Unexpected

Chapter 4: Innocence Lost


The squalid man, called Snakes, hadn’t looked strong but the grip on her conveyed different. As the man forced her to follow the blond, yanking her hair when he felt the slightest resistance, something dreadful began crawling its way back into memory. With some faces of the men they passed, she saw flashes. Hands. Dirty faces. Kera flinched; whether from the pain inflicted by Snakes or the visions she didn’t know.

They reached the blond’s tent, and Snakes shoved her through the canvas flap; Snakes remained outside, obviously the watchman for whatever the blond had planned.

“Well, well, Miss Yaever. Alone at last,” spoke the blond from somewhere; Almasy.

Inside was darker; the light that barely shone through the canopy of the forest nearly failed to make its way into the temporary shelter. The silhouette of the blond was covered mostly in shadow, and the green tint of the canvas miserably reflected whatever light it could within. “What do you want, Mister Almasy?” She hoped she sounded firm.

He walked over to what appeared to be his sleep area where a few flimsy bed rolls stacked; there happened to be a vague yet broad streak of light that hit the area. He pulled off the grey vest he’d outfitted ahead of the hair band that had held his straight waist-long hair together in a flat ponytail; Kera had to admit the blond almost passed for a butch woman given the obscure surroundings. The blond paused as he bent over to retire, and twisted his head in her direction. In the mixed lighting, his eyes glimmered something odd before he sighed and sat in the middle—on top of the bed pile to let the full ray of misty light fall upon him. He crossed his legs and pulled them in, sighing once more before his eyes closed to hide his crystal-greens. His long golden hair had neatly settled behind his broad shoulders, hanging at his back; only a few strands of long bangs hung before his yet handsome face.

The blond almost looked peaceful.

In the next silent moments the blond took resting, she searched within the dark for any potential weapon. She wondered at the man’s blade’s location. Maybe it was in the long red case that lay at the end of tent, across from the blond.

“Ready, Miss Yaever,” the question suddenly came.

She watched him suspiciously. “I…don’t understand.” Kera hadn’t moved from near the exit.

“Come here,” the blond said.

“Why? What do you want?” The dread she sensed only minutes before had returned and told her to stay away.

His eyes snapped opened and he simply turned to stare at her. “Look, princess,” he stressed the designation. “I don’t have time to waste. You’ll come here or I’ll come get you.”

The words froze her to her spot and she realized her mistake when annoyed vindication flashed in the man’s eyes. Immediately he stood and strode to her with a few quick strides. She was beyond terrified as her fate dawned on her. The blond roughly grabbed her by the arm to swing her around, and, when she remained unresponsive, he smacked her. Hard. She crashed onto the dirt floor pathetically and felt warm wetness escape from her mouth. She looked to her hand. Blood. The blond did not wait to let her recover from her shock when he walked her way, heaving her up. He jerked her toward his sleep area, and harshly threw her on his pile of bedrolls before instantly covering her body with his.

“No! Please stop!”

She squirmed and attempted turning her head away, but he callously wrenched it back. The blond’s hair curtained their faces, and a painful kiss collided with her lips and teeth before a tongue thrust its way through her pitiful pleas and down her throat, causing her to gag. A muscled leg forced her thighs open, and she clawed into his flesh, but he straight away retaliated, striking her again. A rough hand violently tugged at her leather pants; the blond was horrifyingly strong when he ripped the fabric open and ruthlessly pulled it from her legs to discard. As one hand gripped her face to continue licking and slathering it, the other returned to press hard against her private area, roughly massaging into her groin.

“Nmmph…!?”

He fingered her painfully before he yanked down his own pants. He was hard and before she knew, one hand had held one of her thighs still. He shoved his himself inside her.

“Help me,” she cried brokenly, but no one came.

The blond had stopped his kissing and resumed pumping into her as he hooked her legs by his biceps and shoulders. She miserably damned herself at her body’s slowly growing stimulation past all the pain.

“You know…you…love this,” he hissed, stroking her deeper and faster. As she almost reached climax, the blond slightly groaned, coming, and on end pulled out; she was left hanging.

Ultimately defeated, Kera lay still when the blond moved off her. Her mind lapsed until he grabbed a fistful of her hair. “Stop. Please,” she cried again, devastated. As tears streamed down her face, the blond stared, sated though dubious, at her.

“We could have done it the easy way, but you had to be a weak little bitch. I hate weak little bitches,” he sneered. “They suck and you’re going to suck this cock and enjoy it.”

“Burn in—”

Almasy struck her again. She felt the broken tooth in her mouth—let it roll in her mouth along with the puddle of gathered blood a bit before feebly spitting it all out. Her tears had stunted at the blow. Gone now, she instinctively opened her mouth when the blond presented his dick.

