#abused whumpee

[jordanstrophe]

Caretaker watched the stranger deep asleep on their couch. They had no idea where whumpee came from, only they were on the side of the road in that awful storm. The power was out and they had no way to call for help.

They had wounds that weren't from the storm. They were man made and varied with different tools. It was nothing like caretaker had ever seen before...

Caretaker turned their back to light a candle when they heard a quiet thump behind them. They turned around to find whumpee off the couch against the wall trying to make their way to the door.

"Woah woah woah! You're in no condition to be up like that." Caretaker scolded. Whumpee stopped in their tracks, realizing they weren't alone. They shakily turned around with a wide-frightened gaze. Their knees slowly gave in as they sunk to the floor and stayed frozen.

Caretaker dropped to a crouch, feeling odd standing so tall over them. "I know you're hurt, so let's go back on the couch and see what we can do, okay?"

Whumpee tilted their head towards the door, listening to the crash of lightning and a downpour of rain. "How did you find me?" Whumpee spoke in a whisper.

"Luck." Caretaker shrugged, scooting an inch closer. "Did someone hurt you? Are you in some sort of trouble?" Caretaker asked.

"No." Whumpee spoke shortly. Caretaker knew that was a lie; but if that's what whumpee wanted caretaker to think to be comfortable enough to let them help, then so be it. 

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee shivers and shakes on Whumper's lap as they cling onto them. They have tears of pain in their eyes and the grip helps. Whumper shushes them and runs one hand through their hair. It's weaker than the normal pets because most of their attention is on the knife carving a name/initials/symbol into Whumpee's back.

[bilightningwhumper]

Trying something, let me know what you think. I'm not usually one to write in this format often, let alone this long (even if this piece is pretty short), so I'm a little rusty.

It's just a draft, so I'm welcome to any other suggestions the Examiner could ask the Whumpee before I put it in the "final" draft for Chapter One of my new story I'll be starting called "A Hero's Promise" (story of a ex-villian trans man whumpee joining a hero team with his ex girlfriend on it; semi-slow burn romance for the two; blurb coming soon-ish)

Anyway, here's the bit:

Assessment Interview for Former Company Member #5137

Tape begins

Examiner Sonia: For the record, this is an assessment for Company Member listed as number Five-One-Three-Seven. I, Examiner Sonia, will be conducting this interview. Now, young man, if you could please state your name for the record?

#5137: Boy, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: …Pardon me? Just… “Boy?”

#5137: Yes, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: Was that your Company Name? What is, or was, your civil name?

#5137: That was the name I was called when I discarded my old one, ma’am. The Company picked it for me, I was not given a choice.

Examiner Sonia: And your former civil name?

#5137: Is it relevant?

Examiner Sonia: To find your family and restore your memories, then yes.

#5137: Then it’s not relevant.

Examiner Sonia: …Technically, no, it is not relevant, however-

#5137: Can we move on? …Please, ma’am?

Examiner Sonia: [sighs] Yes, we can. As we have already discovered, you do not know your age, but that you know were with the Company for at least five years, correct?

#5137: Yes, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: What was your role in the Company?

#5137: …Whatever my teams’ leaders ordered me to be, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: Leaders? Your team had more than one?

#5137: No, teams, ma’am. When one grew tired of me, I was transferred to another.

Examiner Sonia: How many teams were you with?

#5137: Three… I think. My early memories are still fuzzy, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: Understood. As to my previous question, then, what were your roles on these teams?

#5137: [silence]

Examiner Sonia: Are you alright?

#5137: [voice cracks] I was the expendable, ma’am. On occasion, I was ordered to kill to test my loyalty to the Company, but that… that wasn’t my main purpose there.

Examiner Sonia: … I see… How many did you kill?

#5137: [silence]

Examiner Sonia: We can stop and take a break if you need to.

#5137: No, no, I can keep going! I, um… I- Just… just one, ma'am.

Examiner Sonia: Only one?

#5137: Yes, ma’am. I… I would rather not talk about it anymore. If that’s okay with you, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: Let it be noted I am honoring this request for the time being. However, I do want to warn you that this may come up in later assessments.

#5137: … I understand, ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: Do you have any remaining feelings of loyalty to the Company? Any ties left behind of note?

#5137: Ties, ma’am?

Examiner Sonia: Yes, romantic partners, friends, similar bonds that could be used against you.

#5137: … I had a romantic partner, but it… It didn’t end well. Is that what you’re asking about, ma’am?

Examiner Sonia: If this former partner were to be held hostage or threatened with the intention of gaining your cooperation for the Company, would you comply?

#5137: No. …ma’am.

Examiner Sonia: I see. Well, in that case, I recommend the individual known as Boy to be kept under monitored observation, but see no reason as to keep him from joining one of our teams. And… I also recommend he be aided in an official name change, one of his own choosing.

#5137: Th-thank you, ma’am!

Tape ends

{Audio file later renamed: First Assessment Interview for Rex Sparks}

[whumpbees]

Caretaker who's love language is playful violence vs Whumpee who's been hit.

[meraki24601]

OMG omg is it too soon to ask for a part 2 to the last Drabble you wrote?? (Sibling caretaker and whumpee) the cliffhanger was crazy

LOL definitely not too soon friend. I wanted to write a second part anyway, but I wanted to make sure people liked the first part before I did. Enjoy! (Also I'm not good at tagging people but here @tettlod!)

Part 1

-----------*-***-*-----------

A New Pet Part 2

Whumper’s fingers twisted sweetly but securely into my hair as I clung to the trashcan pressed against my chest. Any stray strands were caught before they could drop into my face. “It’s alright, Caretaker, don’t try to fight it. I should have known this surprise would be too much. Trauma isn’t something to mess with. I’m sorry.”

Another wave of nausea rushed over me as I made eye contact with my younger sibling. Their eyes darted away from mine the instant they met, but not before I could see the recognition behind them. 

“You kidnapped Whumpee.” My voice ground from my throat. All I could do was keep the disgust out of my tone. This was dangerous ground. The way Whumper’s fist tightened in my hair was evidence enough. 

“I rescued them. Caretaker, Whumpee isn’t human anymore. Your parents took that from them. Do you think it was bad during your childhood?” Whumper released my hair, their hand dragged down my face instead and curled under my chin to force my gaze on them. “I asked them, Caretaker. I asked them what it was like after you left. Before I broke them of their bad habits, I needed to understand them. You taught me that.”

A shiver ran down my spine as Whumper shifted to sit on the floor beside me. Their chest pressed against my back, and one hand rubbed my still churning stomach. Their free hand dipped into my pocket and pulled out my phone. My lock screen was me and Whumper holding my two rescue cats. “A feral animal is only dangerous when it feels it is in danger. If an animal has been hurt by its owners, it will bite you when you try to show it love. 

