#so I’ve been wanting to get an erig

[rosicheeks]

I'm sorry you lost your spot. Maybe that info the nice cop (i guess there have to be some out there) gave you can be the first step to a wonderful journey of joy and positivity. I'm rooting for you, Princess.

🤗

[theroyalwords]

Leverage Part 1/?

Here’s the thing I’ve been working on! I hope you enjoy!!

“Keep your head down.”

Valor’s words were so soft that Kelilah barely heard them. She balled her fists, knowing that the gods could either be merciful or wreck havoc unto her world. After all she had done, all she had sacrificed for her people, she hoped it was the former.

“Now what would a small group of Corinth soldiers be doing in the neutralands?” The Erig’s words were strange in her own language. It had a rough quality to it, almost guttural. He walked through them, eyeing each one of them he passed. Thank Heria that Etynne cut her hair, that she wore the traditional paint on her face. If Kelilah hadn’t, they probably would have known who she was in an instant.

“Maybe we loosen your tongues, yes?”

The man grabbed one of her soldiers and slit his throat.

Kelilah wanted to cry out, to scream and attack the man. Already, so many of her small group had perished. She wanted to kill all of his companions, the ones who smugly smiled and chortled at her people’s misfortune. Valor grabbed her hand, attempting to keep her calm.

“Don’t you dare.”

Daring was something she did best. Her hands itched for her sword, which was now being manhandled by one of the beasts that overtook them. This is what the Erigs did – they plundered and pillaged, and often showed no mercy.

“Perhaps quick deaths do not loosen tongues.” There was a pause, a chill that ran over the group. “Grab the girl.”

Etynne was the only one other girl left in their group. He could be referring either of them, but Kelilah knew better. It was because she wasn’t looking up. She seemed meek, almost mild this way. Certainly not what they pictured as a soldier. But she couldn’t look them in the eye as she wanted to.

Kelilah was hauled to her feet. She struggled as she was pulled to the front of the group, to the commander that seemed to be in charge. They yanked at her hair, her amour, laughing the whole while at her struggle. They threw her at the feet of the leader. Kelilah was on all fours, eyes screwed tightly shut. The man knelt beside her and grabbed her hair, tilting her head back to get a good look at her.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

“Go fuck yourself,” she spat back in their language. His hand connected with her cheek, sending her sideways. Kelilah hit the ground, her head swimming from the pain. Before she could orient herself, more of them grabbed her and tied her to something wooden. She was splayed out, like an offering to the gods, a feast for them. She tried to struggle against her bonds, to fight their hold, but her strength was gone. After the long fight, Kelilah just didn’t have anything left in her.

The man unlaced her armor, the rest of his contingent muttering their appreciation. With each piece of her leathers removed, the hoots and yells grew louder. He removed it all, so she was left in nothing but her tunic and pants.

“What a pretty little soldier,” he stated as he ran his hands over her frame. She would have kneed him in the groin if her feet weren’t tied. He slid along her torso, ending at her chest, painfully squeezing her. The enemy soldiers yelled in appreciation, their hollering making the fact that this foreigner, this monstrosity, was fondling her breasts almost unbearable. “Do all of your females look as divine?”

“Unite me, and I’ll show you what divine truly is.”

��You speak our language so well,” the man murmured against her ear. “It’ll make it even better when you start screaming.” His fingers brushed the laces of her pants, pulling at the ties. His hand ventured inside, brushing her. She clamped down on the scream that built in her throat. Kelilah would not give them the satisfaction. She couldn’t let her soldiers see her fear or pain. She could endure this for them.

Aedion let out a battle cry. She would know that yell anywhere, from the hundreds of times she heard it before. The sound of bodies colliding in front of her made the air in her chest disappear. She chanced opening her eyes for just a second, to see Aedion struggling on the ground with two of the men. He’d given the Commander a bloodied lip, something to take his focus off Kelilah. They had the upper hand now, pulling him on his knees. He caught her eyes just long enough to shake his head. Kelilah stared at the ground. This couldn’t be happening. She wouldn’t be the cause of their deaths.

But she would be. And she hated herself for it.

“You seem mighty protective over the girl, hmm?” Flesh hit flesh, a dull deep thud that seemed to echo in her bones. Had he broken Aedion’s nose, punched him in his stomach? “Are you her lover?” their Commander taunted. “Angry that I have my hands all over her? Who is she to you?” Silence met him, as she knew it would. Her contingent was loyal, almost to a fault. “No answer? It seems to me that I have found your weakest link.”

All Kelilah heard was Aedion’s quick intake of breath before she felt the sting of the whip. It cut across, hitting her arm, stomach, and the top of her leg, drawing a line of fire across her skin. A strangled cry left her, one she couldn’t stop.

“Who is she to you, boy?”

Another lash, this time across her thighs. Kelilah bit her lip, praying she had the strength to stand the pain. When Aedion didn’t answer, he whipped her again, this time across her chest. It cut through the fabric, leaving her exposed more than she would like. The Erigs cried out in celebration. Her eyes watered from the pain, leaking out on to her cheeks. She promised Valor she would hold out. If they knew who she was, the things they would do to her would be worse than death.