~<>~

He hoped nothing had happened to the princess, but couldn’t help his incompetence eating at him, condemning him.

He was out of practice, and had been out of practice for a long time. Had marriage and a child become an excuse? His status a plain crutch in answer to his ineptitude now? The answer made him want to shoot something. Maybe himself.

He’d failed the princess.

He heard keys jangling at the gate. “Move it, lady.” The redhead had brought the princess back. She stumbled weakly into the cell, before collapsing deplorably to lie still on the dirt ground.

“Miss…are you…?” He mentally shook himself before he could ask the obvious. “What happened…?” He tried repressing the almost dread that had been latent for the moment now. He hated the feeling.

Worthless doubt that hinged on lame concern, and wavering helplessness.

The princess didn’t answer. Her eyes were open, but she showed no sign of awareness. Her cheeks were deeply bruised, her lips bloodied. The contusions on her arms. She had on different clothing… a grey t-shirt that was too large and extremely baggy black sweatpants.

His breath quickened, his heartbeat increased, eyes wide in unwanted realization. “Miss…Kera,” he spoke her name for the first time, uncaring anymore for his sense of self. He thought he’d seen it all.... He refused to believe that concern was a weakness…that made him a ‘pansy’. He refused to be any less caring just because the princess was a stranger. Deep down, he discovered that the princess was in fact just that: a stranger. But her tribulation was.... Far from commonplace, he did have the ability to sympathize, and what surged in him now…

The blond would die.

Seifer Almasy, ex-sorceress knight was no better off without his lapdog assignment. If anything was fair, the blond, now a simple monster, should have fallen with his dark queen years ago.

On a last thought, he wouldn’t touch Kera. He’d only ever heard of cases like the princess’s, never expecting to be confronted with one; all the victims had been delusional afterwards.

The cell door creaked again and he looked.

The blond.

~<>~

He stepped into the holding cell and watched the brunet carefully bent over the princess. He sneered.

Leonhart looked up.

“So how does it feel to be the cause of her suffering?” How he enjoyed the upper hand.

Leonhart glared.

“You know. I thought you’d try harder this time around. Just look at the woman.” His eyes switched from the brunet’ s glar the the wretched body still unmoving and back. “Henh. She’s fucking hot, smarter,” he decided, “and she’s a princess,” his arms flared, teasing.

The brunet warily stared at Hyperion in his hand. Seifer smiled deviously. “Now Rinoa was a nasty lay compared—”

Leonhart lunged for him.

“Not so fast!” He’d fixed Hyperion at the murderous brunet’s throat, and grabbed his shirt.

“You fucking son of a bitch,” his long-time ex-rival hissed, fi, th, the brunet face’s contorting. He rHe returned the sickened expression. “Yeah,” he laughed, bitter. “I know you wanted to bang the whore first, but tough. And now you’re jealous you didn’t get Miss Yaever first, too,” he lied; the princess’s virtue had been destroyed long before. “My heart really goes out to you,” he mocked as he caressed Leonhart’s cheek; the brunet viciously snatched his face away. Years earlier before the war, Seifer would have used ‘Squally boy’ as acentcentive for his own games, but he’d moved beyond that. Nonetheless, he still knew which buttons to push, though he didn’t care much for that further either.

He found the angry brunet staring at him strangely. “You need help Almasy,” came the somber statement, and Seifer suddenly had to take mentment. Getting it, he sneered once more, disgusted. “Henh. You’re really funny.” He should have expected the brunet’s way of thinking. “Get over it Leonhart, though I highly doubt you had much to get over.” His initial assumption turned perverse and he snickered.

“So I’m guessing you’ve been doing this for the past half decade,” Leonhart said, knowing.

The brunet narrowed his eyes in contempt before Seifer shoved him away, the brunet rending himself away at the same time. “None of your fucking concern.” Leonhart knew nothing. And as if he’d had a choice. But maybe the powers that be had given him a second chance. He thought Leonhart was the past, but lo and behold, one night not one night past was there Leonhart at his feet, soaked, injured, and pathetic...and he now had a ‘wife’. Rinoa; Leonhart had confirmed it.

Things would be fun again.

“What is your concern, however, is helping me return our little princess to her father.” Leonhart had never been more on time. With the brunet, plans had improved dramatically. The ruler of Zenurat wouldn’t know what hit him. And then the world….
“I dare you to defy me in any dire way and the lady dies.” He was having fun already; he never imagined he’d be so overjoyed by the brunet’s vulnerability; maybe he should have been thanking Rinoa Heartilly instead of ranking on her.

“….”

Yes.

Things would be fun again.


End4

a/n: hate our blond bishie yet? ;)