Post #2642055 in Beyond These Walls: The Monarch's Eye, a roleplay on RPG

Disclaimer: The second segment of this post contains implications of adult content, and some potentially disturbing themes. While there isn't anything overtly explicit, it may not be everyone's cup of tea. Readers, ye be warned.

╔╗

✦ Scεпε 1 - Awakening/ROSƐ ƓARƊƐƝ ✦

╚╝

{A cold night. The moon wasn't shining. Mary lay amidst a field of blood-red roses. The roses were all starting to wilt around her...}
Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✦ #00a1d7

║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖
║❖❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║
❖║

The air was heavy and cold, the rain pouring down upon her back as Mary lay face down in the mud.
She felt as though she was sinking deeper with each passing moment. Each raindrop seemed to hit her like a hammer, slowly driving her further and further into the dirt. She gasped for breath, the very air so thick that she felt as though she was drowning beneath a vast ocean, slowly crushed underneath the pressure. And yet, she kept on struggling, choking, coughing, and clinging to the life that threatened to leave her. The pain of suffocation was nothing to her, regardless. Her mind had long since stopped registering all sensations save the burning agony in her chest that only mounted with each passing second.

She tried to rise, but the endeavor was useless. She could no longer feel her legs, let alone stand upon them. But regardless, she had to keep going. She had to get away. If she didn't get away from this place, if she stopped moving even for an instant, she would die. So, mustering all her remaining strength, she continued struggling, knowing that any of the breaths she took might have been her last. Reaching out, she sank her hands into the soft mud, feeling a faint warmth as the thorns of the roses she lay amidst sank deeply into her flesh. She ignored the pain, pulling with all her might and dragging herself along. As the thorns began to peel away at her skin, she felt nothing. Even the pain in her chest was starting to fade. Her eyelids felt heavy, the world around her seeming to blur and shake. More than anything else, though, she simply felt... cold. The chilling, frigid rain had soaked her through and through, leaving her shivering and numb. The only warmth left in her was upon her back, as something sticky and hot slowly seeped its way down into the mud, leaving a trail of scarlet ichor behind her as she continued tugging herself forward.

The wind was howling, sending up clouds of crimson as red petals were torn from their stems and sent cascading wildly into the air, flying for an instant before being forced down into the dirt. The roses bent their heads beneath this overwhelming force, sinking into the mud alongside her. Would she die here, beaten down like those flowers? Her arms felt heavy, and she found she could no longer go on. Everything, even the pain, was all beginning to seem far away. She tried to keep her eyes open, tried to keep moving, but found her body would no longer respond. Her jaw hung slack, clinging to a breath that even she knew would never come. This was the end. She couldn't escape. The last thing she heard was a splash in the mud a short distance behind her as a shadow loomed overhead, someone taking hold of her shoulders and...- beginning to shake her gently...? She could hear someone calling her name...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mary's eyes snapped wide open as she gasped for breath once again - only this time, it came to her freely.
She blinked several times, taking in her blurry surroundings as her ragged breathing slowed its pace. The bed beneath her was luxurious and soft, positioned across the large chamber from a balcony looking out over the manor courtyard. It was evidently still very early, as although the faintest of lights shone in the distance, she could still see the stars glittering amidst the darkness. Through the open door, a sea breeze was blowing, causing the white curtains to flutter over the smooth stone floor. On the bedside table was a vase of red roses giving off a sickly sweet aroma, their petals already beginning to curl and wilt, much like the flowers in her dream. But all of these things hardly had time to register to her, as her vision was almost immediately blocked by a face looming over her as two firm hands, having at some point laid hold of her bare shoulders while she was still asleep, continued shaking her. She instinctively winced, her mind still preoccupied by thoughts of the one who had grabbed her in her dream. She shut her eyes, trying to force free of the hands holding her as she scrambled back up against the headboard, as though she would sink between the bountifully stacked pillows and thus make her escape.

The man holding onto her released her immediately, raising his hands placatingly and drawing back to the other side of the vast bed, evidently realizing that he'd frightened her. Mary slowly opened her eyes, her thoughts slowly clearing as she at last identified the one who'd awakened her. Seated cross-legged, still halfway beneath the covers, Duke William Deoria gave her a concerned stare, the fluttering of his eyelids suggesting that he, too, had only just awakened. His dark chocolate-brown hair was long, and rather unkempt from having just woken, draping itself down over his shoulders in a manner reminiscent of the shaggy mane of a lion. This beast-like image was further reflected in the Duke's build, which, given his musculature and formidable stature, was imposing and powerful even when seated. In any other situation, his physique might easily have gone unnoticed, given his fondness for regal garb befitting his high standing when in public. However, given that he was currently in his own bed alongside her, and was just as bare as she herself was, his overwhelming physical presence was rather obvious.

