Creatures of The Dark

Chapter III

The room came in and out of focus, spinning. I couldn't wrap my head around what had happened though every part of my body shook and ached, burned from his touch. I wanted to cry, I wanted to rage...I wanted to kill him. In that moment, I wished more than anything I knew the Dark Lord's name, to put a name to the male I would kill. Move. Move Lucius. I knew I had to get up. I begged my body to get up.

The Dark Lord would only be gone momentarily. He had left to go clean himself up, leaving me in a pool of blood and misery. I scrambled for my clothes that had been scattered across the floor, my body screeching in protest. I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out.

The buttons had been ripped from the tunic, the waistline of the pants ripped, but I hauled them on with shaky hands anyway. I stumbled to the door. I knew he could hear me, but I would rather see the anger in his eyes when he saw I had left without being dismissed than the lust he would feel when he realized I had waited for him. It took all the strength I had left to haul the iron door open. Hot shame flushed my body as the guards looked up at me. It must have been obvious what had occurred in the Dark Lord's chambers: my clothes hung off me, ripped, and I was disheveled in every way imaginable.

They smirked, and I wondered if they had to suppress their laughter at my screams. I limped past them, glaring at the floor. Months ago the anguish I felt tonight would have caused me to burn bright with magic, but there was nothing, I was nothing. My veins were cobwebs where magic once flowed freely. The guards trailed me, they walked a couple of paces behind me until I reached my quarters. When I walked in, I heard the others shuffle away. One stayed behind, his breathing a ringing in my ears. I slumped onto the cot, resting my head against the cold filthy stone.

There was a numbness to the anger that I welcomed, my body a distant throb. I had no idea how late it was, but I knew sleep would not find me tonight. Every couple of seconds I had to look down at my skin to the phantom touch that lingered to ensure I was the only one in the room. I knew I would not survive that again, I couldn't. Varric was right, I would die in this castle. Every moment, I replayed the night's event. By the time I dragged myself out of the thoughts, they would surface again and again.

Dawn came and went. I did not get up for first bell nor the second. Hunger did not find me past the anguish. I was content to waste away until someone came to punish me. The guard that was stooping outside my door left by the fifth bell.

On the second day, it wasn't thoughts of the Dark Lord that scraped against my mind but those of my sister, my mother, my father. What would they think of me? Would they be proud I had fought to protect my sister, or would they wish I had stayed silent? I tried to reassure myself that I had been brave. I had known what those centurions had planned to do with Serana. I had rather it been me than her, but in the dead of night doubt found its way into my chambers. That was when I found sleep, or some twisted form of it. I felt no rest, only his cold touch.

The creaking of the door startled me awake. I clutched the thin quilt to my chest, sitting back until my scarred back hit the stone wall. I was surprised a new sort of numbness flowed through me when I saw Varric at the door, a sneer of delight on his disfigured face. I no longer felt any guilt looking at the dark fae's ruined face, he had more than returned the favor. He dragged a whip on the floor, his eyes glued to my face. Light from the hallway pooled across the floor, shadowing the Captain in a monstrous way.

"The king did a number on you," Varric said, gesturing to my bruised face. He merely chuckled at my lack of response. "You haven't been in the kitchen in two days." He walked sadistically slow into the room. "The king has not seen you in two days." I dragged my gaze from the trailing whip and glared up at him. If he was here to drag me to that demon of a king, I hoped he would beat me to death.