by Phal, F.
“You are even more beautiful than I imagined.” He pulls me to him. My body flushed against his aroused one. “Even with his bastard child growing in your womb.” His fingers run across my chest, squeezing my breasts, down my back to caress my buttocks, then continued down to the center of me. I am ready for him the scented oils applied just so ensuring that.
“You will give me sons when his bastard child is born.”
“Yes, your brooding mare at your complete disposal.” I mutter, he cups my chin and plants a brutal kiss.
“So eager to put your tongue to good use, little one?” his tongue flicks across my moist and bruised lips.
“Isn’t that the reason for all this?”
He pulls away with a harsh laugh. “If I only wanted a quick fuck, you would’ve been thoroughly fucked months ago.” he takes my arm and drags me to the bed. “No, I will make you submit to me. Your loyalty will be mine, having that from you would be the icing on the cake, as they say. Shame your lover isn’t here to witness this.” his fist my hair and brings me to my knees before him.
“I believe the Marik once said that your mouth was one of delight, show me how delightful.” he orders.
I close my eyes and your face appears. It is your length I hungrily take into my mouth, your root I lather with saliva. It is you moaning my name, you fisting your hand through my hair, enjoying the wonders of my talented mouth. You’re beautiful behind my lids, god-like in your want for me, as you thrust into my mouth, the thick veined shaft fucking my throat.
It is you that has me upon the bed, my eyes are tightly shut. You who spread my thighs, it is you who is thrusting into the very core of me. Your hair so long and golden, curtains our secret moment, as you continue to move your hips, loving me like no other man can.
“Marik…” only you my love, only you.
His punishment, when it comes is swift and precise. A bonfire of my artwork lights the evening sky. The magnificent flame spreads and licks the canvases until there is nothing left. Tears of sorrow blur my vision as I watch your face ravaged by merciless flames, melting away into ashes. I stand and watch with despair filling my lungs. I inhale a shuddering breath, doing all that I can not to succumb to the oncoming sobs.
He is at my back. The heftiness of his presence beating me to submission, he languidly brushes my hair aside exposing the side of my neck to his lips. I dare not move.
“The next time you feel the need to speak his name when I am rutting you, I strongly suggest you bite your tongue. Otherwise I will not be held responsible for my actions.” He says ruthlessly against my ear. “Don’t test me again, little one.” With a parting kiss he leaves me to my misery.
I know not how long I stand here, but the eventual death of embers pulls me to my knees. Ashes and soot still warm from my new master’s fury burn the tender flesh of my palm. But it is a burn I relish, the pain a reminder of what he can never take from me. He may burn all that I possess all that you have ever given me, but know my king, that my love, my fealty belongs solely to you.
***
In these precious few moments when I am left to my own devices, my mind runs away with me. My musings centers on this lovely child who grows within me. He is a boy I believe. An heir, can you imagine, Marik? A little prince of our own. I cannot possibly imagine what he will look like. Perhaps a tawny haired little sprite with your eyes and my nose and lips? What a devastation he will be upon the female population with your patrician features. He will have your charm, I imagine and a grin that will undoubtedly rival your own?
He kicks as though he agrees and my hand crawls to my rounded belly with a contented smile, attempting to follow his movements. I wish you were here to feel this, feel your son.
“I’m glad to see something is all of this amuses you.” I turn with a gasp, unable to believe that he is here. My heart soars along with my feet as I jump up and throw my arms around him. He stiffens but I cannot find it in myself to care as I inhale his scent, long and deep. Lye and soot.
“Oh heavens, Kivar, I thought you dead.” My hands are everywhere, touching is face, searching for injuries.
With a huff, he takes hold of my hands and gently pushes me away. “I have survived.”
Tears suddenly well and it’s impossible to hold them back. Relief and joy fight a battle at my core until they both melt into one messy emotion that creeps into my chest.
“Silly woman carrying on like this when you have the king’s heir in your womb. It is no way for a lady to act.” Despite the bite of his tone, he approaches me and swipes at my cheeks with his fingers.
“Since when do you regard me as a Lady, Kivar?”
He shrugs. “Since I’ve come to the realization that you are the mother of Noria’s next sovereign.” He pulls me along to sit and joins me soon after.
“They captured me and threw me in the dungeons where I awaited my fate along with countless members of the court. Days passed and each person would be taken out never to be seen again. I thought my death was imminent.”
“How are you here? And what of Marik? Somia?” he stands and begins to pace.
“The new king has heard of my potions and what they are capable of doing, do not ask me how he found out for I have never revealed my potions to anyone but the royal family and yourself. But he released me to come and care for you. I have heard that your pregnancy is becoming difficult.”
I did not know why he did not tell me of Marik or Somia.
“Only slight pains in my lower abdomen, nothing to fuss over.” I reach out to guide him back to sit with me. “Please tell me, do they live?”
