TW: RAPE

I must've passed out as the next thing I know, I open my eyes to the Prince laying me down on his bed with a hungry look in his eye. He tucks my hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek before his hands begin traveling lower, and lower down my body. They go to my chest, my waist, my hips, before returning to my chest once more. I muster up every ounce of strength I can manage and raise my arm, weakly gripping his wrist in an attempt to push him off of me.

What is wrong with me...?

"I suppose what I put in your drink was too strong," he grabs my hand and kissing the back. "Don't be scared, it'll wear off shortly."

"P-Please, Francis..." my voice fades, and my arm goes limp.

As I close my eyes, I hear him whisper, "I'll take good care of you."

Suddenly, I'm conscious again. Quite some time has passed, as the Prince is on top of me, shirtless, hair down and sweat beads rolling off his muscular shoulders, and I, too, am now fully unclothed. He catches my eye and he smirks as he begins to move, and pain shoots up my body. I am still too weak to get him off of me, and even if I had the strength, he had tied my wrists together to the bed post. "I've dreamt of this for so long," he moans, his hands exploring my chest. "I love you, (Name)."

Please, let this be a horrible nightmare.

I turn my face away from him, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Stop..." I whisper, but he doesn't seem to hear me, or just doesn't care, as he continues. My vision fades to black once again.

.
.

I open my eyes and find myself lying on his bed in the dark, the Prince nowhere to be found. I finally have found my strength— whatever he drugged me with has long worn off by now. I slowly turn my gaze down towards my body; it's covered in bruises and bite marks, and my stomach churns. I sit up, my hands gripping my shoulders for some kind, any kind, of comfort. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and go to stand up, I keel over in pain; my back hurts, my hips hurt— by the Gods, everything hurts.

Never in my life had I been taken advantage of like that. Hell, even the "wretched" Pirate King did not touch me when I was incapacitated. In fact, the one kiss we shared was so, so gentle. So full of love.

Nothing like how I feel right now.

I clutch my chest, panic setting in as I realize this was my reality, and not a dream. I push myself to my feet and find my undergarments and throw them on before making my way out of the room, wandering the endless halls. I pass guard after guard, and notice all of their heads are down, avoiding my eyes. The few maids I passed seemed to avoid my gaze, too.

They all know.

As soon as I reach my bedroom and close the door behind me, I rip the clothes from my body, falling to the floor, screaming as loud as I can into the carpet.

I feel disgusting.

I feel dirty.

I feel... empty.

I raise my head and with tears streaming down my face, I look at the horn the Vikings left with me all those years ago. I drag myself along the floor over to it, getting to my knees and reaching up to grab it off of the dresser, and sink back to the floor, clutching it tightly to my chest. After a while, I pull myself to my feet and walk over to the balcony I had yet to explore. Walking outside the glass doors, I take a breath as the wind caresses my skin, the silence from the Empire was heavy, but lighter than what was weighing in my heart in this moment.

I fiddle with it for a while before raising the horn to my lips and blow as hard as I can. The tone was beautiful and powerful; you could hear my anger, and also my defeat. I blow in it again, the sound fading more quickly this time as my breath is interrupted with sobs. I look at the horn, clenching my jaw harder and harder the longer I look at it, and throw it against the ground. The second I see the horn shatter, the anger in me is no longer directed towards the Prince, but at myself. I sink to my knees once more as I desperately attempt to clean up all of the pieces. I gently cup them in my hands as walk back inside, laying them on the nightstand next to my bed— the damage is done. There's nothing I can do about it now. I collapse onto my bed, and lay there until I fall asleep.

"Jeg elsker dig, min kære." Those kind, blue eyes smile gently down at me. He leans down, and I watch as his hands go to place the locket around my neck, and I slap his hands away. "(Name)?"

"Don't leave me here, Mathias," my voice trembles as I pound my fists against his chest. "You have no idea of what I am to go through. Mo is going to die and I am going to be stolen from my home," I clutch the fabric of his shirt tightly. "A horrible man is going abuse me. Please," I plead, "Let me stay. Help me avoid all of this pain."

His eyes were warm and kind, and he brushes his fingers through my hair, pulling me close to touch his forehead to mine. "We know, (Name). We know the trials you are to face by this decision, but we also know the dreaded fate that awaits you if you stay." I back away, just enough to get a look at his face. "We have always known you, (Name)," he cups my cheek. "Hundreds of years ago, we knew you." His eyes fill with tears as he stares at me. He looks at me with such loving eyes, his thumb stroking my skin. "By the Gods, how you've grown."

Kirkland's POV

After hours of torture and imprisonment in a dark isolation cell, I am dragged before the Empire's throne, where the Prince snickers at the sight of me. "Looks like you had some fun with my soldiers. Do those cuts and bruises hurt? My, you've even got a black eye."

The cell guards had each taken their turn punishing me for my crimes, without direct orders from the Prince to do so, which is against the law, though I know none of them were going to be punished for it. "You should see the other guy," I respond, sarcastically.

"Ah, yes, I do remember getting a report. One of them was sent to the infirmary for— a broken arm, was it?" The Prince sighs, rolling his eyes in disappointment, "I ordered them not to touch you, but you know how prison guards are," he stands, his lips curling into a smirk, "They don't like to listen."

"What the hell do you want, Francis?"

"Because you were once dear to me, I've decided to give you the privilege of a choice," the Prince crosses his arms, walking circles around me. "As per our agreement, I shall return House Kirkland to noble status, and you shall head it as your father's chosen inheritor. Not only will the Empire forgive your debts, but those of your cousin and brothers as well. You will all be free to return to the Empire's nobility as if scandal had never befell your family name. As an added benefit, I will also pardon the entirety of your crew, and give them Tealin citizenships, as well."

