0 comments/ 2811 views/ 10 favorites Rainstone Ch. 01 By: Daniellekitten The whip scoured over her flesh. It left flickering trails of fire across her skin, the pain almost too much for her to bear. She hung from her wrists, from where he'd tied her when she'd once more displeased him. Who was he? Her father, the king of the Fourth Kingdom and ruler of all the lands he could see. He was a tyrant and a bully, beating his only daughter when he found fault with something in his palace. That was her charge, to run his kingdom, leaving him to play with his whores, to fulfill his fantasies and to drink himself into ruin. His heart raced now as he lifted the whip once more, the knotted ends skittering across the stone floor and leaving a trail of blood and flesh. He let the whip sing as it came toward her back, making sure the ends flicked under her arms and struck her breast. Her screams were beautiful, lusty and pained, making his cock harden under the ornate codpiece he wore. "Enough, Your Majesty. Soon she will be scarred and then who will want to marry her? You must think of her worth upon a marriage contract." Smeadly Aloysius was quick to hurry to his king's side. He stroked the king's hand as he spoke, whispering the words urgently into the man's ear. "She is of marrying age, Majesty. It is time she brought some wealth to your people." "To my people, Smeadly? Or perhaps you mean to you?" He glanced over to where his daughter hung, her head bowed, her ebony colored waves of hair sticking to the blood on her back. What skin was left unmarked was clear and creamy, making his hand itch to lift the whip once more. "Release her," he called to two of his men who stood staring in horror at what their king had done. "Send her to her chamber and have her maid attend her. I will see her upon the morrow." He tossed the whip to one of the boys standing close by, bidding him to clean it and return it to his possession post haste. Then he returned to his meal and the company of his favorite of the castle's whores, a slovenly blonde who fawned over him. She had fed him the best of the food upon the platter, letting him lick his wine from her over-blown breasts, laughing at everything he had to say. Neither watched as the young girl, barely eighteen years of age, was cut down from her bonds, carried gently out of the room and up to the third storey of the huge castle to where her father had banished her years ago after the death of his beloved wife. * * * * Anya Rainstone roused as the pain of her wounds became almost too much to handle. She managed not to scream as she was placed, belly down, upon her bed. A shiver of cold overcame her as metal pressed against her spine and then she heard a rip as the rest of her dress was torn from her, pulled gently from under her, leaving her naked upon the bed. She heard a soft moan and then a hand was upon her slender thighs, stroking her flesh. Anya wanted to move, to get away from that hand but even the littlest of moves made her back burn like fire. Fingers wandered over her bottom, stopping to squeeze the firm flesh before pushing between her thighs, pressing into her dry flesh. She was unprepared for what happened next. Another hand landed upon her leg, pulling it away from her other, opening her to the fingers that invaded her privacy. She tried to shift that leg closed once more but the hand held it open easily. "No," she moaned softly, barely able to breathe as the fingers that were slipping over the now wet flesh of her sex began to ply soft caresses to her clit, coaxing that tiny bud of flesh to peep from beneath its hood, standing straight and hard. It almost seemed to beg for more as her hips began to dance against the hand. Tiny whimpers of pain and pleasure came from between her parted lips. Her lips had once been so lovely but were now cracked and bleeding since she'd bitten them to keep from screaming as long as she could. She denied her father some of his pleasures, making him work hard to get anything from her. Her cheeks grew flush; her head began to spin as the hand between her thighs found the virgin portal to her core. It circled the soft, sensitive flesh, gathering her moisture and using it to pleasure her clit. "She's going to come upon my hand," a rough male voice said. "Oh, aye, that she is. She's so beautiful, I want her to come on my cock," his partner said, his hand moving from the inside of her thigh to poke roughly at her. "I want to take that virginity." "You cannot, no matter what her father does to her; she's still a royal princess of the seven kingdoms." Anya heard their talk but she didn't care. Her body felt empty even as they continued to touch and caress her. She felt feverish and needy inside like she'd never felt before. Is this what the women of the court talked about? If it was, she wanted more. She mewled, feeling something tightening inside of her, pushing her body back against those two hands. Even when a finger was pressed against her small rosebud, she didn't protest, only cried out as a burning pain mixed with the pleasure. "I knew she'd like this," the crude voice of the rough man said. He pushed inside of her until he could go no further, pulling out to add another finger, using the creamy moisture of her cunt to stretch that sweet rosebud. "I can't take her virginity down there, but