“When you left, your family hurt Whumpee. Look at the scars on their skin. There’s a surprising beauty in the savage pattern. I hope one day you’ll show me yours. They’re older and cleaner, aren’t they? Whumpee told me how the beatings changed. Rough, more often. They took away their food. Locked them in the tiny closet where I found them. They’re dead, by the way. Your parents? It was quick. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

The world around me spun as Whumper lifted me to my feet. “You don’t need to be afraid of Whumpee either. I can feel you shaking. It’s okay. I’m here. Their training isn’t fully complete yet, but I promise I would never put you in a situation where you were in danger. You mean too much to me.” Whumper’s steady support was the only thing keeping me upright as we walked to the elegant cage. “I was lost without you, Caretaker. Before I found you, my business was on the brink of failure. My old pet had to be put down, and the new one refused to take my training. The mansion was drowning in chaos, and the staff was uncoordinated.”

“I gave you advice.” The ringing in my ears was getting worse. “I taught you new consequences for your rescue pet’s bad behavior.”

“A breakthrough!” Whumper’s grip disappeared as they danced around me. The cage rang as I gripped it desperately, trying to stay upright. Whumper didn’t even notice as they ran their hands over a shelf of black boxes. “The other rehabilitators were shocked when I showed them what you taught me. Your technique is now used worldwide to help people with disobedient or stressed pets.”

My heart pounded in my chest. Whumper was insane. This was beyond just one kidnapping. I’ve been a personal assistant to a high-ranking member of a human trafficking ring. Not only that, my name had been spread worldwide. 

Whumper wasn’t stupid. They might have been turning their back on me for a moment, but when I looked everywhere they moved, their eyes followed me in the reflections around the room. If they decided they didn’t like my response, I could be the next person in a cage. I had to keep them talking until I could compose myself. A whole childhood of hiding emotions and pain was about to come in handy. Add on the past years of practice I had managing people and learning to connect, and there was a chance both Whumpee and I could make it out of this alive.

“How did you find my parents? They were off the grid. I couldn’t even find them.” It wasn’t a strong start but, it was enough to get Whumper talking.

They rambled as I fully took in Whumpee’s state. Some of their wounds were open and bleeding lightly. They didn’t move except for a small shiver against the cold air in the room. If I didn’t know them, I would have said they were completely empty where they knelt. Dissociating or somehow absent from the terrible conversation surrounding them. 

It was a lie. They were there. They were fighting. 

I could see the tension leaving Whumper’s shoulders as they talked and moved around the clean, newly renovated basement, seemingly pleased with my continued questions. They gathered boxes onto a cart and set up a medical table in the corner of the room. It took them nearly 15 minutes before they seemed satisfied with their preparations and moved back to the cage. 

The cage door opened. Whumper was cautious, failing to hide the knife in their hand as they allowed me to pass into the cage. “I meant it when I said I wanted us to train our new pet together. This is a new start for all of us, and there’s no one I trust more to handle this. Do you want to greet them?”

Silence but the sound of my footsteps took control of the room. As I walked into the cage, listening carefully for the sound of hinges closing behind me, Whumpee deepened their kneeling position until their head touched the floor, tilted slightly where their neck was exposed. A thin scar barely touching their neck and leading down their collarbones stole my breath away. 

The scar was the sister to the one on my own shoulder. A three-year-old scar that reminded me every day of when I finally had enough. Father had been drunk. Mother was gone. Father threw his bottle at Whumpee, cutting them. I jumped between them. He didn’t like it. Whumpee simply stood there as he used the glass shards to carve deep into my shoulder. When he finished, Whumpee yelled at me for not stopping him before they got hurt. That it was my fault.

We argued. I left.

Now was my chance to make up for that. First, I had to buy myself time to prepare. 

I didn’t have to make my voice cold as I spoke to Whumpee for the first time in three years. “Look at me.”

Whumpee didn’t move. My hand wrapped around the back of their neck, scruffing them like a cat as best I could while pressing my thumb into their matching scar. “I said, look at me.”

Their face stayed blank, but I could see hope build behind Whumpee’s eyes as they followed my order. They heard the truth in my words as I spoke, “You’re safe now, Whumpee. We’re going to take good care of you.” I would always take care of my sibling, and they knew it. It was just like before. Once I could take control, I would get them to safety, no matter the cost.

“Whumper,” I asked, “Those were medical supplies you were setting up, right? I hate to ask you to leave our new pet so soon, but I would appreciate it if I could have a moment alone with them. Would you help me get them on the table? I’ll be done by the time their wounds are bandaged.”

A grin broke out on Whumper’s face as they joined us in the cage. Whumpee tried to flinch away, but I kept my grip sturdy on their neck. I had to take control. 

“You’re sure, Caretaker? This must be a lot for you at once. I don’t want you to overwhelm yourself. Some of their wounds are deep.” Whumper questioned as they helped me. They honestly seemed to be worried about my PTSD. 

I pulled the neck of my shirt aside, showing Whumper the scar on my shoulder that now gave me courage. “I have plenty of experience caring for injuries. I need a moment to figure out what I want from our pet. I’m sure you have ideas, but I’m new to this. Some time to process would be great, and then we can start writing up a plan for the future.”

Whumpee whimpered as Whumper chained them to the medical table they had set up. A tear rolled down Whumper’s cheek as they looked down on my younger sibling. “You really are amazing, you know that Caretaker. To think, I was worried you would run from me.” 

Blood smeared across my cheek as Whumper brushed my hair out of my face. They leaned in slowly and kissed my forehead. “I’ll be waiting for you upstairs. There are cameras in here. If you need anything, anything at all, just call. I’ll be here.” They walked away, closing and locking the door behind them.

Part 3

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee's been kidnapped and dragged down a hall. They're forced back on their feet and pushed towards a wide open door.

"Come in, dear. Don't be shy." A voice lulls for them. A guard shoves them in as they stumble through the door and collapse on their hands and knees. A chuckle rings above them as whumpee raises their head to a whumper they know has a deadly reputation.

"There you are, I've been looking for you." They smiled, trying to coax them to come closer.

"St-stay away from me." Whumpee quivered and tried to stand up. Whumper grabbed them by their shirt collar and yanked them back on their knees.

"I'd lose the attitude. How much I like you is how long you get to live." 

[hhabaddon]

June of Doom (Day 17)

Prompt list [here] || Previous / Next

Prompt(s); "Don't lie to me." | Accident | Doubt | Gaslighting

Enjoy! If this one looks a little different, it's because this one was done on my laptop! (finally)

TW // Abuse, gaslighting

----

"Don't lie to me," snarled Whumper, who was towering over a cowering Whumpee.

"I'm not!" cried Whumpee, tears dripping off their chin, “It really was an accident!”

Whumpee looked over at the broken glass beside them. They had been drying the dishes when one had slipped out of their hands, shattering on the tile floor. They were in the process of cleaning it up when Whumper arrived home.

Whumper scoffed at them, "You don't really think that, do you, Whumpee?"

Whumpee trembled under Whumper's glare. It was an accident!

"Obviously, you dropped that on purpose. To provoke me."

