The Seeker Ch. 04

The conflict within her was too much. The way her body responded to him so readily and easily, even as she silently cursed him and thought angrily of everything he had done, scared her. Her breathing came in panting gasps, her hips moving to meet his. As she felt that terrible wave of pleasure building back up in her again, her anger built with it, and the feeling of her anger and pleasure mixing together left her reeling. She threw her head back and cried out as the feeling boiled over, shudders of ecstasy rippling through her. He quickened his pace, frantically thrusting into her so hard she felt faint, and he strained and grunted as his own orgasm rocked through him. Hot semen shot deep into her sex and he shuddered and gripped her hair roughly as he came into her.

She felt her body melt into the mattress as the last waves of pleasure washed over her, even as she nursed her rage toward him. He stayed inside of her, their bodies still locked together, his cock still pulsing against her tight walls. He looked down at her with still, heavy lidded eyes. "You're a bastard, you know that?" she whispered softly, trying and failing to swallow the tears that were rushing up in response to the horrible complexity of her situation.

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down and gently kissed each of her eyelids, then the corners of her mouth. "You fight yourself as much as you fight me, keonai mouv. Eventually your fight will run out, and you will feel better."

She turned her face away and tried to crawl out from underneath him. With a sigh, he withdrew from her and pulled his arms around her. Sticky semen ran down her thighs as he tucked her into the crook of his arm, laying down beside her. She struggled against him, growling her displeasure. He lifted two fingers to her forehead. "Sleep, Laiyla. You need to recover still."

She felt a thick curtain falling over her, pulling her towards unconsciousness. Before the darkness swallowed her, she murmured sleepily into his chest. "Don't tell me what to do."

He smiled at his little Fae's defiant spirit after such a pleasing performance and held her closer as she drifted into sleep.

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She awoke to the enticing aroma of fresh bread and tomato and basil soup. Cautiously, she opened a single eye and saw Sonya setting a tray down on the center table, carefully examining the amount of soup sloshed over the rims of the two bowls. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she looked toward Laiyla and beamed at her when she found her awake. Laiyla smiled back and opened both eyes, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head while holding her knees to her naked chest. The sticky semen that had coated her thighs when she had fallen asleep had been washed off, and she could have sworn that lavender oils had been rubbed into her sore skin.

She stopped stretching and struggled out of the great bed, holding the blanket to her naked figure. She looked back to Sonya, who was watching her with wide eyes, a look of horror on her face. Laiyla paused and gestured for Sonya to come closer. Sonya took several heavy steps toward her. The closer she got, the wider her eyes went. The color drained from her face as Sonya looked down at her friend. Laiyla held out her hands, and when Sonya took them, she gently pushed reassuring images into the cook's startled mind.

Sonya opened her mouth and a high-pitched whine escaped. She held two fingers up to Laiyla, and Laiyla dutifully lowered her head so Sonya could touch her forehead. In a sickening flash, Laiyla saw herself as Sonya saw her. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken and dark. Her hair hung around her too-skinny shoulders in messy, tangled curls. Her body was thin and had lost too much of her lithe, powerful muscles in the short time she had been trapped in the cabin.

The worst of it was the bruises. Handprints gripped her arms and wrists. Shadows haunted her thighs. Her right cheek was dark and purple from where he had struck her days before. She looked haggard, beaten. She shuddered and pulled away from Sonya.

"Nothing your delicious soup won't be able to fix, Sonya. Thank you for bringing it to me." Sonya looked at her uncertainly, doubtful, but proud to have brought her friend what she needed. Turning, she gestured excitedly toward the bedroom door, where two giant crates sat side by side. Sonya pressed her fingers to Laiyla's forehead and showed her the crates being delivered this morning, supervised by Venlen himself. Clothes for you, Sonya conveyed to her through their special link.

Laiyla jumped up and ran over to the first of the crates, throwing the lid open. She rifled excitedly through the contents, and then moved to the next trunk, lifting the lid and quickly looking through the clothes. The trunks were massive and must have taken four men each to carry to the room. Clothes of every sort were contained in the trunks. Tunics and trousers, leather pants, sleeping clothes and chemises, formal gowns, light and flowy dresses, boots and slippers, and lacy underthings that made Laiyla blush deeply.

