Beg Off [Closed] - Printable Version
+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Archives (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=72)
+--- Forum: Complete (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=84)
+--- Thread: Beg Off [Closed] (/showthread.php?tid=778)
+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Archives (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=72)
+--- Forum: Complete (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=84)
+--- Thread: Beg Off [Closed] (/showthread.php?tid=778)
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-28-2019
Ren considered this news. "I think," she said slowly, with the air of someone on the verge of a breakthrough, "that a lot of people don't ask you t'do things just cause they think you'll say no." She was very familiar with this logic, as she employed it daily with literally everyone around her but especially Gareth. She considered further. "Also it might be because you'd freeze whatever was on fire an' that only helps in real specific circumstances."
She was full and ready to complain about being required to walk right after being Extremely Sodomized, but then the King laced his fingers with hers. She had thought that the sensation would be ruined for her after he threatened to break her hand, but after the initial burst of fear, she found it did, in fact, still feel very nice. It was fine. He wasn't going to break her hand. He wasn't going to kill her right now. Everything was fine. She could enjoy this, if she just ignored everything else.
She let the King guide her through the woods, her legs screaming out a protest every painful step of the way. She wouldn't just be feeling this in the morning, she would be feeling this for the next week or two. Gareth was definitely going to notice her limping, and she was going to have to come up with an excuse. But the King pulled her closer, his arm around her waist, and it didn't matter. That was tomorrow Ren's problem. Today Ren was ignoring the paradox of big cruelties and small kindnesses that the King gave her, and just focusing on the way his body felt when it touched hers.
This was the second time she'd seen him transform. It was less dramatic than when he'd gone from man to human at the lake, but because of that, easier to see the details of what was happening. It hadn't been her imagination; he had been taller. She would miss the wings and scales both, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
He gave her back the pouch, filled now with lead coins that she couldn't explain having. "Thanks," she said dryly. Maybe she could poison the King's Guard with them if she ever decided to go out spitefully.
The sound of an explosion and a flash of light in the sky interrupted whatever she was going to say next. "Oh! Oh, they're startin'!" she exclaimed, stumbling forward and pulling on the King's hand. "Let's hurry!"
"The alternative," Bridget informed Declan, "is that you wear your clothes over a few loads of cum. I recommend just using your shirt, but far be it from me to judge. I guess it depends on whether you want to be waddling around dripping cum for the rest of the night, or just carrying around a shirt that stinks of sex." She shrugged. She was gonna have to take like twelve showers and brush her teeth tons of times to get the smell of Gareth's cum off her breath, and she hadn't even taken nearly as much of it as Declan had. He'd reek long after he stopped being able to smell it. "That doesn't count," she told Gareth, frowning. "You're not getting out of this, not when my legs feel like--" Whatever her legs felt like was interrupted by a deafening explosion in the sky, like canon fire. Bridget yelped loudly, hands going to her ears. Unfortunately, she had four ears and only two hands. There was another loud crack, and she collapsed onto her knees, panicked and in a considerable amount of pain. It was the lights in the sky that made her realize what the hell was going on.
"Fuck!" she yelled. "I got distracted by dick and the fucking fireworks--ow!" She tried to drop her hands from her ears to fumble around in her overall's pockets for her earmuffs, which she would have ordinarily put on by now, but a warning crackle from more, quieter fireworks, made her flinch with fear and cover her ears again. "Someone give me a hand!" she yelled, probably louder than she needed to. She probably wouldn't be able to hear them if they said anything in response. Her ears were ringing; the fireworks hadn't even started in earnest yet but each crack was equal parts painful and just plain terrifying. She was starting to shake.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-28-2019
The King allowed her to lead him out of the trees, into the open grass and the last of the fall wildflowers. The harvest moon was in the sky, round and alone. Elves were cheering and clapping with every large explosion.
Smaller rockets trailed upward and popped, following by more bursting spheres of gold and red and blue. They looked different from the ground. The larger explosions were always punctuated with smaller ones between, and they started to venture out from simple spheres. First the lights started to trail downward, and then to sparkle as they fell. Some burst into trailing points of light before those points burst a second time, a riot of colors all criss-crossing each other as they flew in different directions. Some never exploded at all, only shot upward and outward like comets aiming toward the sky in all the colors of the rainbow. Some seemed to dissolve in random directions, looking like fireflies. Others corkscrewed outward.
His favorite were the large golden ones, that trailed upward and then sent trails sparkling downward, looking like all the stars were falling from the sky to join him.
He trailed idle fingers over his scar.
![[Image: 4xkS9bq.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/4xkS9bq.gif)
Gareth, realizing what was happening, crouched beside her and pressed his hands over her second set of ears. Declan was frantically pulling his pants up.
"Check her pockets," Gareth said. His elbow was over her shoulder, holding her against his chest as best he could without his hands. His hope was that it was help her feel more secure, and stop her from shaking so much. Declan patted her down frantically until he found her earmuffs, holding them out to her. Gareth took his hands away when she was ready to put them on, holding her hair out of the way. He rubbed at her back as she got them adjusted.
"Are you okay?" Declan asked, worried. He still hadn't actually buttoned his pants.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-28-2019
Ren had never seen fireworks like this. Beautiful explosions in the sky, loud and chaotic, organized and brilliant. Ignoring her many aches and pains, she jumped and cheered as well as any of the elves. She had come so close to dying tonight, again. But she was alive, somehow, alive to be a riotous explosion of her own. One day, if she played her cards right. One day, if she just figured out the tangled knot her life had become.