"My lord...?" Mary asked, rubbing her eyes. "I apologize... I didn't wake you, did I?"

The Duke nodded slightly, seeming rather grave. "You were crying in your sleep again," He explained. She grimaced slightly. Try though he might to sound sympathetic, the annoyance in his voice was obvious. Were she not his favorite plaything, he'd probably have had her thrown out on the streets after the first time her nighttime terrors had reared their ugly head and interrupted his beauty sleep. "Was it the nightmares?" He asked tentatively, still speaking with the same forced sweetness and concern. She nodded, pretending she hadn't noticed his rather poor acting as he gave a tender smile and reached across the bed, lovingly caressing her cheek before pulling her into a tight embrace. "Oh, my poor, dear, sweet rose," He cooed, stroking her head and running his hands through her long, flowing hair. She supposed he was trying to comfort her, but somehow, she found it rather difficult to appreciate this gesture, if it was indeed his intent. She'd found her face somewhat forcefully pressed against his bare chest as his clumsy fingers snagged and cloyed at her tresses, as though trying to tear out a few and keep them as souvenirs of her while she was away. In fact, given her lord's capricious cupidity, she wouldn't have been surprised if that were exactly what he was doing. Regardless of how romantic he must have thought he was being, all she could think of was that he still reeked of sweat, and of how much she wished she could just pull away. It didn't matter what she wanted, though. He'd have used her however he pleased even had she been kicking and screaming the whole time - he just wouldn't have been as "kind" about it.

"If all the memories of your homeland are so painful to you as this, why do you yet strive to return?" The Duke asked, his usual clingy insistence on keeping her in his own home - and, as was doubtless more important to him, in his own bed - slipping even more clearly through his facade of compassion. He already must have known what her answer would be, but he continued asking every chance he got, as if he expected that she'd just abandon all of her plans in favor of remaining as his mistress.

"Because," She began firmly, trying to ignore the sensation of his hands - having since finished playing with her hair - beginning to creep their way down to the small of her back, tracing the courses of her scars as they went. He seemed strangely fascinated with this particular form of probing, as though after he was done, the imprints left in her skin would be of his making, forever branding her as the Duke's personal whore. He needn't have bothered, in her opinion. Her shame and disgust were doing a fine enough job of that already. "I must. My honor requires it. I owe a debt to my homeland that compels me to do everything in my power to save it, and I owe a debt to this kingdom for sheltering me when I was a pariah and an outcast. If I can serve both lands that I have called home by aiding in the search for your Princess' artifact, would it not be the most craven form of cowardice and selfishness to deny those obligations, to cower from my duty?" She managed to partially disentangle herself from the Duke's somewhat forceful grasp, doing her best to deliver her answer face to face in the hopes that he'd take the hint and release her. Whether or not he actually understood her intentions, she wasn't sure, but regardless, he did unwind one of his hands from around her... only to place two of his fingers underneath her chin, lifting it ever so slightly as he leaned over her.

"And what of your duty to me?" He purred, giving a disgustingly coy smile. Mary could hardly keep herself by trying to shove him out of the bed and hoping he'd crack his head open on the stones of the floor.

"While the debt I owe to you is, on my honor, far too vast for me to ever even consider it repaid, have I not also served you with the utmost faithfulness ever since I entered into your patronage?" Mary said uneasily, trying to keep her composure even as her master's hand once again returned to caressing her face. "I have placed everything I have, everything I am, completely at your disposal. Furthermore, even in a distant land, I can continue to serve your interests, and bring glory to your own house through faithful service to her majesty. Surely, you can see fit to grant me this one boon, for the sake of my honor?" The Duke gave a hearty chuckle, before abruptly pulling her once again into his arms, drowning out whatever protests she might have hoped to level against this action with a passionate kiss. Mary quickly drew back, reclaiming the breath her master had so suddenly stolen from her, only to find herself slowly forced back down onto the bed as the Duke moved atop her. Mary breathed a silent sigh of disappointment. His insistence on her company the previous night had been noisome enough. Was he still not satisfied? That was, of course, a stupid question. The Duke was never satisfied - at least, not when it came to her.

"Fear not, my sweet rose. After all, I already agreed to grant you the right to serve with this expedition, and I see no reason to renege on that oath." His smugness was almost palpable, and only served to make her wish she had thrown him off the bed when she had the chance. "However, if you are so intent on repaying your debts, then perhaps I should also allow you to make recompense for the inconvenience this places upon me? It will be so lonely without you here, after all..." He observed with mock innocence. Mary sighed.