On one side of the second trunk, stacks of books lined the edge. She pulled them out one by one, examining the thick leather covers with excited glee. There was a variety of genres contained here. Histories, legendary novels, classic stories and philosophy. There was even an instructional book about growing plants. She marveled at the thick bindings, at the obvious age and value of some of the older works. She placed them one by one on the floor next to the trunks and looked back.

A heavy wooden box in the second trunk contained a stunning selection of precious jewels. Sapphire earrings, diamond necklaces, black pearl bracelets. Gemstones and emeralds and rubies. These pieces belonged in a palace, adorning a queen. When had he the time to acquire all of this?

She went back to the first trunk and brought out a slim knee length dress made up of a slinky, light fabric. She slipped it over her head and straightened it down around her. The dress clung flatteringly to what curves she had left and moved gracefully with her as she walked back to the table. Next to the tray sat a small box with a note.

A gift, returned to you.

I shall see you tonight.

- Dev

She opened the box cautiously, Sonya watching her wearily as if an awful insect might be waiting. Instead, Eila's leaf-shaped pendant on a silver chain lay nestled in the velvet layers of the small box. She gently picked it up, her eyes filling with tears. Sonya peered at it, then looked at Laiyla's crestfallen face, and held her hand out, gesturing for the necklace. Laiyla gave it to her, and Sonya walked behind her to fasten the necklace around Laiyla's neck. Finished with her task, Sonya walked back to face Laiyla, appraising her with kind eyes. She lifted her fingers to Laiyla's forehead and showed her an image of herself wearing the necklace.

The necklace was glowing.

Laiyla looked down but could see nothing special about the silver leaf that hung between the small swells of her breasts. She looked up at Sonya with a question on her face. Sonya nodded reassuringly, and pressed two fingers back to her forehead, again showing her an image of herself wearing the glowing necklace. This is what I see, Sonya seemed to be telling her. She smiled at the cook and sat down at the cedarwood table, gesturing to the seat next to her for Sonya to sit with her. Sonya sat with a humph and reached over to pull one of the bowls from the tray. Laiyla took her own bowl, savoring the wonderful smell of the soup that for some reason reminded her of her childhood.

Laiyla didn't always like to think of her childhood. The memories it invoked could quickly change from nostalgic pockets of innocent happiness to darker moments of brooding and despair. She had been born to an important family, the last in a long line of royalty in a land far removed from where she was now. Her father was a man of evil, a ruthless and sadistic killer in his role as the patriarch. She never knew him. She grew up far removed from his influence, raised by trusted friends of her mother. A good and kind Fae couple, they took her in and loved her as their own at great risk to themselves. Where she would have been treated with cruelty and shown only pain, she was raised to know love and compassion.

She knew her mother only as an aunt who would visit occasionally, an aunt with a strange accent and a kind and gentle demeanor. She spoke the common tongue, while Laiyla's first language was the old Oden. Laiyla had always looked forward to her rare visits. She felt drawn to her in an insistent and instinctive way. The Fae was the epitome of beauty. Tall and slender, with an ethereal glow to her perfect creamy skin. Her pointed ears were always framed with an elaborate floral crown, gathered from plants found along the journey. As soon as she arrived, she would take her crown and place it gently upon Laiyla's head. Laiyla would wear it until it fell apart, the enchanted flowers lasting long weeks of play.

Laiyla was called Torri then, a spirited if not short statured youngling knowing nothing but happiness and love. Her parents taught her about the interconnectedness of all things, of all life, in ways that were deep and flawed and beautiful. They taught her how to grow plants, how to work the land. Not yet aware of the depth of her powers, she used her Fae blood to encourage the life of the things that she grew; the trees surrounding their cozy bungalow house, the plants in their garden where they would gather vegetables before evening meal each day, the fruit trees in the back where she loved to lay between the fragrant blossoms during spring, closing her eyes and dreaming of a future of adventure.