no one said a princess had to keep her back door pure." With that, he climbed up on the bed and slapped the smooth, ivory buttocks of the princess. "You can't do that to her back," the other man said, hurrying his caress, wanting the princess to feel some pleasure in her life. "I ain't going to do nothing to her back," the man said, yanking on the ties that held his codpiece closed. With a growl, he spit on his hand, coating his cock with saliva before angling it down toward her hole. "She's going to love this." The other man pulled his hand out, lifting his fingers to his nose as he watched his friend begin to push through the tough ring of muscle that clenched to keep him out. He could smell the princess upon his hand, her arousal rich and fragrant, better than the most exotic perfume. "Quit fighting me, Princess," the man growled, slapping a hand against one beautifully pale buttock and leaving a bright red print upon it. "You'll like this, just stop fighting and let me in." * * * * The pleasure was gone, the hand that had been so delicately taking her to places she'd never been before had deserted her. Now there was just the rough hands of the other. Anya cried out as he pushed his ugly hardness into her, the head finally pushing past where she'd tried so hard to keep him out. He moved against her in a jerky motion that sent waves of pain through the marks on her back, tearing open the ones that had begun to scab and sending fresh blood to pool on her lower back and drip onto the bed. But that pain was nothing compared to what she was feeling in her bottom. "No!" she tried to shout, but it came out as little more than a whimper. "Please, it hurts." "You're raping her," the one guard said to the other who was now grunting as he tried to push more of himself inside the beautiful princess. "What the hell do you think you were doing to her?" the other man grunted. Anya couldn't hear their words; all she could do was wiggle against the pain and pray for it to end. She dug her nails into the sheets, her face buried in her pillow as another slap was delivered to her already sore buttocks. "Hold still, bitch!" Then suddenly he was gone. Voices surrounded the bed, some shocked, some more concerned than anything else. "My princess," her maid, Sonya called to her quietly, covering her to the waist with a clean sheet, "I am sorry I was delayed." Tears fell down Sonya's pale cheeks and she knew she would be called to explain where she was while the royal princess was being raped by the guards sent to keep her safe. She would take her punishment as long as she wasn't removed from service of the princess. She loved the abused woman like a sister for they'd been raised together. Another thought had her grimacing in fear. If she was removed from the princess's side, she would no longer be protected from King Philonius. The king had kept a royal eye upon her since she was sixteen summers and only the protection of the princess had kept him from ripping away her virginity, taking her in the hall in front of his troops. If she pleased him, he would keep her. If not, well, his troops weren't known for their gentleness. "My princess," Sonya said again, carefully pulling Anya's hair from out of the frightful wounds upon her back. "Open your eyes. Those men are gone and you are safe." Anya opened her eyes, staring around her with trepidation. "Get rid of them," she whispered. "You heard the princess," Sonya said. "Out." "But her wounds..." the local healer began. "She said out, she meant out. If we need you, we shall summon you once more." She ushered him out in front of her, taking the pot of salve he held out to her. "Use that on her back. It can be used on her...well, anywhere else that might hurt as well," the man said, his cheeks growing red. "Thank you, I shall be sure to tell the princess of your generosity." The healer bowed his head. He'd been called here for the princess more times than any other member of the royal household. Their king was a villain, evil in every way. He was lazy and slothful, but was too skilled with the sword for anyone to try to wrest his lands away. He surrounded himself with others who were just like him, making the royal court a place of little but libidinous pleasure where young women were stripped of their honor, sent packing back to their homes in shame. He'd delivered many offspring born from that shame, he'd seen too many men and women abused and crippled by these men. But the most he could do for the princess was to carry her secrets and hide the king's abuse. He prayed every day for someone to come and rescue this kingdom, but its secrets stayed secret, its wounds healed but lay festered beneath the new skin. He would hide this shame as well, though with a heavy heart and self-hatred. * * * * Anya felt Sonya's soft hands on her wounds and hissed. Even as gentle as Sonya was, the whipping had been severe and she felt every touch. "I want to get dressed," Anya said. "Oh, no, Princess. You can't move. These will tear open and bleed anew." Anya used the same forceful will that had her taking the whipping without screaming and pushed herself to a seated position on the side of the bed. "You will attend me, Sonya. I am going to the pond. Find me my breeches and shirt." Sonya did as she was bid, grumbling every moment of the while. "Princess, it