Well, this is a tiiiiny bit longer than the last chappy. I hope it keeps you happy! Thanks for all your reviews, they make me warm and fuzzy inside. :)
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The next weeks dragged on to Virika. She was often summoned before Murtagh and occasionally before Murtagh and Rhys to sing or dance for them. The rest of her time was spent wandering the castle.
After finally realizing that locking Virika up in her room for the entire day would eventually lead to her becoming pale and weak, Murtagh had given Virika reign of the castle. However, this freedom didn't come without its share of problems. Murtagh had added another spell to Virika's anklet that informed him of her whereabouts and that when he wished to see her would burn her ankle until she came within sight of him.
Still, this freedom was more than Virika could have hoped for. As a result she spent many days in a strange room that she had found.
The castle itself was made of cold, unforgiving stone. There was a cast of bleak, perpetual, gray inside the castle. One day Virika had been searching for a window of some sort to see the sun and sky when she happened upon a door of shimmering glass.
Stopping, Virika placed her hands on the wavy glass—the glow of light filtering through and the colors behind it beckoning to her. With a swift look around she pushed on the door and entered the room.
In a fortress full of stone and emptiness what lay inside the room came as much as a surprise as Galbatorix himself had. The room was made entirely of the same wavy glass that the door had been made of—the ceiling so high that even Virika's enhanced eyes had to squint to make it out. Sunlight filtered through the glass and even though she couldn't actually see the sky, just the sun casting a golden glow through the glass was enough for her.
This wasn't the most amazing aspect of the room. The room was a miniature forest inside the castle. Large trees—oak, pine, beech and others—stood in clumps along with emerald grass that covered the ground. Moss grew on boulders and berries grew on bushes. Walking further into the little forest, Virika discovered tiny purple flowers and pond so still that it looked like green glass.
If not for the silence that surrounded her she could've been in an actual forest. The temperature, the sun, the surroundings all had an eerie peacefulness to them. Virika touched what seemed like a patch of little pink flowers and quickly pulled her hand back when they flew into a flock of butterflies, swirling and twirling up and around her.
Never had she believed that a place of such beauty—albeit artificial beauty—could exist in such an empty and loveless place as King Galbatorix's fortress. Virika laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. That the King would keep such a lovely place in his castle.
After discovering what Virika from then on called her Enchanted Forest, she spent every spare moment in that room. Hiding from the reality of her situation and pretending that she was once again home, home in Ellesmera.
Spending time in her Enchanted Forest allowed Virika the chance to relax—to get away from everything in her life. To be alone and pretend for once that she wasn't in this horrible situation. This situation that she couldn't do anything about.
Murtagh stopped suddenly and did a double take as he spied another person in the room with him. He had just been passing through when a glint of copper had caught his eye.
There she was. Virika was lying in the grass on her back, her hands spread out palm up as though they were plants taking in the sunlight. Her head was tipped back and her red-gold hair spread out like a fan around her elfin face. Her red dress stood out in stark contrast to the cooler colors of blue and green that surrounded her creating an enticing picture. Her eyes were shut and her breathing shallow.
Murtagh grinned to himself. She was quite pretty, this slave of his. And being his slave he could do what he wanted with her.
Slowly, Murtagh crept over to her then muttered his spell and Virika yelped awake at the burning sensation on her ankle. She sat up fast her curls spilling over her shoulders and into her face as she reached for her ankle swearing hotly under her breath.
Murtagh chuckled at his post where he leaned against the tree. Virika looked up swiftly and glared at him, the moment her eyes found his form the pain in her leg stopped. For a moment another image was superimposed upon his. The same leaning stance with arms crossed over his chest—only this person was much fairer. Virika blinked and the image was gone. Murtagh's sneer grew more pronounced.
"What was that for? You could've just woken me," Virika said irritably getting to her feet and mirroring Murtagh's pose.
Murtagh shrugged. "You're my slave; I can do what I want with you."
Virika opened her mouth to protest but Murtagh cut her off. "I want you to serve my guests and I dinner in my chambers tonight. I will leave what you are to wear in your room. You will serve our dinner and sit so that we might look at you," he held up a finger at her and his expression darkened, "you're not to say a word unless you're spoken to. Understand?"
Virika was silent for a moment debating on whether or not she should just agree with him. As if he guessed what was on her mind Murtagh murmured the spell that caused her ankle to burn for just a moment before releasing her from its power.
"I understand," she glared.
"I understand, Master," Murtagh corrected thoroughly amused.
Clenching her fists Virika replied, "I understand Master."
With that Murtagh stalked out of the forest leaving Virika to her thoughts.
Virika let out a horrified squeak when she put the dress that had been left out for her on. The skirt was made of panels of fabric in varying shades of blue with gold embroidery and slung low on her hips. When she walked her long, pale legs were exposed up to her thigh.
The top of her outfit consisted of a corset style top that left a sliver of her midriff visible. The corset had been laced tightly with the help of a middle aged woman who never seemed to smile. Because of how tight the lacing was, Virika's breasts were pushed up and forward creating quite a bit more cleavage than she was used to wearing. The soft sleeves of the blue top fell off her shoulders so that her neck and upper body was bared.
The middle aged woman who had helped Virika lace up her top arranged her copper curls on top of her head held down with two gold bands.
