Thread: Winning a Kingdom (Xavierrol and Emmie)

She knew him immediately when he came from the tent. Two officers who had survived battles with the mercenaries and had gotten good looks at their leader had been summoned to the castle, and Thearia had closely questioned the men. Her new husband as she was determined he would be even though the demands had not specified such was a massive man. Dark-skinned like all the barbarians, but bald with a graying beard. The officers had insisted he was perhaps a head above most men. The man vaulted on a horse and came to her at a dead run. It wasunexpected. She had anticipated a dignified approach at least. As he drew closer she noted the barbaric tattoos her officers had described to do. Only her rigid self discipline kept her from retreating at the furious approach, the man was clearly furious and she had no idea why. She forced herself to remain still, her pert chin lifted high. But his snapped greeting left her blinking at him in astonishment. Humiliate? What was humiliating about it? Their clothing had been ruined in battle, did he expect Purdah to replace the mens clothing for him as well? Was it the blindfolds? Did he expect they would have followed her if they knew it was only a small woman leading them? Was it the golden chain? The men had to remain controllable till they were delivered Purdah had even wasted expensive gold coating the common iron fetters. Before she could even hope to respond though, she was snatched from her saddle as if she were a clawless kitten, clutched by his hard arm, staring up at him in breathless bewilderment, her hands burning from the heavy chain ripped from her tight grasp. It was a testament to his strength that she never once felt like she would fall. Burning dark eyes on her and then he was barking out orders to other mercenaries swarming around them. She didnt even know what he was doing till warm air rushed against her naked breasts, the ripping of the expensive silks obscenely loud in her ear. Her sharp cry echoed in the air, her hands flying to cover her breasts. But he grimly continued, tearing away the silks from her body until she was naked, squirming in his lap as she frantically tried to cover her nakedness, her black eyes flashing fire and fear up at him. Terror thudded in her bloodstream, panic pounding in her ears. All her life she had been carefully protected, her body carefully concealed from all hungry eyes. And now she was dangling over a horse, her hands frantically trying to cover herself. Naked and exposed to the world. All her cool dignity and tactical logic failed her completely. Wild, bewildered eyes flashed everywhere, taking in flashing images of leering soldiers, mocking grins, stiffening cocks. No longer the cool, collected princess, in mere seconds she had devolved into a frightened, vulnerable girl. Squirming in silent panic as he bound her hands with frightening efficiency, looping the gold chain. She heard snapped orders from him, felt the vibrations in his chest, but understood nothing. She could hardly remember to breath. Too exposed. Shame and humiliation overwhelming her senses. And then she was falling, another breathless scream. Rumbling laughter echoed around her, and her shoulders hunched defensively. She could no longer cover herself, hot tears burning in her eyes. She was stunning. Long sleek legs and arms, her belly slightly rounded in a soft inviting way. Full young breasts riding high on her chest, dusky rose colored nipples clinging to the tips, hard and pebbled in the sun. Between her legs, a bare soft mound curving invitingly down into the shadow between her thighs. She followed him staggering at first, confused and terrified more a beaten slave girl than a princess. But somehow, she found herself, gathering the scraps of her dignity and wrapping them around herself like a shield. Under the watching eyes of the cheering and laughing men she straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin. She blinked furiously to chase away the tears, the confusion and terror changing to pure fiery rage that burned through her eyes at him. Her walk changed from a stumbling gait to a graceful stride. Not everyone stopped laughing, but some did. Some eyes cool and assessing. It was enough. She would make this bastard pay or she would die trying. She was no common prisoner, she was royal AND fertile. Perhaps before this she may have seen fit to aid him, but he was not worthy. She would sabotage his every effort. She would see him destroyed for this shame.