Her body gave out before her spirit did, her legs giving out from under her. She crumpled to the ground, legs all akimbo, but still stared up at the explosion of lights and colors in the sky.
She wouldn't let the King's Guard stop her, or the King. She would work with them, if she had to, or outsmart them, if she had to, or outrun them, if she had to. She just had to find a way.
She watched from the ground, silent now, as the fireworks show crescendoed into an explosive finale, burning sparks raining in the sky brighter than a thousand falling stars. She stared up at the dark sky for a while longer, the moon hanging in the sky seeming dimmer than before.
People didn't ask the King things, because they just assumed he'd say no. Hesitantly, unsure of breaking his pensive-seeming mood, she decided to ask the King something.
"Yer Highness, can I stay somewhere else? Y'said y'didn't like my room, can you... Can y'let me stay somewhere else?"
Gareth's hands worked better than hers at muffling the sound, large as they were. She was still shaking, trembling violently against his chest, her tail tucked down tight between her legs. She could just handle the flashing lights on a good night. How could she have forgotten her goddamn earmuffs? How could she have let time get away from her-- Her earmuffs!
She snatched them from Declan all in a rush, only avoiding cutting him because she kept her nails--claws really--meticulously dull. She slammed them onto her head, adjusting them quickly. The world faded into a few dull thuds, like the sound of a box being dropped across the castle. She relaxed slightly, her shaking becoming less wild.
Declan was saying something. She couldn't read lips, so she tapped the earmuffs and shook her head. It should be pretty evident that she couldn't hear with these on, honestly. "I'll be fine," she said, too loudly. Despite that, she had latched onto one of Gareth's arms and pulled it around her as if she could use him as a blanket. She would rather not spend the entire fireworks show in a hay bale, and the only other option, as far as she was concerned, was the person currently holding her steady.
She pointed up at the fireworks, not wanting Declan to miss them out of concern for her well-being. She could sneak off to be humiliated later. For right now, the sky was raining fire, like it did every year. It was bright and beautiful and terrifying, and every year she fought her wolf so she could watch, no matter how stupid of a decision it was. She didn't like what she was taking things from her, so she found ways around them. The King helped. It had been his idea to have someone design earmuffs to cancel noise. It had been her idea to put the little golden dragon detailing on them.
She knew why she couldn't invite him; it would be patently unfair to Gareth, and it was important for her to have time for herself. She got to watch fireworks with him at his coronation parties, for a limited definition of "with." But one of these days, she'd like to have someone to hold her through the explosions who wasn't just doing it because they were the nicest person at the fair.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-29-2019
He looked down at where she sat on the ground, blinking in surprise. "I hardly see why not," he said. He didn't know why she hadn't asked sooner. It was like he'd said before: Gareth wasn't using his old room, and that one had a window and everything.
He was not aware that nostalgia may have warped his memories, made him forget certain aspects in favor of the things he'd liked, a soft comforter and a warm body and books stacked in the corners. The little carvings on the windowsill and the embroidery on the pillowcases.
The King whistled his chickadee-whistle again, and waited. Finally Baby came trotting across the field, taking his time, the enormous white bull still wearing his flowers. His bell clanged with his steps, and he stopped close enough that the King could pet him affectionately. The bull lowered his head to sniff at Ren, enormous pink nostrils flaring.
He picked up Ren, and threw her over the bull's back like a sack of flour. It seemed like it might be easier that way, if he was honest. There were worse things than lying on your stomach on the thick fur of an enormous bull. Like trying to straddle it after getting your insides rearranged. He pulled himself up onto Baby, settling in and ensuring they were both secure before urging the bull to start running.
Declan was still a little worried about her, and so he rested his hand over one of hers before looking back to the fireworks. That made him feel better about the whole thing.
Gareth held her securely, pulling her back so that he had a lap and she could sit in it. It was the easiest way to keep her pinned tight until the fireworks were over, and let him enjoy the show.
Ren probably would have loved this.
He sighed, resting his chin on Bridget's head.
When the show was over, he loosened his hold on her enough that she could free herself if she wanted. "Now I've really got to find that apple cart," he said, "before they pack up and leave me feeling like an idiot."
He was not aware that nostalgia may have warped his memories, made him forget certain aspects in favor of the things he'd liked, a soft comforter and a warm body and books stacked in the corners. The little carvings on the windowsill and the embroidery on the pillowcases.
The King whistled his chickadee-whistle again, and waited. Finally Baby came trotting across the field, taking his time, the enormous white bull still wearing his flowers. His bell clanged with his steps, and he stopped close enough that the King could pet him affectionately. The bull lowered his head to sniff at Ren, enormous pink nostrils flaring.
He picked up Ren, and threw her over the bull's back like a sack of flour. It seemed like it might be easier that way, if he was honest. There were worse things than lying on your stomach on the thick fur of an enormous bull. Like trying to straddle it after getting your insides rearranged. He pulled himself up onto Baby, settling in and ensuring they were both secure before urging the bull to start running.
Declan was still a little worried about her, and so he rested his hand over one of hers before looking back to the fireworks. That made him feel better about the whole thing.Gareth held her securely, pulling her back so that he had a lap and she could sit in it. It was the easiest way to keep her pinned tight until the fireworks were over, and let him enjoy the show.
