Sephtis

6. Singing for myself

A weight crushing my chest I scurry towards the stairs, eyes down cast and my bottom lip trembling. A hard, cold force slams into me. "Better watch where your going mutt." The sound of stone grating on stone was what Merikhs voice reminded me of, and like a stone I felt my heart plummet even further. " I hear you ran away, yet your here...did you miss me little mutt?" He stooped down, lifting my chin so I was staring straight at the evil twinkle that danced merrily in his eyes, making me swallow thickly. " Come warm my furs by the fire. " Merikh commanded, shoving past me and parading past Morag to roll out his lounging furs. A deathly scowl from the queen made my feet come unglued and I go over to Merikh's furs and crawl between them, keeping as much room between myself and him as possible. I can hear, or rather feel my heart whimpering, stuttering against my ribs and I can imagine myself crying in my sleep later. To comfort myself I begin to croon under my breath, very softly.
"Your singing will not sweeten your position here now." Morag mocks, placing the stew in the embers to heat for when her King returns, Merikh laughs as his mother continues, " We have no pain for you to ease you stupid slave. You are useless to us and tomorrow I will demand that you are sentenced for breaking the slave rules."
" I do not sing for you." I sign darkly, "I sing for myself. "
"It would be better to weep little mutt. " Merikh says, wrapping his cold hands around my upper arms and positioning himself above me, and even though Morag is only a few feet away, he begins his fun. A slimy forked tongue traces a cold path across my jaw, down my neck and into the valley between my breasts, biting roughly into tender flesh, I stay silent, knowing it was better then making a sound which I knew would only fuel the fire which would be burning deep in his gut. Unattractive, animalistic grunts fall from his lips as he releases one of my arms to tear away the fabric that shields my body from his hungry eyes and without warning he plunges into me savagely causing a wounded cry to slip through my lips as my insides feel as if they are torn into shreds, the feeling of shattered glass is grating across my insides, turning them to destroyed ribbons. His fingernails leave angry dark welts as he rakes them across my flat stomach, I know he wants me to cry, to scream or both because it turns him on, even more then the blood rising from the scratches he is carving into my body.

For as long as it takes for the sun to finish crossing the sky I lay there, broken on the furs while the red haired demon continues to break me, chipping away every ounce of my being as he rapes and taunts, Morag goading him on from her position by the fire. Both enjoying the blood that spills from my skin and between my legs, the whimpers that spill from my mouth are nothing but music to their ears.

Merikh finally releases me, pulling himself from my raw and bleeding opening as we hear grunting and shuffling outside the door.  Droug is home, the heavy doors fling open soon after this realization and he comes in with the cold twilight wind, limping and cursing, and leaning on a sturdy branch. His right boot is black with blood, and all this I see from where I am buried beneath Merihk's  still, cold form.
" I found her not. " The wingless fairy says, stumbling to the fire and sinking down beside Morag. His face is paler then normal and shines with sweat, and he breathes in short, heavy squirts. "I was followed by a bear, " he gasps hoarsely. " I wounded it, then fell down a rocky bank while I fled."
Morag kneels before him and draws off his fur-lined boot. He swears in agony before he continues, "The disadvantages to being a fucken old, wingless fairy, I heal just like those mortals down the mountains." His foot is drenched with blood, and unnaturally twisted. By the fires glow I see splintered bones protruding from the bruised and torn flesh.
Droug takes one look, and curses savagely. " By the gods, this is not a marching foot of a warrior!" He cries. "Go and get the healer Merikh, you dumb fox. And bring me ale, lots of it. You to woman! " He roars when he sees Morag's hands suddenly between his legs, his foot discarded. 
Morag scowls at me where I lay battered underneath the furs, almost as if she can hear the laughter in my thoughts, whilst Merikh rises to his feet in all his naked glory, " I will wake our healer, your highness. " he mutters, standing on my hand and grinding it into the floor with his heel.  Both Morag and Merikh flee the house when  Droug roars his frustration and pain again.  Once they are gone he sits grimly, contemplating his injured foot.
I pull myself onto my all fours, wincing as my insides twist with white fire and stale blood trickled between my legs as my flesh starts to knit itself together once more. I crawl till I am almost in front of him. He has covered his face with his hands, his blacked nails like multiple eyes, and he is groaning in pain.

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This is my first authors note so I would like to say hi. 

Now editing, fixing and rephrasing will be done once the story is completed and I apologize if you are finding it mis-jointed or boring.  I promise I will try to spice things up soon...but first gotta get this serious stuff out of the way. 

Questions or suggestions are welcome. 
Cheers
K