Without hesitation, I shoot back, "And what of the girl?"

"Also, as per our agreement, you shall leave the girl and the Pendulum in my care. She shall become my wife— your Queen."

"... And if I refuse?"

"You die here," Francis grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back sharply, "And the rest of the Kirkland family line will be wiped out right alongside you."

My eyes shoot open at the realization that it is no longer just my life in danger, but those of everyone whom I've loved. Even so... "I love her, Francis," I look up at him. "You know that. You've always known."

"I've imprisoned a very loyal confidant of mine because he stuck his heart where it did not belong. The girl was mine first, she was mine since she was born." 

"She is all I have."

"You had your mother," Francis sneers at me. I grit my teeth-- he always knew how to hit me where it hurt. "She died alone in that place, her own husband and sons having abandoned her."

"Because you banished us!"

"That I did," he responds, sarcastically.

Then, something clicks. "Francis, how did you know that I was my father's chosen inheritor?" We had been banished before he ever reported his choice to the King.

The Prince smirks and gets close to my ear, whispering, "Imagine how she felt when I sent the Royal Guard to massacre her remaining servants."

My gaze falls to the floor, remembering my mother's corpse clutching the photo of our family.

They invaded the estate...

"I know exactly how your father felt when I had his beloved sister and her husband murdered," he mentions casually as he stands back up and walks to the throne, laughing heartily. "He became deranged-- practically demented!"

"... What did you just say?"

"He was practically demented?" Francis wipes a tear from his eye, sitting on his throne.

"You killed them?!" I get to my feet and launch myself at him, and with a snap of his fingers, I am detained, once again.

"Your Highness," a Royal butler bows at the foot of the throne, then ascends the small staircase to whisper in his ear.

The Prince perks up before turning his gaze back to me. "I'll give you until the morrow to make your decision. Throw him back in his cell; I have an important guest I need to attend to."

Third Person POV

Francis exits the Throne room and takes multiple hidden doors and hallways down to a secret meeting spot, somewhere near his personal port. A hallway of pillars line his way to his special guest, each pillar adorned with a guard with a crossbow, additional guards stationed overhead in hidden access points near the ceiling. He smiles and holds his arms up in welcome, addressing the tall, dark haired man standing at the open end of the cave-like hallway. "Abbadon, long time, no see, my friend."

"Prince Francis," the man bows his head, just slightly. "The Gods of Lastania have blessed you, I see."

"Wrong continent, Abbadon. You are in the Tealin Empire," Francis wags a teasing finger at him. "We do not pray to the Gods of Lastania."

"My apologies, it is a habit."

Francis cuts to the chase, crossing his arms, "Did you find the girl?" It seems as though he is attempting to trap him in a lie.

Abbadon, surprisingly, shakes his head. "I followed every tip you sent, but I did not find her," he takes a step forward, seemingly challenging the Prince, "Though, I did get a peculiar piece of information that the girl is already within the Castle walls."

The blonde stares up at him with unwavering confidence, "Ah, yes. I'm sorry I did not send word sooner. The girl just arrived."

"I see," Abbadon forces a smile. "You must be relieved."

"Indeed, I am overjoyed to be reunited with my betrothed."

They sit in tense silence for a few moments, waiting to see who will bend to the other's will. Abbadon is the first to break the silence: "I will not take up any more of your time. I am merely here to retrieve the Pendulum, and to wish you good fortune in your marriage." Francis cannot contain his laughter as he takes a few steps away from the brute to lean on one of the pillars of the hallway."Is something funny, Prince Francis?"

Between laughing fits, Francis manages to respond. "You, my friend. You are funny!"

"The girl is here," Abbadon growls, annoyed. "Hand over the Pendulum."

"No," his laughter instantly ceases, and Francis shakes his head, his expression pure mockery. "I don't think I will."

Abbadon's voice booms and echoes in the Royal Chamber, "What?!"

"Why would I honor our deal when you are not the man who brought her to me?" The Prince confidently strides up to him, knowing full well Abbadon would not dare hurt the Crown Prince in his own home-- especially if he knew the amount of crossbows currently aimed at his head. "Even if you had successfully completed your mission, did you really think I would just hand this legendary piece over to you? Do you think I am stupid, Abbadon? That I wouldn't figure out the true power of the Pendulum?" Abbadon grunts and begins to unsheathe his sword, to which Francis gently places his hand on the hand holding the hilt. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you." Abbadon glances around at all of the arrows aiming for his head, and Francis pats his hand. "You have been loyal to me for many years, Abbadon, and for that I will spare you life for threatening mine. I suggest you board your ship and make your way back to Lastania at once. With the Pirate King in my custody, the Empire's Navy, currently, does not have anyone to hunt down-- I would hate for their next target to be you."

"Is that a threat, Francis?"

"It is a promise, you Lastanian reject."

"I am Tealin's Shadow Man; you are the one who bestowed that title upon me many moons ago."

"I was a child," Francis rolls his eyes. "Did you truly think I would not catch on to your pitiful attempts at manipulating me?"

"I have never tried to manipulate you."

"Yet, you never mentioned what the Pendulum could actually do," the Prince taps his chin. "Why else would you want me to remain in the dark on the subject?"

Abbadon glares at the Prince, "I've done nothing but follow every order you've given me for the last thirteen years."

"And for that, I commend you," he turns, waving his hand dismissively. "I hope you have a safe trip home, Abbadon. If they allow you to cross the sea border without blowing your ship to bits, that is."

The Lastanian man unsheathes his sword, and a melody of crossbows click as they prepare to shoot. He growls in defeat, turning sharply to return to his ship, the tip of his sword scratching the floor beneath him as he retreats. Francis stops and turns to watch him leave, a twisted smile on his lips.

Everything was going exactly as he had planned.