"Though it displease you, milord, mightn't we postpone this 'repayment' until I should return? We depart today morning, and I have much preparation to do..." Mary protested weakly, hoping it might dissuade him from pursuing his desire any further. The Duke merely chuckled.

"The sun has only just crested the horizon. You have more than sufficient time for your preparation," He said dismissively, looming over her. Mary looked away, not wishing to indulge him any further.

"And what of the maids? If they should arrive for their morning cleaning and find me here, it would surely place a stain upon both your good name and my own reputation..." She tried a different tack, hoping that if she could not appeal to practicality, she might convince him to release her simply for the sake of maintaining the appearance of propriety. The Duke once again shook his head.

"You needn't worry about that. They cannot enter unless I bid that they do so. We have plenty of time, and the luxury of solitude together. Surely you won't be so cold as to deny me my last chance to have your company before you leave me? We don't even know when you'll be returning. It would be a most regrettable shame to leave and be without each other without first cherishing this opportunity... would it not?" He needn't have toyed about any further, as he'd already made clear that her refusal wasn't an option. He might have phrased his words as an invitation, but the Duke had meant them as an order. Further resistance was meaningless, and would only earn the Duke's ire - something she couldn't afford so long as she was relying on him so thoroughly. Disgusting though it may have been, the only way for her to survive was to live in this despicable fashion, surrendering herself as an instrument of this arrogant man's fancy. All she could do now was endure his revolting advances as best she could, and wait until he finally lost interest and left. Breathing a silent sigh, she shut her eyes and sank once more into the pillows, as she had into the mud in her dream. "If it please you, my lord... my life... is yours," She whispered obediently, repeating the oath she had sworn when she first entered the Duke's service. He smiled, exalting in his victory as the wolf over the fallen lamb, and then leaned in, kissing her even more fervently than before. But for her part, she felt nothing, merely clinging to the same breath with which she had spoken the terms of her surrender. Like in her dreams, her senses were already slipping away, as was her hope of escape. There was nowhere to go but here, no fate that awaited her but this.

Her departure, even if it was only to return to the dread terror of her old homeland, couldn't come soon enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rattling of the carriage wheels abruptly came to a halt.
Moments later, a serving man opened the door, offering his hand to the young lady inside as she gingerly dismounted. Two others began retrieving her baggage from the vehicle's roof, and set about moving it onto one of many carts carrying supplies, provisions, and personal luggage onto the ship.

Ah, the ship. Mary found herself wearing a slight grin despite herself as she bid the Duke's manservant adieu and strode out onto the pier, sizing up the large royal vessel she was to serve upon. Once she got on board that ship, she'd no longer have to deal with her master's amaranthine affectations of affection, or, worse, his craven craving for companionship. She'd finally be able to pursue her own goals, to strive for her own causes.

Well... that wasn't actually the case. Most likely, she'd just end up dealing with harassment from the sailors instead of from the Duke - she'd heard such was often the case for women traveling by sea - and would find herself bound to heed the whimsical commandments of the Princess and the Captain instead of her selfish master. But at least in the case of the former she could refuse, and in the case of the later take security in knowing that whatever she might be ordered to do, it could doubtless be no worse than obeying the Duke's caprices.

Glancing about herself, she noticed a small party beginning to assemble near the pier she stood upon. It appeared that the Princess and her retinue had arrived. While she would be obligated to present herself to the expedition's young royal leader at some point and make a formal introduction of herself as a vassal of her vassal, that much could wait. The first thing she needed to do was present herself to the Captain - whoever he or she might be - and apologize for her tardiness. Even if she had technically arrived prior to departure, it was nigh unforgivable for the Navigator to have failed to report in some time before the ship ever even prepared to set sail. She hadn't even begun serving, and she was already in over her head. She sighed to herself, shaking her head as she grumbled under her breath, strolling up the boarding ramp to seek her new employer. "'Plenty of time' my left buttock, you selfish oaf. That sort of tripe is easy enough for you to say. You're not the one who's going to be held accountable for it." Muttering such complaints at the master who was now refreshingly far away, she thus boarded the ship that was to be her escape at last from his clutches. She might not have been looking forward to returning to her homeland and facing the dangers she knew to be there, but even so, she couldn't wait to leave. Free at last, she celebrated to herself. After years of suffering under the Duke, she was free at last...

Snippet #2642055

located in Hyaline, a part of Beyond These Walls: The Monarch's Eye, one of the many universes on RPG.

Setting

Characters Present

Footnotes