"No!" defended Whumpee, "It-"

Whumper cut them off, "You're crazy. I can't believe you'd break something. On purpose, too." Whumper shook their head at Whumpee, as if disappointed with them.

"And then," Whumper continued, eyebrows furrowing, "When I asked you what happened, you yelled at me."

"What," whispered Whumpee, "No, I-, You-!"

Had they really broken it on purpose?

"And now!" cried Whumper, "You're trying to gaslight me?"

Were they? They weren't trying to...

"No, I..." Whumpee looked down at the ground.

"I can't believe you, Whumpee." A tear dripped off Whumper's face, and landed on Whumpee's knee. "Clean this shit up. You deserve it."

Whumper walked out of the room. Whumpee tucked their head between their knees and cried.

Had they really done all that? They must really be a bad guy.

June of Doom Masterlist [here]

[the-baby-storyteller]

An abused Whumpee who helps other abused people out of so many bad situations and is applauded for it and being such a good person,

But they’re also being abused secretly and they never talk about it, never make it known to the world.

Maybe they don’t like talking about it. Maybe they think they deserve it. Maybe they try to pretend that part of their life doesn’t exist. Maybe they’re too scared to do anything about it, so they focus instead on being brave for other people.

Whatever the reason is, they never hint it to anyone, suffering in silence. While they tirelessly help others

Maybe they secretly hate the pity being a person saved from abuse creates. Maybe they’re afraid they’ll turn out like one of their own cases.

[abhainnwhump]

So we all know the "Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new master" trope, right? (my favorite version of this is when Caretaker is incredibly insecure and socially awkward and is just like "guys help") Anyways, instead of Caretaker coaxing these behaviors out of Whumpee, they take advantage of it. Caretaker never liked Whumpee before their kidnapping. Too loud, too annoying, too . . . everything. So once they get them back and they've been conditioned to be a perfect silent servant, they thought 'Well, it wouldn't hurt if I gave in for a while'.

Caretaker turned Whumpee into their personal servant and prevents them from healing. They have them do all the house chores, cooking, and cleaning. In exchange, they tell Whumpee 'good job', but most of the time they ignore them. That doesn't matter to Whumpee, it's more kindness then what Whumper gave them.

Whumpee is so used to be treated like a slave they don't question it. It isn't until Caretaker 2 or Whumper comes in does Whumpee realize something is off.

Bonus points if Caretaker was an abusive partner or friend before the whumpening.

[generic-whumperz]

💜Whumpy Reference Pose 💜 pt.3

Made using MagicPoser app

[shatteredsundew]

As an enjoyer of whump, I can say that one of my favorite tropes isn’t discussed enough—child/teen!whumpees

A parent!caretaker finally finding their child!whumpee after months of searching, only to find them scarred in more ways than one.

Whumpers making sure that each wound they inflict on their whumpee is deeper and more painful than the last, since “children always bounce back eventually”.

Teenage!whumpees trying to put up a fight against their whumper. Yet, no matter how much bravado, false confidence, or adrenaline they have, they’re ultimately just a scared kid attempting to overpower a grown adult.

Or, consider a teen!whumpee being discovered after growing up with whumper, only to be so emaciated and stunted in their growth, no one can believe they’re actually a teenager.

And we can always consider the continuation of abuse—with child!whumpees being raised to perpetuate the cycle of abuse, assisting their whumper with the abuse of other victims to save themselves. After all, any of the others would do the same to them, surely?

But yeah, child/teen victims will always have my heart <3

[meraki24601]

could you write a continuation to the one where Whumpee's nature has changed and become cold and so caretaker asks mentor for help? i really liked it, thank you

Thank you for the ask! Again, this one took me a bit to be happy with, but I hope you like it! In this letter, some time has passed. Things haven't gotten much better for Whumpee, and now Caretaker is starting to feel it too.

Part 1

************************

Changed Part 2

Dear Mentor,

Me again. The advice you gave me before helped. For a little while. Or, maybe things didn't actually change and I just started to accept the new norm. This isn't like what I told you before. This is new, not normal. 

I don't know anymore. I can't do this. 

I'm not giving up. I know it sounds like it. I'm not. I just don't think Whumpee is going to go back to how they used to be. It might be too late. I might not have been good enough to save them. 

They noticed what I was doing. It was bound to happen. I'm not good at dealing with trauma. You know that all too well, Mentor. 

I was kind of silly. Asking stupid questions about feeling sorry for the characters in movies. Pushing them to take comfort in me when their nightmares woke us both. Exaggerated care for the smallest of injuries, from paper cuts to a stiff back. 

The second time they found a pamphlet about therapy, they confronted me. I didn't realize how far I was taking it till they did. They told me I was doing the things I just mentioned. 

Guess I didn't follow all the advice you gave me. I've never been good with patience. 

But, that's not really the problem right now.

Actually, they… Whumpee agreed with me. We came to a compromise. They agreed to start therapy if I agreed to go too. 

I think that's only because of what happened before we talked. A moment of clarity or something because of something a child did. In the grocery store of all places. 

They were caught off guard, I think. They had been in a weird mood all day, focusing on the negative. Complaining about the scars on their face quietly to themselves. We had gone to the store together to get Whumpee out of the house. 

Recently, I've been trying to keep Whumpee away from young children, wo they've been inside a lot. They may not respond to adult injuries, but a crying child is definitely a trigger. The last time we went to the park, a kid fell off their bike and scraped their knee. Whumpee completely froze when the child started crying. 

The kid's parents rode past us, the dad bumping into Whumpee when they didn't move at his warning. Honestly, I think all he hit was Whumpee's hand, but Whumpee completely collapsed. They didn't move again until the child was out of sight, taking their hushed sobs with them. 

Now, before you get mad at me for bringing Whumpee to the store where kids crying is a regular occurrence, let me make it clear we talked about that before we left. Whumpee knows it's a trigger and told me they were prepared. They were wrong, but they were confident. 

To be fair, I panicked too. We turned a corner too fast and hit another person's cart with our own. A kid was walking beside it and their finger got smashed. I still feel bad about it. The kid's finger was smashed hard enough it cut the skin and they started to bleed. 

Before the mother or I could react, Whumpee was on the floor with the kid cradled in their arms. I could only barely hear it as Whumpee whispered, "You're alright. Hush now, before they hear. It's not that bad."

The mother, of course, panicked. She almost lunged for Whumpee and her child before I was able to explain what was happening. In the end, she was surprisingly understanding. It helped that Whumpee's whispers, as terrifying as they were in the context of Whumpee's past, soothed the child and they were soon whispering back and showing Whumpee their injury.

Whumpee ripped a piece of their shirt and wrapped it around the child's finger. Almost immediately, the kid was laughing about their silly bandage. 

I was grateful when the mother allowed me a moment to bring Whumpee back before trying to leave. They had recovered enough that it was a relatively quick process. They recognized me almost instantly, and the grounding techniques you taught me helped. 

We talked about them going to therapy that night. I'm not enough to help them heal. They need a professional's help. Right? 