It wasn't until she reached puberty that her Seeker abilities became apparent. The first time she spoke to a tree, she thought it was a dream. The apple tree beneath her fingers had shown her all the fruit hanging from its branches that were ripe and ready to be picked. It expressed happiness at the way that she sang to it in the afternoons, after her lessons, her song swirling with magic from the ancient Oden words to reach up into the highest branches, encouraging them to reach further and grow stronger. She had opened her eyes, breaking contact with the tree. Everything had seemed brighter, more colorful. She could hear more of the forest life around her than she had ever been able to, had felt her skin tingle with the knowledge of all the ways in which she was connected to the many living things around her. When she looked down, she could see glowing green webs that looked like roots branching from the place where her feet touched the ground. They linked her to the life around her, and she felt them, reveling in all the different ways life could feel to different creatures.

She could not understand the overwhelming look of sadness in the eyes of her parents as she told them of what had happened. She thought maybe she had gone mad or had done some terrible wrong. The feeling of dread that had been slowly taking hold nearly doubled her over when they told her they were sending her away.

Lost in her thoughts, Laiyla slurped steaming spoonsful of tomato basil soup and pushed images of her childhood home to Sonya, gazing into the distance as she recalled events from her past.

Her aunt had come for a visit shortly after, taken her hand gently to lead her to the main room. She had sat them both down in front of the fireplace, arranging the folds of her robin egg's blue gown around her crossed legs. She had taken both of Laiyla's hands, and then she had destroyed her world.

Laiyla learned of her true identity. She was not Torri, daughter of Len and Vanessa, simple Fae farmers in a village that still clung to vestiges of the past by refusing to let go of the old Oden language, the magic in the ancient words still alive and powerful on their lips. She was Laiyla, daughter of the royal family of Prevaria, a land shrouded in darkness by the deeds of its evil ruler. Her father.

Her father's mother, a small but powerful and severe woman who sat at his right side, was the last known Seeker after a mass purging of Seeker blood by the King. He was afraid of others having the kind of power that his mother wielded for his benefit. She had made the kingdom bow to him. She had become just as corrupt as her son, a formidable force of darkness that worked to maintain his position on the thrown, and hers beside it.

Her mother had not been a willing Queen. Taken at a tender age from a boy she loved desperately, she had been forced to stand in front of the King in a long line of fawning females, all vying for his intimate attentions. She had been the only one who hadn't felt flattered at being chosen as a possible mate. She had wanted to go home and thought she might be able to slip away back to her small village once the King had chosen one of these beautiful, eager girls for his bed. She was horrified when he moved to stand in front of her, inspecting her like he was buying a horse from an auction. Without so much as speaking to her, he dismissed the rest of the disappointed flock and hid her away until their wedding.

What should have been the happiest day of her life was one of sorrow and pain. Her heart ached for the boy left back in the village and she felt dread and revulsion against the man she knew to be an unforgiving and unfair ruler. She had conceived Laiyla that night, had known instantly that she was with child, with the way that growing green light had flared up in her momentarily before resting again nestled deep in her womb.

As Laiyla grew in her belly, her power became undeniable. She knew she could not let the King have her, could not let her be corrupted and turned to perform acts of great evil to his bidding as the last terrible Seeker had. The power she felt igniting within her in the dead of night was one of love and pure light, and she would not let it fall into darkness. Risking everything, her heart shattering into a million pieces, she had reached out to a sympathetic midwife to plan an act of terrible mercy.

The night of her labor, she had held the naked babe in her arms, sobbing with infinite sorrow. She had kissed trembling lips to the infant's forehead and spoke the name that had been calling to her for months. Laiyla.

Named in secret, spirited away at birth, replaced with a stillborn from a neighboring village, raised by parents who had risked everything to take her in, Laiyla had sat across from her mother who still held her shaking hands in her own and cried.