Ren probably would have loved this.
He sighed, resting his chin on Bridget's head.
When the show was over, he loosened his hold on her enough that she could free herself if she wanted. "Now I've really got to find that apple cart," he said, "before they pack up and leave me feeling like an idiot."
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
Ren could have smacked herself. It seriously had been that easy?! For fuck's sake! But her irritation with herself couldn't outweigh her elation. "Thank you, yer Majesty!" she exclaimed, trying very hard not to tackle-hug him--probably inappropriate--or burst into tears--definitely inappropriate. What the hell, what the fuck, could it really be so easy? Just like that? All of Sir Colin and Gareth's talk about how dangerous she was and how she couldn't be allowed around the general population, and all she needed to fucking do was ask the King for a favor? She didn't even care if he did put her in his tallest tower. As long as he didn't lock her up there permanently, and remembered to feed her, it literally had to be better than where she was now.
She vibrated with excitement as the King's bull approached again. She didn't care where they went, as long as it was some place without Sir Colin and those awful guards. The bull snuffed at her face, nostrils flaring as they sucked in and blew out enormous amounts of air, hot cow breath in her face ruffling her hair. She hesitently held her hand out to gently pat his nose.
And then the King picked her up and threw her onto the Bull like a sack of potatoes, or a kidnapped bride. She made a confused noise of protest, her core aching the second it hit bull... But quickly realized how much worse it would be to straddle. If it had hurt before... She'd probably come flying off halfway through, honestly. She couldn't grip shit with her legs after the pounding she'd just had. She opted to not complain and just grip the bull's fur. The King climbed on right behind her, and settled a hand onto her back, and she at least trusted him not to let her come flying off. The bull started running, and she found she had to close her eyes. The sight of that much ground passing that quickly was going to make her sick.
It wasn't an unpleasant way to end the night, tight in someone's lap with someone else holding her hand. She wasn't much of one for post-coital intimacy with people other than the King, who she suspected did it out of a sense of obligation more than anything else, but she'd make an exception this time. At least until the nausea and shakes faded. Once the fireworks were over, she wiggled out of his grip, embarrassed, although she didn't stand up right away. She wanted to leave her earmuffs on; the way the world was muffled down to barely any sound at all was a soothing balm on her anxiety. Also, her ears still hurt. But she pulled one slightly to the side, so she could at least hear what was being said.
"I know where it is. C'mon, I'll take you there. You can see if Buck is still there and I can..." Well, she could grab an apple, she supposed, but she didn't feel much like eating fruit. It just wasn't ever as satisfying as it seemed like it ought to be.
Finally standing, she wobbled a bit, before grabbing Gareth's hand to lead him to the cart. It occured to her, literally right before she walked off, that she should say something to Declan and not just leave him sitting there drenched in cum. What to say, however, she had no clue towards. She wound up giving him a probably-awkward wave. "Thanks for the orgasms; see you around," and left, half-dragging Gareth off towards the apple cart.
He wasn't right at the front, but a strong inhale picked up what she remembered of his scent, and she found him packing up uneaten apples around back.
"Grandpa Buck?" she asked, and fortunately he looked over, pausing in what he was doing. "This is Gareth, he was looking for a Grandpa Buck. Hopefully you."
"...Little Bree, is that you?" he asked, blinking. "Oh, you've gotten so tall!"
Bridget flushed. Right, she'd been a teenager when she met him. Clouds, good thing she hadn't been a child or this would have been an awkward conversation, explaining the tail and all.
"Heh, yeah, humans grow fast. Shame I didn't get as tall as this guy, though," she gestured towards Gareth with a thumb.
Buck turned his attention to Gareth, grinning. "Now what could ya be lookin' for lil old me for? Especially now that I'm a happily married man," he added with a sigh.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-29-2019
Declan stayed on the ground, looking a little dazed as they retreated. "Right," he said, just as awkwardly. "Bye."
"You know where to find me," Gareth said with a wink as they left, leaving Declan flustered.
Gareth let Bridget pull him along, and resisted the temptation to make bloodhound jokes. He also didn't tease her about the earmuffs. Even if they looked very funny now that the fireworks were over, and she was just walking around with big lumps on her head.
"Thank you, Bree," he murmured, before turning his attention back to the elf. Couldn't really be offended about the married bit, considering what he'd just been up to. Married! That would explain it, right?
"I had a friend asking after you back in the capital," he explained vaguely. "Promised I'd make sure you were doing okay. I'm guessing marriage has something to do with why you haven't been in town for a while?" He looked over the apples that were left. "I don't suppose I could get a couple of those packed up for the road?" he asked.
Good. This was good. He could report back with good news and possibly gifts of candied apples, to join the basket he already had.
He wanted to try and ask about her—see if he remembered a girl with trinkets and rats. But he got the feeling that whatever he found out would only depress him. Better to let her tell her own stories, whenever she felt ready for it.
"You know where to find me," Gareth said with a wink as they left, leaving Declan flustered.
Gareth let Bridget pull him along, and resisted the temptation to make bloodhound jokes. He also didn't tease her about the earmuffs. Even if they looked very funny now that the fireworks were over, and she was just walking around with big lumps on her head.
"Thank you, Bree," he murmured, before turning his attention back to the elf. Couldn't really be offended about the married bit, considering what he'd just been up to. Married! That would explain it, right?
