Lynda tried manoeuvring herself around the man as well as the wall but ended up tripping over the hem in her hurry, bumping into his chest again.
"Looking for someone and-" Lynda turned, trying to guess which door Sheik had gone through but she found herself whirling back, her wrist held tightly in the man's hand. "Excuse me-"
"Are you perhaps looking for… a friend?"
Lynda blinked, curiously looking at the man with slick black hair, the grey eyes that looked at her as if she were prey…
She shivered and began to subtly try to escape, pressing herself against the wall to support her. "Yes, I am, so maybe you could-"
"Ah, I believe I can help you," he smiled thinly, looking her over up and down. But then he seemed to think something over, and added rather offhandedly, "You have to be careful around the sentesans around here…"
"I am one," Lynda ended up blurting, her hand carefully going to the doorknob next to her, thinking that if he thought to be careful around them, maybe he'd let her go…
His gaze suddenly turned predatory. "Wonderful."
He seized the handle and pushed the door open, flinging them both inside the empty corridor. Lynda's yelp was smothered by his tongue, forcefully gaining entry inside her.
The basket of berries dropped to the ground, as the man forced her against a tree and kissed her deeply…
The Princess struck, swinging a hard fist at the man's jaw, which thankfully forced him away. An angry snarl and her face snapped to the side, the stinging on her cheek registering as a hand tangled in her hair to drag her away.
The bandit staggered from the punch as she stood stock-still with shock, a fifteen year old completely confused…
She must've yelled, because another hand clamped across her mouth, muffling the protests she shrieked into the hallway. But the music was too loud in the ballroom. Nobody would hear her. Another door was opened, and she was tossed inside.
The man came onto her again, throwing her to the ground, and an outcrop of rock penetrated her back of her side, tender flesh ripping open where the rib-bones couldn't protect her…
Instead of ground a bed caught her, tangling with her dress to keep her trapped. The black-haired man laughed, proclaiming something about enjoying fiery spirit before climbing on top of her. His hand seized her mouth again and Lynda bit down, making him cry out. She was slapped again and she retaliated with a kick but it was no use the skirt softened the blow…
Lynda rolled through the rocks and the man landed where she had fallen, and he screamed with the pain. Wincing at the cuts and grazes on her body Lynda ran, but he must have thrown a rock because she was down again, wailing at a throbbing shoulder-blade…
Lynda punched again, this time in the gut as the man that straddled her tried to undo his shirt. The noble grunted and Lynda rolled, scattering pillows and herself to the floor. She tried to pick herself up but she couldn't because of the skirt, this stupid dress, just because she was a woman, a weak, helpless woman…
With knife and hands the bandit landed on her, squashing her throat as he ripped at her tunic, pressing his face into the bare flesh of her stomach as soon as he found it. Lynda screamed.
"Silence harlot!" the Noble-blooded man cried out angrily, "I've had enough of this struggling!"
He pulled at the blankets of the bed and smothered her, weighing down on the skirt and her legs, and he straddled her once more.
"No! No, no, no!"
Lynda's punches and attacks became less accurate and powerful as he grabbed at her hands, pinning them above her head with a giant hand. She squirmed fruitlessly as he used his other hand and teeth to tear at her neckline, slowly but surely unravelling her.
She kicked and punched; the man rolled off of her. Lynda scrambled to her feet then the knife he held slashed at her leg and shoulder, and he grabbed her arm and the hard, wooden, splintering hilt and the blunt but serrated edge of his knife scraped savagely over her forehead, he had her once more, and redness that was but wasn't blood flowed over her vision…
Last time she had been in the forest. Home territory. The bandit had been half starved and affected by the Forest's curse. He'd had a weapon she could use against him, a knife she'd grabbed to stab him again and again and again and again and again, until every part of her was speckled with blood, her hands and wrists drowned in the haunting liquid.
That was last time. This time she had nothing.
Hot tears she had not allowed all those years ago burned down her cheeks as she screamed.
So yeah, that's it for me for this week. I've got exams so I won't be writing for a while, maybe two weeks till my next update? Three weeks at most.
Please don't hate me.
Both for updates and for this chapter itself. Please, also, review.
With Love, S.S.