That's what I need you to do. I need you to tell me if this is the right thing. I've heard stories about bad therapy experiences. This will help them, right?

I was useless. I have been since they came home. I keep putting them in situations where they feel like they have to protect themselves like they did when Whumper had them. 

You know, I'm sorry I'm asking you to do this. Whumpee said I need therapy too. Isn't that silly? They were kidnapped and tortured while I was sitting safe at home, and they say I need therapy? Wouldn't agree to go themselves until I did too. 

Don't worry, I'll get out of it. I'm just a little tired. Guess I'm just being needy and want your approval, Mentor. 

Am I doing everything I can? Or have I failed them again?

[jordanstrophe]

CW: Held captive, threatened/conditioned whumpee, forced rescue, defiance, controlling whumper AND caretaker 

Whumper keeps whumpee captive under the threat that if they ever escaped, people they loved would get hurt. Whumpee's accepted that their freedom’s been sacrificed and willingly stay despite the horrors they endure.

Whumper’s gone on a weekend trip and confidently leaves them home alone - the very same weekend caretaker frantically finds their missing whumpee and breaks the door down to get to them. 

But whumpee refuses to leave. Caretaker begs and pleads, but whumpee begs them back to leave and forget about them. 

"I can’t do that." Caretaker says, grabbing their arm as a threat. 

"You'll have to, I don't want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt." Whumpee says, defeated. 

"Then let me relieve you of that responsibility."

A single order is all it took for whumpee to get dragged and put between two bodyguards in the backseat of a car. And just out of spite, caretaker’s left an anonymous letter for Whumper that they've stolen whumpee against their very will. 

[hhabaddon]

June of Doom (Day 29)

Prompt list [here] || Previous / Next

Prompt(s); “It’s really not that big of a deal.” | Bruises | Secret | Acceptance

Enjoy! I'm going to try to do Day 30 tonight, and then the extras tomorrow and Tuesday :)

TW // Implied abuse

—-

“Caretaker,” started Whumpee, giving them a wobbly smile, “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Caretaker yelled, spluttering, “Whumpee, you’re covered in bruises!”

Whumpee wanted to disagree – to protest – but Caretaker was right. Their torso was splattered in purple and green bruises, like paints thrown on a canvas. They didn’t mind that much, though – at least that’s what they told themself. What happens, happens. They weren’t going to be able to change it.

Caretaker pinched the bridge of their nose, “How long were you going to keep this a secret?”

Whumpee’s eyes dropped to the ground, and they hugged their stomach. They shrugged.

June of Doom Masterlist [here]

[whumpberry-cookie]

Caretaker does NOT have patience to meet Whumpee's needs atm.

Are they bad... or just tired?

(Cw: bad caretaker, victim blaming)

_____________

"You won't fall asleep in your state anyway. So PLEASE just be quiet so I can rest at least. I'll be the one carrying you on my back tomorrow."

"I don't have energy to comfort you right now, Whumpee. So just focus on breathing.. or stuff."

"When I tell you what to do to deal with pain, you just don't listen. What do you expect from me?"

"How many times do I have to calm you down? My best clearly isn't enough for you, if you need me to repeat that moment after".

*Wearing noice cancelling headphones, because Whumpee's just crying and whimpering SO loud. Non stop*

*under his breath* Gosh I'm not surprised Whumper was gagging him.

"Whumpee GO. to. sleep. (...) Then lay down with your eyes closed and don't get up."

(C:) "What do you want me to do?! I can't help you! I don't know how!" (W:) "hug me.. just hug me" (C:) *sigh* "Come here."

-------------------

[bilightningwhumper]

Kyrie- The First Two Years

Current "unofficial" Chapter Four of "Belonging to Nightmares"

"Belonging to Nightmares" Masterlist

*Warnings: torture, stress positions, burning, lady/female+nonhuman whumpee, nudity, dubcon/noncon intmacy, SA (very, very brief description/fade-to-black), drugging, manipulation, death, blood, abuse, conditioning, experimentation, manipulation/gaslighting, mentions and description of miscarriages*

[Basically, Kyrie goes through a lot and it's very long; SA in "Tertuary (day#), 1383" and "December (day#), 1384"; Miscarriage des./men. in "Tertuary (day#), 1384" and "October (day#), 1383"]

Secunder (day#), 1385

Her body was screaming. How long had she been like this? Hours? Days? Weeks?

Dr Covenfere had chained and fastened Kyrie's arms up behind her back, raised so they hung at an angle. Not enough to dislocate, but she'd wished to the gods they would. If she had been injured like that, they would have stopped this new method of testing her. Instead, weights had been hung over her neck and shoulders, forcing her to strain to keep somewhat upright.

It had been easier to do this when she had been able to kneel. The floor of the cell was hard and unforgiving, bruising her knees as she shifted against the stone, but it had been bearable. Now her ankles and legs had been chained 'just so' to her waist so she had to keep herself up in the air to kneel or be seared by the burning coals beneath her. A delicate balancing trick that Dr Covenfere had perfected for 'her little test subject.'

Even with the brief allowances to drink water, she could barely sweat anymore.

The door opened in front of her, letting in a cold breeze that didn't even make her shiver or flinch. She'd learned very quickly that moving just a hair would throw off her careful balance. Once she was in pain, brain fuzzed by agony, it was hard to gain it again.

"Hello, my darling." the king drawled, the smirk clear in his voice. "Are you ready to behave today?"

A cover was placed beneath her, extinguishing the burning heat. She was given no warning other than the weights being removed before her chains were released and she fell in a heap to the floor.

Thoroughly exhausted, she just lay there. They were going to do what they wanted to her anyway. Might as well make them work for it.

Her hair was pulled by her ragged ponytail, the sight of Dr Covenfere's face greeting her blurry vision.

"You know what to do, girl." the scientist mono-toned. "Disappoint me and you'll be back in those chains."

She couldn't even grimace, let alone move her limbs. But she was able to her eyes as her head was dropped back to the floor.

It didn't take much effort anymore. Months of poking and prodding, forced to down terrible concoctions, days of painful seclusion... After everything they'd done to her, she could still manage to shift at her most depleted.

Bones shrank and moved. Her skin changed, becoming fluffier as her hair shortened and grew all over her body. When she was done, she'd become a small black dog.

Unfortunately, she couldn't hold the form for long, shifting back after barely a minute. Somehow more worn than before, her darkness edged in behind her closed eyes.

"It appears we have a new limit, your majesty." That aggravating monotone voice kept her from passing out. "But I believe it to be the subject's true limit. Any further may cause permanent damage."

The familiar repulsive feeling of the king's fingers in her hair made her flinch, making her wish she could smack his hand away. "Good." His voice grew closer as the scent of his perfumes and ointments grew stronger, not helping the fogginess in her mind as they overwhelmed her nose. "I told you we could break you, didn't I, bitch? So there will be no more of your rebellious outbursts, or I will order the good doctor to push for a new limit. But next time, it will be for your precious Minna. And we don't want that, now do we?"