"I had a friend asking after you back in the capital," he explained vaguely. "Promised I'd make sure you were doing okay. I'm guessing marriage has something to do with why you haven't been in town for a while?" He looked over the apples that were left. "I don't suppose I could get a couple of those packed up for the road?" he asked.
Good. This was good. He could report back with good news and possibly gifts of candied apples, to join the basket he already had.
He wanted to try and ask about her—see if he remembered a girl with trinkets and rats. But he got the feeling that whatever he found out would only depress him. Better to let her tell her own stories, whenever she felt ready for it.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
"Don't even dream of starting," she hissed back quietly. Just because he'd given her a very good orgasm didn't mean he could get that familiar. Well, as long as he kept to their unspoken rule of never discussing the bullshit they got up to at the fair once they were at work, it should be fine. She'd be miserable if he got like all her boyfriends always did, all presumptuous like fucking made them entitled to more of her. She liked him, and that always ruined everything. "Oh, these humans," Buck said with a laugh. "You leave for a few years and they act like you've died. Yeah, you can tell 'em I settled down on an apple farm like the ol' besotted fool I am." He was already packing a few candied apples in brown paper. "Taking a gift basket back home for someone?" He seemed very amused by the concept.
"I'm gonna go hunting," Bridget decided. The food carts were already packing up, and she didn't want to go back to the castle yet. Yes, she was drunk, but if anything, that just gave the animals a sporting chance. Still, she'd better run pretty far into the woods to make sure she didn't run into anyone from the fair. It didn't matter where she wound up; she could always find her way back to the castle. And she always took the day after the fair off, unlike Sir Workaholic, who possibly didn't have to deal with hangovers. "You good, Gareth?" She was already stretching out, ready to shift for the last time that night and find herself a deer or something.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-29-2019
"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear you're doing well," he assured Buck. "I told them they were worrying too much."
"Yeah," he said, with a smile of his own as he accepted the wrapped apples. "She couldn't make it this year," he said wistfully. "I think she'll like it. A little taste of… home." Something like home. A home she didn't have. "Thanks so much."
Gareth looked her over. "You might want to take off your…" He tapped at his ear to indicate the earmuffs still on her head. "I'm good," he said. "See you at work, Lady Corey." He didn't see her often enough for it to be awkward, and anyway, she seemed better than some people at compartmentalizing. He'd have to remember not to get too handsy with her when he did see her, but he didn't think it'd be hard once she wasn't trying to wrestle with him.
He wandered toward the cart where he'd left his gift basket for safe-keeping, and tucked the candied apples inside. He whistled for Nighthoof, who took his sweet time trotting over. Fly amanita were sprouting in his wake. "Hey, Nighty," Gareth said, patting the elk's side. He wrapped the basket up securely before attaching it to one of his saddlebags. "Let's see about taking that trebuchet apart, yeah?"
They made it back to the castle in good time, back to the wall where they'd jumped over before. This time the King didn't have a cloak to conceal her under, but he supposed he didn't need to. He pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest. Once again he leapt over the wall, though he was less careful going into the castle than he'd been going out of it. This late, they could have been anywhere, and at any time. Being spotted now wouldn't throw up any obvious alarms—no one would see them and think, ah, obviously those two have been to the fall festival fair.
Because he was being less cautious, he took a different route in than the one they'd taken out, the one he'd used to take. He opened the old door, into the old room with its worn bedspread and embroidered pillows. Light filtered to the window and revealed that it was covered in dust, though he didn't much notice. He set her down inside.
"You can tell them that I visited you, if you'd like," he informed her. She'd have to explain why she couldn't walk somehow. "Just don't tell them where we were, or I'm going to be very cross with you." He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth before she could say anything back, and then he shut the door.
There weren't carvings on the windowsill anymore. There were some still hidden under the floorboards, in all the hiding places the King had never known about, next to tainted bottles of moonshine and arcane tomes and the occasional book of romance. Journals and carving kits and secret stashes of herbs, needles and thread and bloodstains in the wood beneath the bed.
"Yeah," he said, with a smile of his own as he accepted the wrapped apples. "She couldn't make it this year," he said wistfully. "I think she'll like it. A little taste of… home." Something like home. A home she didn't have. "Thanks so much."
Gareth looked her over. "You might want to take off your…" He tapped at his ear to indicate the earmuffs still on her head. "I'm good," he said. "See you at work, Lady Corey." He didn't see her often enough for it to be awkward, and anyway, she seemed better than some people at compartmentalizing. He'd have to remember not to get too handsy with her when he did see her, but he didn't think it'd be hard once she wasn't trying to wrestle with him.
He wandered toward the cart where he'd left his gift basket for safe-keeping, and tucked the candied apples inside. He whistled for Nighthoof, who took his sweet time trotting over. Fly amanita were sprouting in his wake. "Hey, Nighty," Gareth said, patting the elk's side. He wrapped the basket up securely before attaching it to one of his saddlebags. "Let's see about taking that trebuchet apart, yeah?"