Looking at herself in the still water in her Enchanted Forest, Virika blushed a bright crimson. She looked like a—a—a harlot. Virika shook her head back and forth trying to rid herself of the unflattering term. But there was no denying that she would most definitely not pass for anything other than a prostitute. She shuddered as she felt the pain on her ankle start up again—a sign that she was wanted.
The rooms that belonged to Murtagh were certainly masculine. Animal skins covered the floors and chairs made of bone and leather were the seating arrangements. This evening however, Murtagh had created a lush corner in one of his rooms.
Exotic fabric pillows covered the floor around a large, low table. Murtagh, Rhys and one other man lounged in front of the table. The massive, dark wood table had on it many different liquors and edible items. The men were laughing and drinking when Virika arrived.
As was expected of her, Virika waited in the doorway her head to the floor until Murtagh acknowledged her presence. Once he did she stepped into the room and stood uncertainly in front of the men.
All three of their eyes raked her body hungrily and in a way that made her nervous. She made a snort of impatience after minutes had passed and she had been asked to do nothing.
"She does have an attitude, doesn't she?" A lordly drawl came from the man that Virika hadn't recognized. The man was lean and leonine in every sense of the word. His mane of gold hair flowed to his shoulders and his brown eyes were sharp with every movement Virika made. He was coiled as though ready to strike.
Rhys chuckled. "Yes. And that's what makes her all the better! I like 'em with a bit of spirit, eh Ari?" He nudged the man—Ari—with his elbow.
Taking a swig of the alcohol Murtagh smirked at Virika. "Is something the matter?" he asked mockingly.
Virika's fists clenched and she inhaled deeply to try to calm herself knowing that if she got angry it would only cause her pain. "No . . . Master."
This caused all three men to laugh. Rhys spoke up again. "Come, come, Vir—what was it again? Sit on my lap, pretty little thing."
"I will not sit on your lap you pompous fool who can't even have the decency to call me by my name! I would rather eat—"
Virika's angry statement was cut off as Murtagh said a sharp word of power that caused Virika to go tumbling into his lap. She let out a shriek and tried to get up but Murtagh's arms went around her waist holding her in a cage there.
"Get off me you—!"
Murtagh squeezed her wrist hard enough to cut her off with a gasp of pain. He then proceeded to pass Virika over to Rhys' lap where he apologized with a drunken slur about the situation.
"You needn't apologize to her, she's only a slave," Murtagh drawled sneering at her.
Ari laughed at Virika's enraged expression and poured a glass of a red liquid and handed it to Virika. "Here, drink this," he said with a deep, rumbling voice.
Virika eyed the drink suspiciously which caused Rhys to laugh at her. His arm rested languidly around her waist, his hand upon Virika's thigh which had become exposed thanks to her costume.
"Come on—Rika, drink it!" he said stroking her skin and finally coming up with some semblance of her name. Virika shuddered from his touch and his familiar use of her name.
"Don't call me that!" she said harshly.
Murtagh took another sip. "Rika?"
Virika glared at him. "Yes, that you idiot."
Rhys laughed. "Rika . . . you're going to make him angry again . . ."
"I don't care if I do."
All three men laughed at that and Murtagh's eyes darkened as he once again murmured words in the ancient language. Immediately Virika felt her arm moving of its own accord and found herself drinking the liquid that Ari had given her. She coughed as the liquid scaled and burned her throat causing the men to dissolve into chuckles. A warmth spread through Virika's body.
She was vaguely aware that she was getting relaxed. Rhys' other hand brushed her collarbone and though she didn't like the attention Virika leaned back into his chest. She wasn't even aware when she took another gulp on the liquor. The conversation and banter started up around her.
Minutes—hours even later, who knew? Virika was asked to perform a dance. She laughed and stumbled to her feet.
"Only if one of you will dance with me!" She announced spreading her arms wide in a player's dramatic gesture.
The men stared at her before looking at each other.
"I guess I can't dance then . . ." she said mockingly and headed towards the door forgetting that she was a slave and had not been dismissed.
Suddenly, in front of Virika was Murtagh his expression dark and dangerous as his attire.
"Oh, I'll dance with you," he said with a suggestive smirk before leaning in to whisper the rest to Virika, "although it won't be with anyone present and believe me—it will be a most enjoyable . . . dance."
Virika tried to push him away horrified by his statement but the alcohol was too strong and instead he pulled Virika to his body, his large hands closing around her small wrists.
Virika struggled and tried to pull away; laughter coming from Ari and Rhys becoming louder and more hysterical with each of her frantic attempts at escape. The liquor made Virika's mind sluggish and therefore her movements were slow and weak.
Murtagh glanced at his friends and winked at them knowingly before yanking Virika's arms behind her and holding them captive with one hand. With his other hand he traced the tops of Virika's breasts that were pushed up by the corset. Her breath caught in her throat at his searing touch and she pulled even more violently at him.
"Don't touch me!" she spat venomously.
Murtagh just smirked and place his hand on the exposed skin slightly above her hip. The raucous laughter of Rhys and Ari raised an octave at the red blush that flushed her cheeks. Slowly, Murtagh leaned in again to Virika's ear.
"Do you like that?" he asked and then licked her ear.
The last thing Virika remembered before the full force of the alcohol and shock of Murtagh's touch caught up with her was his laughing, malicious face.
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There you go. Chapter 3. I hope you enjoyed it! If so feel free to leave me a review. I love hearing what you think, whether it's good or bad. :)
Love you guys! Oh and Happy Valentine's Day (or in my case Happy Singles Awareness Day!)!!!!!