Quietly, quickly, powerful Fae women gathered to send her off. Before she left, they had woven the old Oden words together in a spell to place the tattoos on her wrists, creating the illusionary bond in hopes of discouraging power-hungry males from trying to force the sacred ritual. They warned her of the danger of being bound, of what might happen if her powers fell into the wrong hands. They encouraged her to find someone she thought she could love, someone kind and good, and rid herself of the risk quickly. Then they had gathered around her, the woman who had raised her and her real mother pressing hurried kisses over her face, her father wrapping her in a quick, strong hug, and linked their hands together, chanting powerful incantations. Laiyla had closed her eyes against the tears of being forced away from everything she had ever known and loved. The strong voices around her began melting away. When she opened her eyes, they were barely whispers, and she was in a new place. As far as she knew, it was a world away from where she had just been. Eila had been there, waiting for her. She had wrapped her up in a long embrace, Laiyla sobbing into the velvety fabric of her white dress. "Shhh, sweet girl. You're safe now." She had promised.

She had never asked Eila what sort of life she had sacrificed to stay by her side. The two Fae females moved together throughout the forest, never staying long in one place for fear of those who would sense Laiyla's terrible power and try to take it for their own.

Laiyla stared at the empty bowl of soup in front of her. She looked up and found Sonya looking at her queerly. She shook her head, clearing her mind of the still tender memories. Venlen had hinted that she should know who he was. Somehow, he knew who she was, which suggested he had come from that land of her past. He spoke Oden, which meant he was tied to the old magic. He had removed the markings on her wrists, which meant he had been powerful before he had ever considered having her bound, had ever known it was possible. But she knew little of the world outside her forest, and try as she might, she could not venture a guess as to his identity beyond the reisnaig slur she favored calling him.

All she knew of her land after she had left was that a terrible war had finally removed the royal family from power. Her real parents and the siblings her mother bore had been slaughtered, publicly executed. Her grandmother, the only other living Seeker left, had vanished for years, only to be found hanging dead from the castle gates one morning, a message to any remaining resistance to the new rule. How Eila had kept word with the land of her past, she had never known, nor asked. It was easier for her, the less she looked back on her past.

Eila had helped her learn her magic, had helped her strengthen her connection to the life around her nestled safely in the forest. The trees had always warned her when someone was hunting her, and she had always been able to keep them safe. The darker things she could do with her magic were always kept safely hidden, even from herself. She had never felt tempted to use it for her own gain. She only ever used her ability to hurt others in self-defense, when she or members of her clan were in danger.

She had been able to lock up part of her power before she had been bound. She felt for it now, felt the reassuring pulse of warm, green light. Eila told her she had been smart to keep it from him, that it had saved them both. Even still, that had only been a very small part of herself. A precious part, but a small part just the same. He still had control of the terrible power now at his command. He needed to be close to her in order to use it but had made no move to take her with him, even to test out the limit of his new abilities with her at his side. She wondered why he was waiting. Didn't he have armies to conquer, or villages to plunder?

Laiyla tore at the bread and nibbled absently at it. Sonya watched her, waiting for the Fae girl to come back from wherever her thoughts had taken her. She was eager for more images of the new place she had been shown, the cozy house framed by towering pines and green life growing everywhere. Finally, after what felt like hours but really could have been no more than twenty minutes, Laiyla glanced up at her and smiled, her eyes flickering with some new hope. "Sonya, does he let you go outside?"

Sonya nodded her head enthusiastically, her large earlobes jostling with the sudden movement. "Could you... Do you think you could..." Laiyla worried at her lower lip, her eyes scanning the table as if looking for something.

"Sonya," she started again, looking up at her friend. "I have an idea."

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Venlen looked over the papers on his desk, ensuring everything was in order. It was critical that he give her time to adjust, but he was eager to leave. Preparations had been made and his men were waiting to move on his command. With her bound to him so recently, the connection so fresh and raw, it was important that he stay close by, making sure she understood the limits of her new position. He had avoided channeling any of her abilities until she grew accustomed to his presence. In time, she would grow to appreciate his claim to her. But for now, her relentless resistance made it difficult for him to consider testing the power he now felt through their bond.