They made it back to the castle in good time, back to the wall where they'd jumped over before. This time the King didn't have a cloak to conceal her under, but he supposed he didn't need to. He pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest. Once again he leapt over the wall, though he was less careful going into the castle than he'd been going out of it. This late, they could have been anywhere, and at any time. Being spotted now wouldn't throw up any obvious alarms—no one would see them and think, ah, obviously those two have been to the fall festival fair.Because he was being less cautious, he took a different route in than the one they'd taken out, the one he'd used to take. He opened the old door, into the old room with its worn bedspread and embroidered pillows. Light filtered to the window and revealed that it was covered in dust, though he didn't much notice. He set her down inside.
"You can tell them that I visited you, if you'd like," he informed her. She'd have to explain why she couldn't walk somehow. "Just don't tell them where we were, or I'm going to be very cross with you." He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth before she could say anything back, and then he shut the door.
There weren't carvings on the windowsill anymore. There were some still hidden under the floorboards, in all the hiding places the King had never known about, next to tainted bottles of moonshine and arcane tomes and the occasional book of romance. Journals and carving kits and secret stashes of herbs, needles and thread and bloodstains in the wood beneath the bed.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
They arrived at the castle, which wasn't a surprise. He carried her through corridors she didn't recognize, but she also didn't care. No matter where he was taking her, it pretty much had to be better than where she came from. The castle was quiet, at least of rat activity; she'd sent them all to ground when she'd left. It would take her a while to find new ones, to get word to Phoebe and Timothy and then the others. But she could settle in. It would be fine. That was, until she recognized the corridor.
"Wait. What? This is--" This was her wing, she could tell. Down and around the hallway, but this was where her cell was. "You, you said, you said that," she said, voice coming out high and tight and panicked. "A different--"
A different room. He'd given her a different room in the same fucking place.
She was dumbstruck. She felt like a complete and utter fucking moron. Of course he wouldn't just let her out of jail that easily! What had she been thinking?! Why had she thought she'd get a reward? For trying to run? Of course not! This was no reward, this was a punishment in a bow. He'd seen that she had stashes of things in her old room, plans for an escape, supplies she shouldn't have. Of course he wouldn't want her to stay there, with her carefully made secret compartment under the bed.
She was stunned as he kissed her, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't even say anything as he left. She stood exactly where he'd set her, as if she was a toy that had wound down. Then, after too long a moment, she rushed to the door and checked it. Locked. Of course, because all the doors on this wing had automatic locks from the outside. He could open it just fine to put her in, but the second he closed it, she was trapped. Panic rose in her throat, and she sank down to the ground, weak limbs shaking.
No, no, nonono... She was back here. She was back here, and her guards were going to find her room empty in the morning. She could tell them that the King visited her, fucked her stupid in someone else's room, left her here, and they might even believe her. But she didn't think so. More likely was that Sir Colin would hear about it, and she'd get the few rations she'd managed to steal back by being a good little slave taken away again. Her head spun and her stomach threatened to upend, but she refused to let it.
She wasn't sure how long she sat against the door, shaking and hyperventilating and crying, digging nails against her arms, rocking back and forth. It took her a long time to calm down even a little bit, and by the time she had sobbed all her fear out, her head ached as much as the rest of her.
She still had things on her she couldn't explain. And she'd have to start over. Fuck the King, fuck this stupid place. She crawled over to the bed, wriggling underneath it to start the process of tearing up a floorboard so she could hide her telltale clothes and coin purse. If they found her naked, it would only lend credence to her story. There were grooves in the wood under the bed, like someone had carved something into it with a knife. She could examine it later, when she had light to work with. As it was, she just felt around the floorboards for one she could use. To her shock, she found one already loose. She pulled it up, startled, and realized there was a compartment down there already. A very full compartment. Someone had been here before her, someone who was here no longer, and they had left quite a few things behind.
She pulled them out, pushing it all out from under the bed one by one. Books, mostly, but also... was that a knife? And needles and thread, and bottles full of a sloshing liquid. She pulled it all out and then shimmied out from under the bed, pulling her prizes over by the window so she could see better from the light of the moon.
Books of arcana? Romance novels? This looked like a diary of some kind. She had no idea what the herbs were, and the knife was small enough to be easily concealed. She uncorked the bottle and sniffed at it cautiously. She recoiled immediately. YEAH. Okay, she knew exactly what that was, because she'd just had it. This was a bottle of moonshine!
She shuffled through her new treasures. It wasn't as good as what she'd lost, but maybe she could have her rats bring some of her old stuff over, given time. Her half-finished tribute... She couldn't decide if she wanted it back or wanted to smash it into a thousand pieces. That wretched fucking King, how he always made her feel like she could survive and then wrenched it away last minute... He didn't deserve her hard work, her dedication. He didn't deserve to own her, when he'd done nothing to earn it but hurt her, again and again and again. When he'd just keep doing it, until she finally broke under Sir Colin's brutal punishments and gave up.
She slumped against the wall under the window. She was dreading the rising of the sun, dreading having to try and explain this shit to the guards. Gareth might not even come in tomorrow. He hadn't said anything about a day off, but he also hadn't said anything about taking a fucking half day until the day-of. He clearly didn't think she was worth taking into consideration. The thought of him made her heart ache hard enough that tears came back to her eyes, even though she'd thought for sure she was cried out.
This was the worst. This whole thing, everything that had happened in her life was just unbearable. She had been so close to having so many good things, and just made the wrong choices every single time. She had no doubt that this would be no different. She'd try and try and try to make the right choice and make the wrong one and lose. She was too useless to even know what the right thing to do was, ever.
