Thread: The Guardian (Joust&Soul)

Belle paced the room she was thrown into. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her, despite the quite large size of it. In the middle of the room was a large canopy-styled king sized bed with satin sheets the color of blood. The entire room was filled with gold, jewels, and books written in a language that Belle had never even heard of. The floor and walls were made of gray stone, and were cold to Belle's bare, black nail-polished feet. She was ripped from her nice, cozy bed by a thing with tree bark for skin, green eyes with no pupils, and a pair of god damn wings on its back. She had screamed so loud she was sure she woke up the entire apartment complex, but before anyone could come to the rescue, the Winged Tree had scooped her up in its roughly-textured arms and fucking flew her out the window. She had fought to get out of its rock-like hold, hitting it with her fists and kicking the open air. But then, they were so up high that if Belle had succeeded in her attempt to escape, she would plummet to her death. So instead of fighting her kidnapper, she had clung to it, still screaming. Heights were not her thing. Then they landed in a grave yard, the Winged Tree speaking to another Winged Tree in a rough language that Belle couldn't understand. The other Winged Tree had blindfolded her, where she was led through hallways and thrown into this room. She had known they were in a hallway because of the echo of their footsteps. She had torn off the blind fold, and began her pacing. 'Keep calm Belle, think, where are you?' She thought to herself. She didn't wear clothes to bed, only her panties, and the Trees didn't have the courtesy to find her something to wear before tossing her in here. It was cold, making her entire body get goose bumps. She placed her very long, pale blond hair over her breasts and wrapped her arms around her chest, covering them. She didn't want who ever was going to walk in here see her breasts. She thought about the grave yard. But the city was huge, there were plenty of grave yards. And the only grave yard Belle had ever been too was the one her mother had been buried in. A sharp pain in her heart came shortly after thinking of her mother, who had died not a month and a half ago. God damn it Belle, this is not the time to mourn her! She shouted at herself. Despite telling herself to keep calm, she was indeed not calm at all. This had to be a nightmare. A strange, horrible nightmare. Trees didn't talk, or have eyes, or fly. Mourn your mother? Yes, I do believe it's been quite long enough, mourning her would be pointless. Belle screamed at the voice that popped up from out of nowhere. She whirled around, towards the door, where a man stood. He was tall, slender, with cold blue eyes and high cheekbones, and long snow white hair. Despite the white hair though, he looked like he was in his thirties. There was a large, slightly protruding scar on his forehead. There was a smirk on his lips, as he leaned against the door, obviously admiring Belle's naked body. Belle could feel a blush coming on. She was embarrassed, and angry. A man, one of her kidnappers, was checking her out, a man who knew her mother was dead. A man who said mourning her mother, the only person that Belle had ever truly had a bond with, was pointless. Anger burned in her liquid silver eyes. How dare you. She hissed. How dare you take me from my bed and lock me up like I'm your prisoner! Who do you even think you are?! She had started to shout again, by that point. She watched his face darken, and she suddenly became afraid. The hair on the back of her neck was raised, and her whole body was shaking. The more angry his face became, the more it felt like all the light and what warmth was left was being sucked away. You are actually my prisoner. He said darkly. And you are addressing King Oberon, Lord of the Dark Realm, pet. I suggest you show more respect. Belle nodded mutely. Oberon became more cheerful, that smirk was back. Come, sit, let me explain a few things to you. Belle stood where she was, her arms still covering her chest. She was cold. She wanted clothes. She didn't like the way he looked at her, and it made it even worse with the fact she was basically naked. She shook her head. But the glare that he gave her made her rush to one of the large, plush chairs that were facing each other. She crossed her legs, and shivered. You humans are so fragile. He sighed, snapping his fingers as he sat down in the other chair. Belle suddenly felt material against her skin, and looked down. A purple silky dress was suddenly on her, although the thin, almost see through material did barely anything against the cold. She uncrossed her arms from her chest. She wished she was wearing a bra. Amabella Claudette L'Clerc. Such an exqusite name. He complimented her. Why you would ever want to be called something so mundane as Belle is something I'll never understand. There was a table between them, and a bowl with grapes was on it. He popped one into his mouth. You see, Amabella, a very long time ago, one of your ancestors was greedy. His name, if I do remember correctly, was Adam Oake. Adam asked for wealth, and in return he said he would give me the next female heir. He chuckled. But, as fate would have it, she didn't appear until five hundred years later, in the form of Vanessa Oake, your mother. Belle gasped. What kind of nightmare was this, where her mom was a part of a contract that an ancestor made with a fucking demon? Oberon's face darkened again though as he continued the story. However, with the help of a woman who was very knowledgeable in the ways of the Dark Fae, your mother was able to escape her fate. What she could have never anticipated though, is you. He pointed a long elegant finger at Belle. You weren't supposed to be female. She was supposed to be the only one. And when she died, well, I was there at her funeral. I came to respect the woman who successfully escaped me. I saw you, an exact replica of Vanessa, standing there in the pouring rain with no coat to hide from it, mourning her. I didn't think it was possible, but then I saw your eyes. Your mother had those eyes, and a color like that is not easily found. He leaned back in his chair. You, Amabella, are mine now. You can blame your great-great-great-great-great-great grand father for that. Amabella just sat there, absorbing this information. This couldn't be real. But it felt so god damn real! Belle knew 95 of the time when she was in a dream. But she had to be. She looked at him, at her captor. What are you? She asked in a hushed tone. I am a Dark Fae. King of the Dark Fae. We are a race that is so much older than your own. In all due time you will learn about it. In the mean time, this is your room, that you are not allowed to leave. He stood, offering his hand to Belle. Belle, too numb from shock to even care, took his hand. She stood, and he stepped awfully close to her, brushing his thumb over her lips. Suddenly, her body was on fire. All Belle could think about was sex, sex with anyone who would give it to her. She moaned, wrapping her arms around Oberon's neck and reaching up to kiss him. He pushed her away though, and a wordless whine escaped her lips. Not tonight, pet. I'm just going to let you feel the agony of not being touched. He left the room, and someone else came in. Another man, and Belle threw herself at him.