“Don’t make me mar that pretty face,” the commander threatened.

“Family,” Aedion finally admitted. It wasn’t a lie. Technically, they were by marriage. “Let her go, please. Whip me instead.”

“How noble,” the commander scoffed. “But I like the way her skin looks all red and bleeding. Let’s see if we can tear that shirt a little more, hmm? I want a full view of what I’ll be playing with later.”

The Erig men chorused their assent. Kelilah waited for the sting, mentally prepared herself for the bite of it, but no matter what she did, nothing prepared her for the pain. The uncertainty, not knowing when it was coming, only made it worse. At least before, she could hear it through the air before it hit. Now, with the taunts and jeers of the men, the sound was drowned out. She tried her best not to cry out, to stay strong. Each lash was matched with the shouts of her guards, the sounds of struggle, of yelling and bodies clashing. It hit her just as hard as that whip. How many would die in the attempt to save her from the pain? This was what she deserved for their deaths. Maybe they would keep going until she was nothing but a lump of scarred flesh. Maybe all they would do is torture them until they were all dead. Was it cowardly, to be glad that if she was to die, she wouldn’t have to see the pain of her brethren? She’d already seen so much death today, so much pain…

“Enough.”

The voice cut through the air much like the whip, but it was twice as sharp and a lot more foreboding. The Erigs immediately quieted. Hardly any sound filtered through the air other than Kelilah’s own labored breaths. She spared a quick glance around her at few companions that were left. Some laid on the ground, no longer moving, their blood mixing with the dirt below them. The three left were now held down, tied and bound like cattle. Valor, Etynne, Aedion…And their eyes were on her. She looked down at the ground. Her clothes were torn, the skin underneath raw and bloody, the cut fabric threatening to expose her at any moment.

“Varog, we can’t have fun with the prisoners if you insist on ripping them to pieces,” the voice stated in the Erig language. Kelilah was the only one of their company that could fully understand it. Valor understood a little. Shoes crunched against the dry earth at a languid pace before they came into her view. “Such a pretty thing to waste, too.”

The man was close now, close enough that she could feel him loom over her. For a moment, he just stood there, but then, his fingers brushed the necklace she still wore before snapping it from her neck. She hoped that it would have stayed hidden, but the whip exposed it. Not just anyone wore the royal seal. She should have ripped it off, thrown it in the field before they were overwhelmed. But that silly piece of metal was her mother’s, something she couldn’t bear to part with. And it would be her downfall. He delicately grabbed her chin, pulling her face up. Kelilah was too tired to drag her head out of his grasp.

“Open your eyes.”

His voice was…hypnotic. Full of power and authority. This voice would be followed, not ignored or chided. Whoever this was, he was the one that was truly in charge. Despite the power in his tone, at the same time, it was smooth and sweet like honey, full of promise. It flowed just as beautifully in her language as it did his own. Kelilah hesitated.

“I think enough blood has been spilt today. Don’t make me spill more.” His thumb softly brushed her cheek, sending goosebumps along her arms. Kelilah swallowed shakily. “I will not ask again.”

What could she do? It was over. They were outnumbered, utterly defeated. This was only delaying the inevitable. He knew or at least suspected. Her eyes opened and landed on the man in front of her.

His beard was on the shorter side, the blonde hair on his head braided back in the traditional Erig way, just long enough to brush his shoulders. He couldn’t have been that much older than her, maybe a few years at best. But what truly ensnared her gaze was his eyes. They were a perfect light blue, like the ice that floated in their lands. They were calculating, intent, and formidable at the same time; yet, she didn’t feel fear looking at him. His eyes stared right back into her own, memorizing the green color that surrounded the tiniest hint of amber in the center. The eyes of her father, and his father’s before that. The eyes of a family that rivaled them for almost a hundred years now.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he mused, just loud enough for her to hear. He took a step closer, barely half a breath of space between them. “You certainly are a long way from home, your highness.”

“War does that,” she murmured back in his language.

“Kelilah, correct?” She nodded. He tapped his finger against her face as he shook his head. “No wonder they fought so hard for you. Loyalty like that is admirable.” His hand left her chin, his knuckles brushing along her cheek. He pulled his hand back, now partly covered in her face paint. “What have you done to inspire such devotion?”

“Nothing more than treating them kindly. They are my family.”

“I can see that.” He heaved a heavy sigh. That icy gaze studied her face. He must certainly be thinking about the possibilities, about what to do next. Kelilah wanted to beg for her people to be freed, to offer herself in exchange, but they already had her. They wouldn’t let them go, not now. All she could do was plead with her eyes, pray to the gods, and be strong. “What would you do for the three left, to spare them more pain or suffering? To keep them alive, perhaps a chance to go home?”

“Anything,” she rasped. “I’d do anything for them.” She meant it. After how they defended her, it was the least she could do.

“Hmm.” He laid his hand on her shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. “Make sure you behave then.” He turned away from her. “Cut her down and bind her. Put the other prisoners in a wagon along with the haul. She stays with me.”