Well, there was one thing she knew. She had a bottle of forget in her hand. The last time she'd had moonshine in any quantity, she couldn't remember what happened. Maybe if she drank it all, she would forget this whole wretched night. She kicked the other things back under the bed, back into the compartment. If she blacked out, it wouldn't be good to let them find any of her new things. She covered it back up, then she uncorked the bottle, braced herself, and chugged.
It burned badly enough that she couldn't get through all of it before she choked, coughing and sending burning alcohol up her stuffed-up nose. It hurt like burning fire, but she was almost glad for it. Right now, everything hurt and it felt like everything should. Her stomach churned in loud protest at the sudden addition of large quantities of alcohol, and her head began to spin right away. There, that... No. Wait.
Her head was spinning too much. Things hurt too much. This wasn't right. Something was wrong something... She thought immediately of the Guards' poisoned sandwiches. Rat poison? Something like it? She'd ingested it before but this felt worse, this felt bad, this felt like she might...
She fell over, shaking hand pressing into her mouth, back against her throat, again and again until she began to gag and then, finally, began to vomit, chunks of the evening's meals and the clear liquid she'd just ingested. But it wasn't enough, and it wasn't fast enough, and her vision was going black.
She collapsed down onto the ground, curling up into an agonized little ball. What... what a stupid goddamn way to die.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-29-2019
Gareth rode into the castle the next day with a basket hanging from his elbow, eager to bring Ren the news. What he found instead was Colin waiting near the stable. He was immediately struck with anxiety as he dismounted. Colin was usually only here in the evenings.
He didn't much care for Colin, but he rarely saw him. Colin hadn't done much since joining the King's Guard to earn the discomfort Gareth felt around him. Maybe he was only a reminder. One of few people left who remembered the old king, remembered Randaghast, remembered what Gareth had been.
Which wasn't necessarily fair, when the mere fact of his staying suggested he'd been as much Ranulf's victim as anyone else. Aside from Gareth, anyway. Gareth would talk himself down from many things, but not from the fact that he'd borne the worst of it.
"There was an incident," Colin said, wringing his hands. Gareth made him uncomfortable, too. It was obvious every time they had to be near each other, now that he didn't have a prince standing between them.
"Clarify," Gareth said, standing stock-still except for the tail lashing behind him. Colin flinched.
"Grilka," Colin said slowly. "She found Ren in the wrong room last night, I guess the rats… they got Grilka's attention. It looked like she drank poison." Gareth advanced on him, and stopped when Colin threw his arms up in front of his face. "She's okay!" he said quickly. "She's… well, she's stable, anyway. Grilka got her to the hospital wing."
Gareth tried to focus on his breathing so he wouldn't shake Colin until his neck snapped. "How did this happen?" he asked finally.
"We really don't know," Colin said. "Grilka said it seemed like someone had… been to see her. While you were away. Maybe the King, I don't know." Gareth's fists clenched. "The other room wasn't far from hers, Dr. Karek said it seemed like some kind of nightshade infusion."
Gareth's blood turned to ice. "Was it…" But, no. He didn't even need to ask. Where else would she have found that? "Why was she in that wing?" he demanded instead, advancing on Colin as he retreated. No one was supposed to be in there anymore. It was supposed to be for storage, using only less isolated rooms for the dorms.
"We didn't know what else to do with her!" Colin said helplessly. "The rats—they were getting everywhere. We asked her to stop, but it didn't seem fair to everyone else. Letting rats get into their things. She never wanted to socialize anyway, so we thought—it seemed like the best option. There are so many rats."
Gareth stopped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. If someone had told him, he could have had a talk with her sooner about the rats. Keeping them out of other people's rooms. Making more of an effort to be social. Anything. But it wasn't fair to expect them to know that, when they'd tried talking to her already and she hadn't wanted to listen. He knew firsthand how hard it could be to get her listening.
"She's in the hospital wing, then," he said finally. Colin nodded, and Gareth pushed past him to head there.
Gareth sat next to her bed, the basket he'd brought sitting forgotten by his feet. He wanted to touch her, but he was also scared to touch her.
Logically, she'd been bored and thought she'd found liquor.
He couldn't shake the fear that Avi had done something stupid, and she'd gone and poisoned herself afterward.
He wouldn't. Avi wouldn't have. Not like that, not like—
If she'd agreed to something she shouldn't have, maybe. Something she regretted. If he'd said something in the heat of the moment that she'd taken to heart.
She looked so pale.
He touched her hand, just a little.
He didn't much care for Colin, but he rarely saw him. Colin hadn't done much since joining the King's Guard to earn the discomfort Gareth felt around him. Maybe he was only a reminder. One of few people left who remembered the old king, remembered Randaghast, remembered what Gareth had been.
Which wasn't necessarily fair, when the mere fact of his staying suggested he'd been as much Ranulf's victim as anyone else. Aside from Gareth, anyway. Gareth would talk himself down from many things, but not from the fact that he'd borne the worst of it.
"There was an incident," Colin said, wringing his hands. Gareth made him uncomfortable, too. It was obvious every time they had to be near each other, now that he didn't have a prince standing between them.
"Clarify," Gareth said, standing stock-still except for the tail lashing behind him. Colin flinched.
