The Caged Raven

The morning hours turned to mid-day and it was evening before long. Raven had wandered about, left alone from her new male companion. It was better that way, alone with her thoughts she could absorb everything that had occurred over the last day. She should have died, should have had her throat cut on the battle field. Ending up clothed in fabrics more lavish than she could ever imagine existed, simply did not make sense. And the feeling that he had given her, the way her body had quivered beneath him, the lust that she could not have possibly fathomed, was definitely not supposed to happen. She licked her lips and took in a staggered breath as the familiar heat wracked her form slightly.


Winter’s onslaught had come about in the midst of the night and the slated sky met with powder untouched in the nearby hills that rolled down around the castle. The sun fought to break through the thick clouds but save for earlier that day when it had shone through the glass at breakfast had failed to allow much light in. Raven could feel a chill run up her spine and folded her arms across her chest. Though she was well protected in the castle she could not help but imagine what it would have been like had she not lost the battle the day earlier, the cold lapping at her body, leaving her barely alive. But triumphant yes, though such an idea seemed foolhardy at that moment.


She moved down the halls towards the lobby. There were no guards, not that any would have been necessary, and the silence made her uneasy. There was a rumor of a court somewhere in the midst though there never seemed to be any people around. There were three other kingdoms in the land that Raven knew about, and as far as she was aware they did not go to war with each other, each one far too concerned of the rebels that tended to rise up in their regions, like Raven and her comrades had. Neither the sound of the world or the existence of others could be heard; she took in a shallow breath and released it deciding that the harsh weather as of late must have left people trapped in their homes.


Raven moved again down through the castle, her feet freezing at the edge of the plush red carpet. The exit was mere meters away from where she stood. She took in her surroundings once more and took a step forward. Her mind raced as the prospects of escape. She should have wanted to run, to sprint out into the cold and never look back. But she hesitated as again, memories of the night prior flooded her mind.


The heat pressed into her loins once more and her hands moved to her lap, pressing in ever so slightly. If she left then that feeling would never be hers again, only the empty hunger she felt now. Raven bit her lip and turned on her heel. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, and warm streams flowing down her cheeks marring her otherwise perfect makeup. She returned to the hall and collapsed to her knees. Her hair cascaded around her back, shielding her face from the suddenly occupied hall. A group of women stood in the distance and a flock of lords dressed like the man from breakfast were at her right. Suddenly the court which until then had been absent surrounded her.


She sobbed yet no one approached. She took fistfuls of the lush rug squeezing and twisting until her palms were pink. Soreness shot up through her belly, and she once again felt the flow of blood between her legs. She remembered the cream spoken about at breakfast and rose to her feet slowly. Attention had already been drawn to her, though no one made any motion to help her up. She watched them as they stared at her, her eyes hot with tears and her face tight and red.


She lowered her head and gritted her teeth, moving quickly through the crowds back towards the bed chamber. Pain radiated down through her legs and her gut lurched. Why so sudden and terrible? It made no sense. Had the guilt and shame that came with being a demon’s concubine finally sunk into her bones she wondered? She teetered and fell against a wall gasping for air.


Her mind screamed out for help and despite her better judgment she thought of Macnayer and how she wished he could save her. The world around her began to dim. She slouched to the side into a tapestry, indifferent to what would become of her if she was found in such a state. For the second time in twenty four hours she welcomed death, and cared little about what awaited her in the afterlife honor or otherwise.


Macnayer came to her then. Lifted her up into his arms, her body tiny, nearly weightless, and her eyes half shut. “What troubles you my little one?”


Raven swallowed, “Why does it hurt? Why can’t I carry on like I used to?” tears flowed freely again.


“Your strength”, Macnayer said, brushing away a loose hair. “It belongs to me now.” He carried her down the hall back into the bed chamber. “I felt your heart when you saw your escape, I feared you would run and I brought every last bit of your stamina into myself. I will not lose you my little one. For you are far too precious to me.”


Raven felt her heart sink. “I wouldn’t have left.” She said half heartedly


“You would though. I can still feel the rebellion in you still, but not for much longer my dear. I will break you soon, and then leaving my castle will seem blasphemous.”


They were in the bedchamber once again. Raven felt as if she was far away in that moment. She waited for the feeling of the plush mattress folding around her body, allowing her to escape once more into the dark depths of unconscious. But he didn’t place her on the bed as she had hoped, instead, still holding her in his arms they carried on through to another room, connected to the bedchamber and Raven’s eyes went wide her jaw hanging slightly ajar.


