Limbo between Kings

Day 5 - The Hunt

Constant friction against her wrists from the binds left Olivia's skin raw and pulsing, a persistent reminder of her predicament. Though her hands were now free, she was a prisoner. Bound and gagged, stolen, drugged, and forced to comply. The desire to escape churned in her belly, hot with rage.

All her life she had been used for others’ benefit, even her brother had sold her for his advantage. A way to expand his kingdom. A bartering tool for his generals and nobles lords. She was a gift for them, thrown naked at their feet to be used as they willed.

"It's for the good of the country," Henry would say as she begged him to spare her, the pleas of mercy forever ignored while her cries for death remained unheard by the gods.

Olivia's skin was toxic against her fingertips, forever tainted by the hands of others.

She would never again allow her body to be used as a tool. The moment a chance arose she would make a run for the nearest village, however far it may be. Run for miles or days, she would not cease until she was free from her imprisonment, from Silas and her brother equally.

Olivia’s fingers tightened around the red welts, promising herself that she would escape. The dream of a small hut on the edge of her mysterious waterfall slipped into her anxious mind, it was the promise she was making, the goal she would accomplish.

A distance away, Silas rested carelessly on his back. A piece of jerky pinched between his fingers, his jaw twitching with every bite. How he could eat that rot impressed her. In the last few days she had spent with him she found that a cook, he was not. The dried jerky was to a point of no return, tasting like salt that had been thrown to dirt and scooped into your mouth.

Olivia had trouble disliking food, her years of near-starvation had taken any hint of pickiness from her tongue, but this, even she found hard to stomach.

Silas followed her eyes to the meat, stretching it her way, “Hungry?” He asked plainly.

“No.”

“Still being stubborn, I see?” He ripped off a piece, shoving it into his gullet. The audacity he had to take her unwillingness to submit as stubbornness made her head swirl.

“I’d rather gnaw my own hand off than eat that rancid thing.” Olivia’s nose turned up, ignoring the turning in her stomach. A leather boot tasted better.

“Suit yourself.” He mumbled with a full mouth, watching her sit against a log while his body was tucked softly on top of a leather sleeping hide. Did it bother him, watching her sleep like a stray dog in the rain while he relished in comfort?

Her body shook with anger and anticipation, a sensation she couldn’t avoid. It was now, she realized, finding herself unable to tolerate Silas' chewing and overly familiar banter. For this split moment, Olivia’s mind and body were in sync with her feelings, a rarity in itself, and if she let this feeling pass, her courage would pass with it.

If she ran fast, with enough of a head start, she could make it across the river where his horse couldn’t follow and run until she hit a farm or village.

She had a chance. A small chance.

Olivia’s hands slipped in the mud beside her, the heels of her feet kicking back against the log. The wind slapped her cheekbones, her body bolting forward, without daring to look back. Behind her was imprisonment, in front was the possibility of freedom.

She would never go back to her brother, neither would she be traded to this stranger king. Both options were a death sentence, one self fulfilled.

Olivia's still foggy and pounding head pulsed. The binds between her sore thighs shredded with each forced step, yet she pushed past the pain. The high of possibilities too enticing to ignore. How far ahead of him was she? Merely feet? Or had he yet to process what was happening? She hoped it was the latter, with all her spirit, she hoped.

Chancing a quick look back, she found the forest behind her empty, void of his presence. Staggering, Olivia turned to gather a better look. Nothing, not a glimpse of his figure in the distance. Was he letting her leave?

Slowly turning back in the direction of her escape, Olivia gasped, falling into a moss bed. Her eyes were frozen on the smug gaze of her abductor effortlessly leaning against the towering mushroom capped redwood. His feet crossed in front of him, his teeth ripping into the poorly tended jerky.

“You’re making a mistake,” he mused, their eyes remained locked, “This jerky is delicious, I really think you should try some.” Silas extended a piece in her direction.

‘Go Left,’ Olivia ordered her stiff body. Moss shredded beneath her hands and feet, the sound of his voice calling her in the distance pushing her forward, catching a glimpse of him from her right, pushing her even farther left. At this rate, she would circle back to the campground.

As if he possessed the ability to teleport, he appeared from beside a tree in front of her. Olivia slid to the ground to keep herself from slamming into his body. She refused to let him take her, to parade her infront of his King, who's intention could be to sell her back to her brother.

“NO!” She screamed in frustration, kicking her leg towards Silas to keep him at bay. Couldn't he just leave her in peace? Couldn't everyone ignore her existence and let her be free?

“Are you done?” He took a half step towards her.

Olivia pulled herself to stand, her eyes scanning the best possible direction to head. Left would bring her back to the campground, from there she could attempt to steal his chestnut IF it would follow her command. Knowing him, he trained it only to listen to him.

“Little beast, you’re not going to outrun me.” He chuckled, “Though I have to admit that this is pretty fun, like a game of cat and mouse, don’t you think?”

“Go fuck yourself.” Olivia turned left, ready to run on unstable legs until the morning broke.

Calloused hands gripped around her waist, pulling her feet from the ground, “You’ve got such a mouth on you.” He huffed into her ear.

A scream built in her chest, bellowing out from her like a warhorn. A deep breath in and she screamed louder than before, hoping a passerby would hear her. With Olivia’s mouth agape Silas took his opportunity to place a gag, shoving it so far she choked against it. Her legs flailed every direction, kicking his shin and aiming towards his manhood.

“Enough,” Silas warned, his demeanor not one to argue with. Had the gag not been shoved nearly to her throat she would have done just that, regardless of his tone.

Holding her panting body tight with his torso, Silas whipped a thick piece of twine from within his trousers. The braided rope dug into Olivia’s raw wrist skin, burning her desire to escape deeper into her core. This wouldn’t be her only moment, she promised, she would try a thousand times and within one of those, she would succeed.

Olivia tapped at her throat with her bound hands, symbolizing a need for immediate air, the cloth refusing to let her breath pass through.

“Give your word that you won’t scream, and I’ll take out the gag.” Silas carefully lowered her restrained body to the ground, turning her to face him.

Peering into his eyes with enough hatred to light him afire, Olivia nodded her head.

Silas’ too large finger’s released the dry cloth from her parched mouth. A flurry of cough’s accompanied it. Olivia continued to force the overexaggerated cough’s out, dropping to her knees before his towering body, feigning a desperate need for air. She wanted him close, she wanted him to feel some measure of pain.

Once his face was at her level, Olivia slammed her forehead into the bridge of Silas’ nose, snapping it like a dried twig. The warmth of blood trickled down her eyebrows, blurring her vision, a smug smile resting on her muddied face. She felt like a warrior, capable and strong, fighting against a giant of lore.

Standing over Silas, Olivia watched as the blood leaked from his pinched fingers before turning to sprint away. A sharp pain pulled her back by her now bleeding wrists, knocking her to the soft ground.

'What the fuck?' Olivia cursed in her throbbing head. Glancing at the rope binding her hands, she found it had a tail, her eyes followed it behind her, to the recovering brute, and noticed the twine was fastened around his waist. His lips held a bloodied smile, his hand gripping the loose rope playfully.

“Feral thing.” She heard him mumble to himself.