"Grilka," Colin said slowly. "She found Ren in the wrong room last night, I guess the rats… they got Grilka's attention. It looked like she drank poison." Gareth advanced on him, and stopped when Colin threw his arms up in front of his face. "She's okay!" he said quickly. "She's… well, she's stable, anyway. Grilka got her to the hospital wing."
Gareth tried to focus on his breathing so he wouldn't shake Colin until his neck snapped. "How did this happen?" he asked finally.
"We really don't know," Colin said. "Grilka said it seemed like someone had… been to see her. While you were away. Maybe the King, I don't know." Gareth's fists clenched. "The other room wasn't far from hers, Dr. Karek said it seemed like some kind of nightshade infusion."
Gareth's blood turned to ice. "Was it…" But, no. He didn't even need to ask. Where else would she have found that? "Why was she in that wing?" he demanded instead, advancing on Colin as he retreated. No one was supposed to be in there anymore. It was supposed to be for storage, using only less isolated rooms for the dorms.
"We didn't know what else to do with her!" Colin said helplessly. "The rats—they were getting everywhere. We asked her to stop, but it didn't seem fair to everyone else. Letting rats get into their things. She never wanted to socialize anyway, so we thought—it seemed like the best option. There are so many rats."
Gareth stopped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. If someone had told him, he could have had a talk with her sooner about the rats. Keeping them out of other people's rooms. Making more of an effort to be social. Anything. But it wasn't fair to expect them to know that, when they'd tried talking to her already and she hadn't wanted to listen. He knew firsthand how hard it could be to get her listening.
"She's in the hospital wing, then," he said finally. Colin nodded, and Gareth pushed past him to head there.
Gareth sat next to her bed, the basket he'd brought sitting forgotten by his feet. He wanted to touch her, but he was also scared to touch her.
Logically, she'd been bored and thought she'd found liquor.
He couldn't shake the fear that Avi had done something stupid, and she'd gone and poisoned herself afterward.
He wouldn't. Avi wouldn't have. Not like that, not like—
If she'd agreed to something she shouldn't have, maybe. Something she regretted. If he'd said something in the heat of the moment that she'd taken to heart.
She looked so pale.
He touched her hand, just a little.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
The world was black. This wasn't to say there was nothingness, because nothingness implied a lack of awareness, and Ren was, if nothing else, Aware. But it was unclear on what level, when she didn't seem to be able to see, or hear, or smell, or feel. Was time passing, or was she suspended? There was nothing around her, only her own sentience, stranded in a void.
There, in the distance. A sound, like the roaring of wind in a storm or the sound of waves breaking on the rocks of the Great Lake. If she focused on it, could she head that way? It seemed to be getting louder, although she had nothing else to orient herself and understand if she was moving.
A light! There, in the distance, the barest pinprick of light, casting the nothingness into shades of grey, like the ash-paint art she'd drawn on her walls.
Oh, wait. In situations like this, you weren't really supposed to go towards the light, were you? Besides, she'd never liked the sunlight, anyway, or hadn't until she'd had it taken from her, preferring dark corners where no one could see her. She was happier there. With a mental nod to herself, she turned away from the light, and headed back towards the roaring of the ocean in the inky blackness.
The first thing Ren became aware of was that everything hurt. And she did mean everything. She was suspended in a sea of pain; she couldn't even tell what was hurting, just that it was. She opened her mouth, as if to scream, but nothing came out.
Oh! She had a mouth! That was progress! That implied she had a head, a definite step up from... oh... had that been a dream? It must have been a dream. She cracked open one eye. The light was blinding; here she thought she'd gone away from it. But in that light was a blurry shape, red and brown and... She blinked repeatedly, other eye opening. Her vision slowly focused.
"Gareth?" she said, and found herself surprised she could speak. Her voice sounded like the cracking of dead wood. She cleared her throat, but it didn't really help. "Gareth," she repeated. She felt what she thought was his hand on hers, and was able to move enough to grab at his fingers, although her grip was comically weak. "I never been happier to see you in my life."
Presuming she was still awake and this wasn't hell, which was entirely possible. But she felt like only real life could hurt this much.
"Where are we?" she creaked, eyes glancing around what she could see. She didn't feel up to moving her head yet. She didn't recognize where they were, it seemed... too clean to be in the King's Guard.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-29-2019
It was probably wrong to be glad she was happy to see him. Still, it felt like confirmation that his worst fears hadn't come to pass. Just an accident, surely. A horrible accident. He held her hand tighter, careful not to squeeze too tight.
"Hello, Ren," he said softly. He held her hand with both of his, then, absolutely tiny in them.
"You're in the hospital wing," he explained. "Grilka brought you here last night. I assume Timothy went for help." He briefly stroked the head of one rat sitting at her bedside before holding her hand again. He rubbed it a little, trying to warm it a little more. He opened his mouth to make a joke about how he couldn't leave her for a second, but then he shut it again without a word.
He had a lot of questions he didn't want the answers to.
"How are you feeling?" he asked instead of any of them. "Do you need anything?" There wasn't much nearby, except for bedpans and pitchers of water and extra blankets. He didn't know if the doctor had done any spellwork on her, or if he'd deemed it too risky when they didn't know her origins.
"Hello, Ren," he said softly. He held her hand with both of his, then, absolutely tiny in them.
"You're in the hospital wing," he explained. "Grilka brought you here last night. I assume Timothy went for help." He briefly stroked the head of one rat sitting at her bedside before holding her hand again. He rubbed it a little, trying to warm it a little more. He opened his mouth to make a joke about how he couldn't leave her for a second, but then he shut it again without a word.