Macnayer’s ancestors had been famous for their sadistic ways, for after all his oldest known blood relative had been born of Lilth, queen of the demons. It appeared that through the ages nothing had changed about their ways, though the contraptions had gotten better, and could illicit cries of pain and pleasure quicker and with more ease to the wielder.


Raven felt her insides churn as she gazed about the room. The walls were stone, with hooks hanging from them which adorned a variety of contraptions she could not even begin to name. Manacles hung on a far wall, and there was a metal box in the opposite corner shaped like a cage but in such a way that whoever was trapped inside would have little room to move about. Raven felt her trust in Macnayer fading quickly and her desire to flee the castle renewed.


“Please…” She cried, turning her head away from the contraptions into Macnayer’s chest. “Not like this.”


Macnayer hushed her, stroking the long black hair, running it through his fingers as he moved into the room. “You would enjoy it my dear,” She said, studying the different items he had collected over the years, “There is so much to be had when pain and pleasure are intermixed, I saw it on your face last night, I know how much you enjoyed it.”


Raven would not deny that though fear still racked her form. Places such as this one had been the thing of nightmares not pleasant dreams. “I’m not ready, not yet.”


“But when will you be ready my dear? I am not a patient master you must understand, and you must learn your place, perhaps the quicker the better yes?”


Raven shook her head, “but not yet, not when I am still so weak.” Her breaths came in gasps, tears and emotions lodging themselves in her throat.


Macnayer sighed after a moment longer, “Then perhaps another day I suppose. But know when I break you, when I make you my slave, you will beg me for these things.” Though it was true he was not a patient master and expected the due best from his pets he would not force them. No, for with such a thing came resentment, and though he demanded that they feared him, he wished for them to love him as well. The trembling woman in his arms was no exception, though they had been enemies only a day before there was an attraction he felt to her that was unique from most of those he kept close. Perhaps she would be more than a plaything and a pet in time.


They turned and moved back into the bedchamber where Macnayer placed the tiny Raven into the lush pillows. She stared back at him, her face swollen from tears, her painted eyes, runny and raccoon like. He smiled and kissed her gently on the forehead. “I will never force you to do anything you do not wish so long as you heed my word my dear. On another day, perhaps after you have been here for a while we will venture into that room again and I will ask for you to trust me and I will show you pleasure and pain intermixed and you will love it and love me for it. Until then however, I pray you find these accommodations hospitable and my company most pleasing for until then I am but your humble servant.” He pulled a jar from his pocket and undid the tie on the robe, exposing her nude body.


He parted her legs and the heat returned to her again. Slowly and with tender care, Macnayer applied the medicine. Raven sighed as the sharp pain in her stomach subsided. She felt the weakness still present however and her head spun. Macnayer finished the application and leaned in. Their lips met for a moment and Raven cursed herself and her weakness. She wanted to lean into him, to kiss him deeper.


Raven smiled weakly, her eyes cloudy as she stared at him; sleep tugging at her, “When I am not so weak I wish for you to lie with me again. But for today I think rest is best suited to me.” The words tasted foreign to her and her body ached for his touch. But not yet, not when she could not enjoy the way if felt, not when she could hardly form sentences.


Macnayer nodded and rose from where he was resting. “So it shall be, pleasant dreams to you my little one.” He bowed deeply, which made Raven laugh lightly. He exited the room back into the hall where his court awaited him. Raven stared after the door for a moment longer her head swimming. She would not leave the castle for certain now, for the bitter winter that waited her outside was greatly unwelcoming. What was more, the few she still called friend would have little to do with her now that she had been defiled by their enemy.


Emotion wrenched her gut once more as she recalled those who had been sent back in pieces by the man who handled her so tenderly, with so much affection, who heeded her pleas for patience. Such an odd man he was, so unlike what she had imagined he would be. Had his ancestors all been like this? Had the world fallen away because of a charming smile? Raven thought it possible for the spell cast by those like Macnayer was she imagined enough to make even the most foreboding and moral warrior weak in the knees.


She curled into the pillows and pulled the heavy quilt around her form, sleep claiming her quick, her strength filtering back into her flesh. She would fear him yes, for that was what he wished. And the next time they entered into the odd chamber filled with the hundred different tortures she would trust the man she would soon call master.


A/N:
Hello all, I apologize for how very long it took for me to update this story. Life got very hectic when I began writing this the first time around and only recently have I had time to sit down and begin work on pieces that were somewhat um...abandoned. Though I hope once again to be able to update regularly you never know, you know? Things will take a much darker turn for Raven in the not too distant future as well as she become closer acquainted with her masters mage.