If she could have responded, she would have bit him.

Instead, a mask was placed over her face, a bitter smelling gas filling her nose and lungs. She choked at first before her body turned heavy.

Then nothing.

~~~

Tertuary (day#), 1383

When Kyrie got home, she knew something was wrong. The air felt tense, thick. Going into the house, it was too quiet. No candles were lit. No firelight from the kitchen or smell of dinner cooking. No friendly chatter coming from the living room. Neither her parents or her siblings called out a greeting. It seemed like no one was home at all.

Cautiously, Kyrie crept through the hall to the kitchen. She could smell something nearby. Almost like.. metal? But everything was pitch black. Even the shutters had been closed, barely any light coming through the cracks for her eyes to adjust to at all. The only thing she could make out when she made it to the room was the empty dining table and faint bare counter-tops on the opposite side of the door.

“Hello?” she called out.

No answer.

“Anyone home?”

Still no answer.

Huffing, she felt her way to the other side of the room. At least if she could light the oven, she’d be able to see better. She tripped over something. A shoe? Gods, this better not be another one of the twins’ stupid pranks.

“This isn’t funny!” she said loudly, making it to the oven. And of course the flint and steel weren’t in their usual spot.

Something clattered behind her.

She spun around-

Only to see the faint shape of a pot had fallen from the top of the cabinet shelves.

“What did you expect?” she muttered to herself, turning back around. “Mom and Dad are running late and the twins decided to mess with you. Granted in the creepiest way possible. But nothing to-”

A hand clamped over her mouth while a large armored arm constricted around her waist.

Her scream was muffled by the glove. Her struggling meant nothing as more guards marched into the room. Two of them held lanterns, making her eyes water in the sudden light as someone else walked into the room between them.

Dr Covenfere? What was the king’s personal scientist doing here?

“Retrain her to the table.” the woman said sharply. “Hold the girl down and don’t let go, no matter what she does. Gag her, too. Screaming gives me a headache.”

Kyrie fought her best, wriggling and kicking her legs to no avail. Her head hit the table hard as the guard slammed her down. In her daze, four of them held her to the table, which she thought was a little excessive. Then her legs, still hanging over the table, were taken by two others. They held her firmly, tethering her feet securely to the table-legs before she could react. Someone else shoved cloth in her mouth, tying more around her head so she couldn’t spit the wad out.

Hands gripped her waist. “I would suggest you stay still, girl.” Dr Covenfere growled. “That is, unless you want to be paralyzed.”

Tears soaked the gag as Kyrie did her best to comply, but her body shook with the force of her sobs and panic. She felt the cold metal of a blade on her back as her dress was cut and torn down the middle, top to bottom. And it didn’t stop there, cutting through her threadbare undergarments, letting them drop to the floor and exposing her to everyone. Her skin crawled as the woman’s fingers brushed against the birthmark on her hip.

“Well, I’ll be.” She could barely hear the scientist, her voice so quiet she seemed to be talking to herself. “Palore was right. Which means…” Fingers pressed several points roughly between Kyrie’s shoulder-blades, making her yelp. “There it is.”

Now Kyrie did freeze, breath catching as something pricked her spine, numbness spreading from that spot on her back. She couldn’t feel anything at first. Then something warm and wet spread past the area, dripping down her body into her tattered dress. Even through her stuffed nose, she could smell the metallic scent of… blood.

The smell that had greeted her when she first walked into the house. It was blood.

She didn’t even try moving again as Dr Covenfere pulled back. “Got it. Now, one last thing,” she muttered. Then, louder, “Sorry, girl, but Beringer doesn’t like virgins.”

Something hard, cold, and wet touched the place between her legs, somewhere that only she, not even Minna, had ever explored. She shrieked into the gag as the object was shoved mercilessly inside, unforgiving as it split her open. Panting, she tried to breathe past the pain, tense and rigid as it was pushed back and forth before being taken out. The ache remained.

The guards let her go, but she didn’t move. She was so… confused. Hurt. Scared. Why her? Why her… her family? What had she done?

“Bring her out to the carriage.” the scientist ordered. “The king has waited long enough for this one.”

So they took her limp body, carrying her by her arms as her feet dragged and stumbled against the ground. At least some of her dignity was spared with her blood-soaked and torn dress still hung on by the sleeves to cover her front. Her eyes stayed fixed to the ground and…

She closed her eyes, choking back a sob as the sight of the newly illuminated bloodstained floor embedded itself into her mind. There were trails, pools of blood. It… She didn’t want to know what was there, where they led. She didn’t… she couldn’t look. Her throat involuntary choked and gagged even with the cloth shoved between her jaws as the stench burned into her nose before they went outside. The cool night air did nothing to remove that smell from her lungs.

Was this the truth behind becoming a companion to the king? But she’d seen the families of the new members of court, watched them move up in society, move to better positions as payment for selling their progeny to the king. So why… Why?

They practically tossed her onto the carriage floor, barely letting her sit up before locking the door with a sharp click behind her. Leaving her alone. No, not alone. At the feet of the king himself.

She sat back, curling her legs to her chest as she tried to keep herself covered with the ruined dress.

“Well, aren’t you just absolutely darling?” King Beringer said, his voice a low rumble, consuming and invading the small space.

Kyrie glared up at him. King or no king, she was not going to be treated like some… some thing. Like a toy, a possession, an object. She was a person, a human, same as him. Well, with this man, “human” was debatable. Regardless, her… her parents had taught her better than to accept being treated as less than.

When he reached down to her, she smacked his hand away, tearing the gag away herself and baring her teeth. A more animalistic growl than she expected came from deep in her throat. But when she saw the brief glint of fear in his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel a grim sort of pride.

“Fascinating.”

He actually knelt down on the floor with her, even as the carriage started moving. Sweat built against her brow as he seemed to tower over her, more-so than when he had been seated above her. Backing away did little as she became more cornered against the door. She couldn’t dodge his hand this time as he went for her neck.

Squeezing her throat, he grinned, his own teeth bared, eyes cold. “Try anything and I’ll make your beloved Minna suffer more than her father already has. Understood?”

Swallowing hard against his grip, she nodded. When he let her go, she croaked, “What do you want from me?”

He didn’t answer her, more concerned with attempting to remove the rest of her dress. When she resisted, he gave her a sharp look. “Behave and I’ll tell you the truth. For a price.”

“And if I don’t?”

His eyes bore into hers. “I’ll take what I want regardless.” he snarled, sending chills down her spine. Then he spoke softly, his voice as smooth as honey as he caressed her cheek. “But I am a reasonable man. If you let me take you willingly, I’ll do one favor for you. One truthful answer. One request granted. Whatever you may desire, as long as it is within my ability.”

Her mouth went dry. “But I-” she cleared her throat. “I like women.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” he chuckled, pulling out a flask from his robes. “One drink from this and you won’t have to worry about that. So,” He held out the flask to her. “What will it be, my darling?”

She stared at the small metal canteen and for once words failed her. The last, what, hour of events had her head spinning. She wasn’t a noble. She wasn’t even from a well-off family. They’d barely scraped by. Minna was really her only connection to that world, but no one saw her friend as a “real” lady.

But now she had been forbidden from seeing or even talking to Minna ever again. All because Dr Palore had caught them kissing. She was just lucky that… Well, not so lucky. Her family was… They were…

“Why me?” she rasped. “I’m not anyone. Is this because of my being with Minna?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” King Beringer tutted, tilting her chin up with his free hand, that smile shifting to a smirk. “That’s two questions. But I’ll let you have them, since it’s your first time.” Then he offered her the flask again. “But, you have to drink all of it if you want both answers.”

Her stomach churning, she took it. The smell of whatever was inside was odd. Flowery, but bitter. She’d expected alcohol or something similar. Closing her eyes, she chugged it all down as fast as she could manage before she thought about it too much.

The effects hit her almost immediately.

It burned going down.

Her body slowly went fully limp, the flask slipping from her hand just as she finished the last drop. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Something started stirring under her skin. The same sensations she’d feel when kissing Minna, though they’d always stopped before things got too intense. But this fire… it was those same feelings, several times stronger. The ache since she’d been violated went away, replaced by this throbbing. A deep need for something her body wanted, but her mind did not.

If she could have, she would have started crying again.

Instead, she was as pliant as a doll, tears trapped in her eyes. Powerless as the king stripped her of her remaining dignity as he removed the rest of her dress. She was surprised her body didn’t shake with the force of her heart pounding in her chest. King Beringer’s fixed gaze of of hunger and greed made her feel dirty and disgusting all over.

“To answer your second question first,” he rumbled, lifting her onto the carriage bench. “It was because of Minna that I found you. How fortunate you fell for the daughter of the man who delivered you all those years ago.”

Her mind was scattered. It kept trying to focus on the little details around her instead of what he was saying. The coarseness of the seat against her skin. The gold accents blinking in the starlight from the windows on the roof. It took all of her effort to keep her attention on his words, everything to keep from being aware of his hands and-

“As to your first question,”

Gods, he was getting undressed.

“You are the answer to all my troubles. The key to my ultimate desire.” He spread her legs, pressing something warm to where her core had become wet. “Everything will be solved with my child growing inside your precious womb.”

The unshed tears in her eyes fell one by one as he used her, thrusting her roughly against the bench with his force. She could feel the bruises forming on her waist, her back, her legs.

When he was finally finished with her, feeling gradually came back to her body. Her limbs twitched slightly as she laid there, motionless. By the time the carriage had stopped, the servants taking her out and carrying her into the castle, she had mercifully fallen unconscious.