He had a lot of questions he didn't want the answers to.
"How are you feeling?" he asked instead of any of them. "Do you need anything?" There wasn't much nearby, except for bedpans and pitchers of water and extra blankets. He didn't know if the doctor had done any spellwork on her, or if he'd deemed it too risky when they didn't know her origins.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
"The hospital wing?!" That proved to be a bit too much excitement for her, and she winced. Her whole body felt like it had gone through a blender, and that light was really too much. What had happened? Had he fucked her into an actual coma?
No... wait.
Memories, disjointed and confusing, trickled through her mind. The King, that was right, had taken her to the fall festival. It was a secret. She'd tried to run, she'd been caught, she somehow survived... Ah, that was probably part of why she hurt so much. And then he'd taken her back to the castle, thrown her in someone else's cell, and... What had happened then?
"Grilka?" That didn't make any sense. "Timothy went to Grilka for help?" She glanced down at the rat, who looked scared. But all she felt from him, and from Phoebe, was relief. They had been scared... for her? Made sense, but what had happened? Had she gotten into the damned rat poison again?
Wait. Poison. A burning in her throat. The taste of bile. Had she actually drunk poison?
...Had it been an accident? It had probably been an accident, right?
"I feel like I got caught in a lab explosion and then run through a centrifuge," she admitted. "An' my heads all... fuzzy." She went over what she knew again, more slowly. She'd been in a strange cell. She'd been upset. She'd... she'd found something, that was right, she'd found something under the bed. The details were frustratingly hazy. She'd been upset, and scared about what Colin would do to her when she was found outside her cell, that much she remembered. She was pretty sure that wouldn't be enough to have her summoning a rat to bring poison... not right after she'd just escaped death at the hands of the King. Sure, she'd thought about it... and thinking about it now, poisoning herself enough that he couldn't even eat her corpse was definitely an option. If she was going to do that, though, she was pretty sure she would have poisoned everyone else first. Surely she hadn't been that upset?
It must have been an accident. She must have found something in that room that turned out to be poisonous. That fit with her nebulous memories, and was less upsetting.
"...Am I gonna be in trouble?" she asked, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - Tindome - 11-29-2019
"No," he said firmly. Gareth brought her hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it, which he hoped was reassuring. "You're not in trouble. It was…" He swallowed. "It was an accident," he said. The fact that she didn't seem to remember meant he wasn't sure if he believed it. He said it anyway. "You can stay here until you feel better," he assured her. "For as long as you need." He squeezed her hand again.
"You know…" He hesitated, the lower half of his face hidden by their hands. "If you don't want the King to… visit you. If you don't want anyone to touch you. You can tell me. You know that, don't you? I'll… there are things you don't have to do." He dropped his head, pressing his forehead against the back of her hand and blinking furiously. "I hope you know that."
He tried to catch his breath so he wouldn't burst into tears like a moron. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to know. Had Avi really gone down to see her? Why had she been in his old room? What else had she found there?
He couldn't imagine liking any of the answers.
"You know…" He hesitated, the lower half of his face hidden by their hands. "If you don't want the King to… visit you. If you don't want anyone to touch you. You can tell me. You know that, don't you? I'll… there are things you don't have to do." He dropped his head, pressing his forehead against the back of her hand and blinking furiously. "I hope you know that."
He tried to catch his breath so he wouldn't burst into tears like a moron. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to know. Had Avi really gone down to see her? Why had she been in his old room? What else had she found there?
He couldn't imagine liking any of the answers.
RE: Beg Off [Closed] - SolitareLee - 11-29-2019
Gareth seemed almost as shaky as she felt, but she appreciated the reassurance. She supposed poison was an unconventional way to avoid being whipped, but at least she had that as a silver lining. The next thing made her stomach drop, though. They knew the King had been to see her? Oh no. Oh no, he'd hurt her if they found out... but no, he'd said she could say he'd been to visit her, just not to let them find out that they'd left. Right? That had been what he'd said, she was pretty sure. How had they possibly guessed... Well, she supposed she'd probably had a pretty extensive physical when she'd been brought in. She probably showed certain... signs, and the bruises alone would be tell-tale enough even if she hadn't been found in cum-stained pants with no underwear and rope burns on her wrists. From there, it wasn't a far guess to assume it must have been the King. He might even have confirmed it.
"I should get an itemized list of those things I don't have to do," she joked, instead of giving a serious answer. Mostly because she could tell he was being serious now, but didn't believe it was something he could offer. He'd all but said he wouldn't stop the King from killing her. She didn't think stopping the King from doing anything at all was within his wheelhouse, or anyone's. "Here I been thinkin' I had t'do everythin' I was told."
She thought back again, but it was still fuzzy. "Some stuff, I think," she said honestly, frowning. "But it's... shaky. But I don't really remember... I think I drank something?" She found things, hidden in the room, she was pretty sure, but she didn't want to tell him that. She wanted to keep those things; they had looked important and she needed whatever she could get. "Sorry," she lied. "I think the King didn't like my room, an' took me somewhere else, and... but the rest is..." She shook her head, and found it made her very dizzy to do so. She remembered darkness and a void and an ocean. That couldn't be right. "The rest is all jumbled an' don't make sense. D'they know what happened to me?"