“I did not see the new queen in any of the cells. As to the king…”
I stare at him with wide eyes, breath suspended in my lungs. “So you know then? He’s…”
He looks at me solemnly and I slowly shake my head in denial. “No.”
“News arrived before the palace came under attack. His garrison was attacked upon clearing the high mountains. The king was reported deathly injured. I know not whether he survived.”
Dear god! You had to have survived!
“He is alive…he is a fighter…a…king!” who was I trying to convince? Myself? Kivar?
“You will get yourself sick this way.” he cradles my head to his chest as sobs overtake my body. “There is a small village in the lower kingdoms that was made to harbor the royal family in times of war and if the palace was ever under siege. I am sure that the king has gone there to gather strength. I am sure he is there now.” It was hope, however small, Kivar gave me hope that you were all right and I will hold on to that hope until I look upon your corpse with my own eyes.
“I am so very happy that you are with me, Kivar.”
“Yes, well, you do need someone to care for you.” It was the closest thing to saying he had missed me too, it seems I have the habit of being with men who do not like sharing their feelings.
“How magnanimous of you.” I was laughing at him and he knew it too, because of the glare he sent my way.
“It’s a joy to see a smile light your face once more.” both Kivar and I turn to see Lucian make his way to us.
“I thank you, my king.”
Kivar disappears into the background as I fall to a bow.
He lifts my chin. “I would give you the world if you but ask it.” You’ve said something along those lines once my love, do you remember? I remember so well.
“Only that Kivar remains with me, I have no one to speak with when you are off and about performing your kingly duties.” It’s so simple to play the doting whore to a king who believes himself enamored.
It is a game I have come to master. Only a game, my love. He means nothing to me Marik. I rise to my feet and gently press my lips to his, a simple meeting of flesh, with no emotions behind it.
“I will allow it.” His gaze assesses me for a few scant seconds before he takes possession of my lips. “Tonight I wish to dine in our chambers, you will dine with me.”
“As my
king wishes.” subservience will get you everywhere, I have come to quickly realize in these last months.
***
His cruelty knows no bounds. Beneath the rushing waterfalls of our bathing room, he has me bent in half while he takes his pleasure. The sacredness of this room has been tarnished, soiled forever.
“Do you know how long I have watched in the shadows as he took you?” he pants in my ears brutally ramming into me, my hair in his cruel hands. “It pained me to see him tarnish you, your cries burnt into my mind.” he bites down hard on my neck and licks away the blood and beaded sweat. “You cried for more, my love. For him to take you harder!” he is merciless, crazed. “Cry for me to love you harder, plead for me to make you soar!” he is yelling, panting, thrusting and groaning. I ache all over, I hate him. God Marik! I hate him!
“I will eradicate his memories from your soul. Kill his goddamned spawn if I have to.” I sob as he finishes. My body collapses to the wet floor and I can only watch him walk away. I want to kill him for violating me in such a way. Slash his throat for threatening our child. I hate being so weak, so defenseless! Hear my plea Marik and come back to save me, save us all from this tyranny.
***
He is touching me, preparing to mount me like a stallion to a broad mare. I can’t abide his touch, everywhere his fingers caress, and everywhere he drops a kiss my skin burns with acidic intensity. It seems whenever I am in his presence our son seems to protest, my love, at the current moment he is trekking his displeasure against my lower abdomen. My hand circles soothingly around hoping to calm him.
“Lucian, please.” I succeed in pushing him away as he tries to remove my robes; the persistent kicks are beginning to ache terribly.
“Is there something wrong?” I rise and try to walk around, but immediately hunch over.
“Kivar, please. Send for Kivar!” I groan helplessly.
I hear him bellow to a guard to fetch Kivar, and then he quickly returns to my aid. He has me in his arms and quietly settles me on his bed. The welfare of our child has my heart stuttering with worry. Please God, do not take my child away. I cannot continue to live if this last hope is taken from me, I cannot remain sane if this part of you is snatched from me too.
“Please tell me my child will be all right, Kivar.” he arrived only moments ago, two women at his side. He is prompt in his action, first coercing me to drink from the bowl at my lips, and then directing the two women at my bedside. His hands are through my hair, his eyes somber, and his face is scrunched up in concentration.
“You will be okay.” It is the last thing I hear before the effects of the potion take its toll and I fall into numbing slumber.
***
My eyes peel open ever so slowly as I awake. I feel a dull ache in my lower abdomen and quickly my hand is drawn to my belly, flatness greats the surface of my palm and I try to rise, fear and dread swim through my veins.
“Stay still or you will reopen the stitches.” Kivar’s face appears before me.
“My child, Kivar.”
“Is perfectly fine.” You cannot fathom the utter relief that grips me. “Along with his brother.”
Brother? twins?
“Must you do everything with such unique flare?” He is smiling down at me. Kivar is actually smiling at me Marik, and what a smile it is. I bite my bottom lip, desperately trying to contain the whoop of joy bubbling within my chest. Twins! My love, two sons! How wonderful is that? I have given you two sons! Hurry home to me, hurry home to your sons.