~~~

Tertuary (day#), 1384

The dish shattered against the wall near Kyrie as she sat, shaking, on the floor. She could feel the blood leaving her body as her insides cramped and tore themselves apart. Something that shouldn’t be happening since she was… she had been… Gods, it was happening again. She was really losing another one. Sobs bubbled in her chest as she desperately tried to hold them back. It would only make the king angrier.

“Are you doing this on purpose just to spite me?!” he roared, pacing around the room, hands raking through his usually carefully styled hair. “Do you really think you can keep getting away with this?!”

Frantically, she shook her head, stopping as it made the world spin. “N-no, I don’t- I don’t know what h-happened-” she whimpered, flinching as another plate flew past her head.

The door burst open, Iris storming in, Cirila close behind her.

“Beringer, stop.” she ordered, eyes flashing.

As the king rounded on her, Cirila went right to Kyrie. He ignored the other companion, shouting at Iris, “This is none of your concern!”

“Seeing as she is not currently pregnant, your abusing my companion is very much my concern!” the queen shot back. Her words were even and firm, but Kyrie could see how her fists shook, hear the almost imperceptible tremble in her voice.

Cirila put a hand on Kyrie’s back, drawing her attention away from the couple. “Can you walk?” she whispered.

Kyrie shook her head, lip quivering as the arguing got louder.

With a nod, the other companion picked Kyrie up in her arms, barely hindered by the smaller woman’s many skirts. Not that she weighed much under the bulk of her dress anymore.

She weakly protested as they left the king’s chambers. “But Iris-”

“Will be back later.” Cirila said firmly, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Unable to argue, Kyrie let her head fall against Cirila’s chest, her arms wrapped behind the other woman’s neck as she brought her to the queen’s wing. She let herself cry now, shaking as the blood still flowed from her body. It was so much worse than the first time.

By the time she’d been brought to her bed, the queen’s doctor called for, she was in a daze, barely able to follow what was being said to her. Barely able to stay awake as they tended to her, trying to stop the bleeding that didn’t seem to end.