“I want to see them.” I am giddy with joy. My heart is close to bursting with it. He disappears for but a second only to reappear with two bundles of white, one in each arm. The first one he places in my arms is so small I fear I will crush him. I gently cradle his head to my chest and try to hold back tears.
“Your firstborn.” Kivar whispers, adding to the sweet ambiance of the moment.
Our firstborn, I shall call him Fintan. Fintan, a fitting name for the first born of Noria’s king. He resembles you so very much, with his head of tawny curls, and sweet elfin features, his skin is as translucent as your own, with tiny little fingers and toes, a cherub, so sweet and beautiful. Our Fintan will be just like you I imagine. I cannot help but kiss him softly upon the forehead, he fills me with so much joy, so much of you.
“My Fair-headed one.” I reluctantly pass him over to Kivar as he settles our second born in my arms.
He is beautiful Marik, so heart movingly beautiful. It brings tears to my eyes and I allow them to fall, he takes after me in looks. Where Fintan is fair and ethereal, our second born is darker. His hair, darker in shade than mine is almost a blue black, his flesh is flushed rose, with lips as red as a rose. He is gurgling in childish wonderment. His chubby fingers touch my face. He reminds me a painting of cupid. I shall name him Cairan.
I am thankful that their coloring is so dissimilar or else I would have a hard time wondering who was who. They were so identical in their features, so breathtaking.
“My little love.” He coos and I kiss those small little digits and smile down at him.
“You have done well…the king would be proud.” I spare a smile in his direction and continue to play with Cairan.
“This one I think will have the king’s eyes.” He says mildly and I try not to laugh as he feigns indifference.
“I think you might be right.”
I miss you Marik, I wish you were here to share this moment with me.
It’s funny, almost hysterically so, that he would pretend to love them as his own, even with your blood coursing through their veins. Kivar has told me of his frequent visits to the nursery when his duties permitted him to do so. He would stay with them until they were brought to me to be nursed. He would play and coddle them when alone in their company. Lucian has become an enigma; his behavior increasingly puzzling.
Just what did he hope to accomplish by acting the doting father? Did he not feel threatened by them? He is planning something. I know it. But his actions thus far have proven my instincts terribly wrong.
He remains a tyrant. His cruelty unmatched. But with our sons he becomes this loving, kind and patient stranger I see now.
“”You smell of roses and mint.” He is above me, trailing wet kisses down my spine. I bite my bottom lip to stop the traitorous moan from escaping.
This cannot be happening to me. His touch is not supposed to affect me this way. This tender, slow caress of skin is not supposed to be a prelude to pleasure. My pleasure. I’m not supposed to like the way he plays with my body.
He is devastatingly thorough. There are his oiled fingers tracing the aching, wet folds of my sex. His warm breath inciting me to melt a little further upon the persistent tongue that delves with languid expertise. He knows that I cannot fold, refuse to surrender, but I cannot put blame on him for this betrayal.
Marik, my sweet, love, I am so sorry! It’s been months! Closing in on a year and my body has finally betrayed you. Never had I imagined that I would want to be taken by him, never had I imagined that I would moan for more.
Through my tears I see the remnants of dinner upon the floor, the delicious wine only minutes ago touching my lips is now seeping in to the carpet. My brain is fogged with lust, my body hot with need, and yet I cry…Do not hate me Marik!
“Please…“ Please what? My mind is running rampant, the feeling of suffocation is cloying and has me panicking, my tears are blurring as I try to rise.
“Do not deny it, my love.” he whispers in my ear, his flesh wet with sweat against my own.
“I can’t…please…“On this night I truly feel like the whore so many in your kingdom have called me. I hate myself for arching my back, for wanting him to drive in deeper.
“Submit to me. Love me as you loved him.” His thrusts are deliberately slow, pulling out only to ram back in with enough force to have my teeth rattling.
I could never. Never would my heart allow another to enter a domain you have so possessively guarded and yet my
body does not seem to feel the same.
“He is and will always be the only one for me.”
My body has betrayed you this night, but my heart, I swear to you remains true.
***
It’s breathtaking in its simple beauty. It gleams brilliantly from the folds of the small velvet box, a combination of clear cut emeralds, and diamonds.
“Happy birthday, little one.”
“I cannot accept this…“
“You can and you will. It is a gift.” He takes the ring from its velvet confines. “Call it an offer of friendship if you will.” He does not slide it along my middle finger as I feared he would, but onto my index. He brings my hand to his lips and brushes a kiss along my knuckles.
“You will learn to love me one day.” It seems like a promise laced with a threat. “It is only a matter of time before you come to the realization that he will never come back. Can you not find it in your heart to care if not love me just a little?” My hand reaches out and my fingers run along the smooth surface of his face. He leans into my touch as if asking for salvation, and maybe it is time I give it to him?