As darkness came over her, Kyrie’s thoughts floated through her mind. Not for the first time, she asked herself: What if she never gave the king a child?

~~~

October (day#), 1383

Kyrie wrapped her arms around herself as she huddled on the bench. Her whole body ached. After having to shift so much in the past week, it hurt not being able to. She’d just started getting used to it, too. For so long she’d felt odd in her body. Her whole life, really. Being able to shift felt so… freeing. Changing into whatever she wanted, even if she wasn’t able to right now. Not that she could control it yet. But it felt… nice. Really, really nice. Maybe that was the same thing Minna and her sisters felt when they used their abilities. Something as natural as breathing. Because it did feel suffocating when they put this cursed thing around her neck.

An itch built up in her nose.

Oh no.

She sneezed, wincing as her body attempted to shift, but her necklace burned, stopping the change before it could begin. The chip Dr Covenfere had dug out of her back months ago was now disguised as a lovely golden locket on a delicate golden chain. A chain that couldn’t be broken, no matter how hard she’d tried. Only the king and the scientist held keys to the damn thing.

“Hello.”

Just about jumping out of her skin, Kyrie looked up to see- Queen Iris?!

She scrambled to her feet, attempting to curtsy as best she could. “Y-your majesty!” she stammered, head bowed, eyes fixed to the floor. “I, um-”

Hands gently took her arms, lifting her out of the curtsy. “Oh, there’s no need for all that.” the queen laughed lightly, sounding almost… bitter? Sad?

Curious, Kyrie risked glancing up.

There were bags under the queen’s eyes. She didn’t wear makeup, Kyrie discovered. Her shoulders were down, but not relaxed. More like if she was carrying the weight of the world, though she held herself upright as if trying to hide it.

“You’re Kyrie, aren’t you?” she asked in that same tinged quiet voice. “You can just call me Iris. In settings like this, that is. I don’t mind.”

Humming, Kyrie chewed on her lip before blurting out, “Are you okay?” She immediately flushed, wishing she could take the words back.

But the queen just laughed, smiling more genuinely now. The regal woman sat on the bench before she offered the seat next to Kyrie. “You’re a straight-forward one, aren’t you?”

Still flushed, Kyrie took the seat. “I’m working on it.” she mumbled, fiddling with the decorative ribbons on her dress. The low neckline only made her more self conscious than it normally did being in the presence of someone so dignified. How was she supposed to hold herself? Or talk without looking like a fool?

A soft, warm hand took one of hers. She looked up to meet Iris’ eyes again. They were brown, like her own. Though a lot of people had brown eyes. Strangely normal for a noble.

“I don’t mind.” The queen was still smiling, her eyes kind. “It’s refreshing. Even my companions hesitate speaking so bluntly to me.” Then she frowned, her other hand coming up to Kyrie’s cheek. When Kyrie winced as the freshly covered cut met her fingers, her eyes hardened. “He’s not a gentle man, is he?”

Weakly, Kyrie smiled. Unsure if she could speak freely of the king here, she just said, “King Beringer isn’t bad. I just… Um.” Her breath shuddered, a lump forming in her throat. Memories of waking up, legs covered in blood, pain, so much pain, all flooded back to her. She tried to push them down, tried to forget again. The queen couldn’t help her with her troubles. Not that she would dare to ask. She cleared her throat, doing her best to give a more reassuring smile. “It’s nothing to trouble you, your majesty. The king cares for me in his own way.”

A bitter smile on her face, Iris tucked some loose hair behind Kyrie’s ear. “Sweetheart, you’re not alone. We’ve all been… cared for by him in the same way.” Then she did draw back, pulling down her neckline to show Kyrie her collarbone. A long jagged scar ran down, no doubt past her heart.

Kyrie could only manage to inhale sharply, clenching her hands into fists, as the queen put her clothes to rights before reaching into a hidden pocket in her skirts. Out of it, she took out a small jar.

“May I?” she asked. “It’s a healing salve.”

Tears sparked in Kyrie’s eyes. Suddenly she was at home, her mama gently chastising her for getting into another fight while she treated her various bruises. But she’d never got that mad, not really. Not when it had been because she’d been standing up for her friends. Usually it was for Minna, whom her parents had practically taken in as another daughter. Her parents…

The dam broke when arms wrapped around her, pulling her into the warmest and most comforting hug she’d had since being brought to the palace. Each sob heaved from deep in her chest. In the back of her mind, she worried about ruining her makeup or the queen’s dress. But the arms only pulled her closer, holding her tight. As the smell of Iris’ perfume grew stronger, she stopped caring about being dignified.

Even after her crying died down, after she had stopped sniffling and shaking, the older woman still held her close.

So she drew back herself, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. No doubt her makeup was already a mess and she didn’t really care much about her own dress. But she still took the handkerchief she was offered with a quiet thank you, using that instead. “Sorry, I’ve- I guess I’ve been feeling a little…” She swallowed hard. “Homesick.”

“That’s perfectly alright, hun.” Iris said kindly, rubbing her back gently. “Have you written to your family? I can arrange a visit, if you’d like.”

Kyrie hid her face, looking down as she fought back a new batch of tears. “They’re dead.” she croaked.

Silence fell between them. The queen just sat there with her as now silent tears traced down her cheeks, taking her hand again. Every time Kyrie thought she’d cried her last over her family, the grief overwhelmed her again.

“I lost my daughter. He took her from me, when he took my husband.”

Unsure, Kyrie looked up, tears still clouding her vision. She’d thought talking of before King Beringer’s rule was forbidden. But this was Iris. She was probably the only one that could.

“Genevieve would have been around your age now.” she continued, her voice turning wistful, eyes turned to the sky.

“How old would she be?” Kyrie asked, her own voice croaky and rough.

Sighing softly, the queen’s sad smile returned. Her own eyes were full of unshed tears. “Twenty-six years old.”

Kyrie couldn’t help but let out a small rueful laugh. “Just a year older than me.”

Iris hummed softly, turning to look at the younger woman thoughtfully. “Would you like to live with me?” she asked. It was odd to hear a woman with her position and power so hesitant and hopeful. “You would be the youngest, as most of my companions are closer to my age. But you would be welcome to join my court if you wished.”

“I-” Words failed her again. Live with the queen? Her? “Would it be allowed?” she asked tentatively. “He-” She couldn’t finish. Did Iris even know what the king was doing with her? His intentions? The experiments?

It was almost like a mask went on, like what she’d seen happen to Minna over and over. But it was different, like seeing a new side of Queen Iris. Someone with a spark in her eye, a jaw firm and determined, head held high and shoulders back as she nodded to Kyrie.

“I’ll see to it that it is.” she said fiercely.

Then she stood, turning on her heel to stride back into the main castle, leaving Kyrie to wonder ‘what just happened?’

~~~

December (day#), 1384

Gods, she must be insane. After being so harshly thrown out from the king’s chambers for something Iris and the others assured her (repeatedly) was not her fault, here she was, standing in front of his door.

She’d already told Iris what she was planning. How she needed to know. Her queen had understood, even if she worried. After all, even with the experiments and testing she’d still had to endure, Kyrie was finally healthier now than she had been in months. Getting sleep, gaining weight, real color in her face rather than covered in layers of makeup. Doing this would most likely reverse all of her progress.

Before she could lose her nerve, Kyrie knocked on the door. With every heartbeat, she wanted to run. But her feet stayed rooted to the floor, even as she flinched when the door swung open.

King Beringer remained expressionless as he gazed down at her. “Well, well,” he drawled, his rumbling echoing through the empty hall, save themselves and the posted guards. “What brings you here at this late hour, my darling?”

Swallowing back bile, she stood at her full height. Even if she barely came up to his chest, she felt more confident in a dress she’d chosen, hair in a style she wanted, with the lucky charm Iris had given her heavy in her pocket. Looking directly in his eyes, she declared, “I came for a drink.” She couldn’t help but falter at his smirk, but continued, “And an answer.”

“Oh really?”

She forced herself to stay still as he took her chin in his hand, fingers tight on her jaw. It was extremely hard not to smack him as he looked her up and down, as if already undressing her with his eyes. So she settled with glaring at him.

He let go, stepping back as he held his arm out into the room. “After you, darling.”

Her heart pounding, she walked in. The original plan had been to stand outside, demand an answer before she even crossed the threshold. But her fear was beginning to override her confidence, desperation taking its place. She needed to know things and he was the only one who could tell her

The door shut with a firm thud. Now she was trapped. A mouse in the lion's den.

"So what is it you wanted, my darling?" He was behind her, his hands on her waist. They traveled up, his fingers brushing the neckline of her dress, his palms pressing into her breasts. His words were dripping in poison honey as he continued, his mouth hot against her neck. "Are you sure you didn't just miss my company?"

Without thinking, she shoved his arms away, red faced and shaking. It was already bad enough she had to do this. He really didn’t have to make it worse.

Stepping away, she turned to face him, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Why did you kill my family?” she asked shortly.

He regarded her, a look in his eyes she couldn’t read. “Your family,” he said, closing the distance between them, taking a loose strand of her hair between his fingers. “Was in my way.” His eyes bore into hers. “And I don’t like it when people get in my way.”

Pressing her lips together, she met his eyes firmly. That wasn’t a real answer and they both knew it. Every instinct told her that it wasn’t just because of her abilities that he wanted her for. He wanted her child, but why did it have to be his? And there was no guarantee that it would even gain her genes. So what was he not telling her?

“I came for the truth.” she said, firm and clear. “Not another half-truth. The full truth that you owe me.”

His face darkened as he grabbed her hair, yanking it back as she yelped and fought to free herself.

“That I owe you?” he snarled, face close to hers. “I owe you nothing, whore. You should be thanking me, freeing you from that pathetic life they’d given you.”

She had no choice but to stumble with him as he drug her across the room, still ranting.

“Dr Covenfere wanted to lobotomize you. Make you a nice little obedient doll for both of us. But, lucky for you,” He threw her on the bed, his smile not matching the lividity in his eyes as he looked down at her. “I like a challenge.”

Kyrie’s lip quivered as she retreated on the bed covers. Words stuck in her throat, only a strangled sound of protest coming from her mouth.

“Strip.” he ordered, taking off his shirt. “Unless you want me to rip that hideous rag off of you.”

She did as she was told, doing her best to keep out of his reach. “Sh-shouldn’t I drink the potion now?”

“Oh,” Her stomach dropped as he pushed her to the sheets, his eyes more like a predator’s than hers would ever be. “We won’t be needing it tonight.”

~~~

Tertuary (day#), 1385

Kyrie was furious. Manipulating and telling half truths to her was one thing. But she’d obeyed King Beringer! She’d been playing by his rules, staying in line. Yet now he’d done this?

Her anger only grew as she watched Minna be supported by her sisters out of the palace and into one of their carriages home. How she longed to help herself, not to be trapped behind a window, stories apart from her.

As soon as the king returned to his chamber and removed her collar, Kyrie slapped him across his face.

“You bastard!” she snarled. “You scheming, vile-”

He hit her. Hard. A fist to her jaw, sending her tumbling to the floor.

She didn’t make the mistake of looking up as the king overshadowed her. Even as pressure on her ankle caused pain to surge through her nerves.

“I let you see her again.” he snarled, putting more weight on his foot to make her whine. “I gave you a choice. And yet you lash out at me when you don’t take it?”

Instead of breaking her ankle or leg, he stepped away, going to the fireplace and holding the metal end of the poker inside the burning flames. As he held it there, he met her eyes. “Here. Now.”

She didn’t know what would be worse. Him breaking her limb or whatever he planned for her now.

Reluctantly, she got up, resisting touching her still throbbing jaw. As she’d done so often, she automatically knelt by his side.

When he moved his free hand, she flinched. But he only reached into his pocket before letting the golden locket on its golden chain swing in front of her nose.

She put it on before she registered that’s what she was doing.

“That’s a good girl.” he purred, petting her hair. Gentler than before, he gripped the back of her head, pulling her head to make her look up at him. “Now that Dr Covenfere has her new test subjects, I’ll be fully in charge of your punishments.” He released her, pushing her down as he did so. “On your stomach.”

Shaking, she laid down on the carpet, her jaw and cheek becoming irritated by the coarse material immediately. This was worse. This was so much worse. She didn’t like being blind like this, not being able to see what he was planning. Powerless as she heard the king moving near her. There was no warning as he knelt on her back, pinning her firmly to the floor.

Kyrie could hear the smile in his voice as he gripped one of her ankles firmly in his hand, making her bend her knee as he pulled it up off the floor. “Feel free to scream as loudly as you please, my darling. I quite enjoy hearing your delicious sounds.”

Then, she was burning.

Of course she screamed. How could she not? The sole of her foot felt like it was on fire. No matter how hard she tried to wrench her leg away, his grip was unyielding. When he took the poker away, she wept freely, not caring if he punished her for it. Her tears only fell faster as he switched to her other ankle.

“Please,” she blubbered. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

His grip only tightened. “It’s far too late for apologies, my darling. Clearly, I’ve given you too much freedom as of late.” The heat of the metal grew closer as he ignored her sobbing pleas. “Perhaps now you’ll remember you belong to me.”

This time when the poker came down and she screamed, louder than before, darkness gathered at the edges of her vision. She passed out before he’d even let her go.

---

When she woke up, she was disoriented. Both her hands and feet throbbed. As her eyesight cleared, she realized she was in her room. It was hard to focus on anything because of it. And her vision was blurry even in the dim light of the dark room. Not the king’s chambers or in the room by his. Her bedroom in her queen’s wing. And she was dressed. Only in a robe, but it was light and soft. Odd after so long of not wearing anything at all, but comforting.

Her attempt to sit up only resulted in a soft cry of pain and further throbbing in her hands.

Not even a minute later, Terrell walked in, Iris close behind him.

“I can’t even leave you alone for one second, can I?” he chided her, a wry smile on his lips but worry in his eyes.

Kyrie managed a weak smile, rasping, “Sorry. How long-” Her voice caught, coughing from her dry throat.

The two of them jumped into action, fussing over her. Iris helped her to sit up against the pillows and to drink some water, while Terrell checked on her bandages.

When Iris brushed her bangs out of her eyes, Kyrie couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Her fingers were cool against her skin. It was then that she registered that there wasn’t even a blanket over her.

“You’ve been unconscious for almost two days.” Iris said quietly, putting her full palm against Kyrie’s forehead. “But your fever’s gone down now, so that should mean we’re past the worst of it.”

Terrell hummed in agreement. “If Beringer wasn’t such a stubborn asshole, we would have been able to help sooner. But instead he had to wait until your burns got infected before we could step in to help.” His voice was fierce, but his hands were gentle as he began unwrapping her hands.

They... were not a pretty sight. Kyrie's stomach churned, seeing her mottled pink and red skin.

"It was worse," Terrell said, carefully applying ointment as her skin tingled and stung. "We had to use the serum. I'm sorry."

Iris put her finger over Kyrie's lips before she could say a word. "If we didn’t, we would have lost you." There were tears in her queen's eyes. "You can be mad, but we didn’t have another choice. Kimberly is confined with her sisters in the manor. So..." she trailed off as her voice broke.

She deflated, what little energy she had leaving her body. As much as it hurt, Terrell's soft ministrations were somewhat relaxing. And she didn’t know what to think about the serum. On one hand, she hated the way they discarded her one wish. But on the other... she understood. And Minna would no doubt have insisted she used it, even if they both knew what it had cost.

"Your other friends from town. Their names are Sarah and Jarred, right?" Terrell asked.

Humming, Kyrie nodded, unable to keep her eyes open.

Iris' voice floated in her ears. "They're here, in the castle. Evidently, they sought employment here in an effort to find you."

Oh. That was nice.

"Wanna see them." she mumbled. Then yawned, trying to stay awake. "But not yet. Don’t want them to see... Tired..."

If anything else was said, she was too asleep to hear it.

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