is dark, there are strangers about. It is not safe for you to ride the countryside alone." "Then you shall come with me, but I am going, Sonya. I need to go." Sonya watched as the princess struggled into the boy's breeches and the billowing white shirt. It stuck to her back where the blood still flowed, staining the pristine white shirt with crimson stripes. Sonya knelt at her side, slipping shoes on the princess's tiny feet before helping her up. "You're determined to do this?" she asked the pale faced girl. Anya couldn't speak, she nodded her head, swaying at the pain it caused to make even that tiny of a move. She couldn't stay here though. She could feel the danger creeping around her like an insidious monster. "I'll have horses brought around," Sonya said, heading toward the door. Anya's pained whisper stopped her. "No, my father would hear of any horses being called for. I do not want him to know I'm going, Sonya. We'll leave by the side gate and take the path through the woods to the clearing. The moon is full tonight; we shall have plenty of light to see by." "And the beasts of the forest will have plenty of light to choose the tenderest parts of our bodies to feast upon. Anya, you're not thinking right. You were raped and your father beat you. You should be in bed, healing not wanting to traipse all over the country." Sonya stood, hands upon her slim hips as she blocked the young princess from reaching the door. "I-I don't think I can let you do this." Anya smiled, wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead. "Let me?" "I-I, well, I could go to your father and tell him your plans." "You won't do that though." Anya leaned against the wall, gathering her strength. "Climb into my bed, Sonya and pretend to be me. If you are found out, tell them that I forced you to do it." She pushed past her maid, amazed when the girl stepped meekly out of her path. "Thank you." "You won't be thanking me when you reside in the belly of some foul beast," Sonya grumped, pulling on the laces that held her gown closed. She slid it off, laying it carefully over a chair before climbing into the bed in her shift and bloomers. Punching the pillows, she beat them into submission since she couldn't do the same to the princess. Candles were blown out and then Sonya saw a quick glimpse of light as the princess slipped out of the room. "She'll be the death of both of us," she muttered, turning on her side and staring moodily out at the full moon that lit up the night. Rainstone Ch. 02 The pain was almost more than she could stand, but Anya kept going. Her mind was locked on one thing, the relief she would find when she slid into the pond with its cool water. There were willow trees that hung close to the pond, from them she would gather bark and have Sonya brew it into a tea for her. It would help with the pain. She would have to keep moving though, if she wanted to avoid the stiffness that would have her walking like an old woman. Concentrating upon putting one foot in front of the other, she didn't see the prints in the soft ground of the trail, prints made by horse hoofs. If she had, she might have changed her mind about the pond and gone back to the castle. The clearing was as beautiful as always, flowers blooming and lending their scents to the soft night air. The pond was so still, not a ripple of water disturbed its mirror-like surface. She made her way slowly to the edge and leaned over, staring at her reflection. She looked like a harpy or some other mythical harridan, with her hair stiffened with blood and sticking out from her head. Her eyes were too large in her pale face and a trail of dried blood marred her chin and trickled from the split in her torn lip. She pulled at the buttons on the shirt, forcing them open and pulling the shirt off from where it had stuck to her back. Her breath hissed between lips clamped shut from pain but she finally had it off. The pants were easier though blood had dried on the back waistband, leaving the material stiff and sticky. She slid the shoes off, glad that Sonya had given her a pair of her slippers instead of the boots she usually wore with this outfit. Naked, she crept hunched over toward the pond once more, slipping her foot into the water and shivering a bit at the touch. It would grow warm quickly, the temperature warm from the heat of the sun, she knew for she came here often. The pond had a soft, sandy bottom and she waded out to where she knew the drop-off was. The water was lapping at her waist when she reached it and she took the final step that would send her down into the black depths where the water was well over her head. She stayed there until her lungs felt as if they would burst, wishing as she always did that she could find a way to grow gills and maybe a tail like the stories her mother used to tell her of beautiful mermaids. She would swim far from this castle and her father, not stopping until she thought she was safe. Then she would sun herself upon a rock, brushing out her long hair and whiling away her days with playing in the waves. No more duties, no more pain, no more of her father, what more could she wish for? She could see the moon above her as she kicked toward the surface. It was as if it was waiting for her. Breaking the surface of the water, she sighed in relief as the pain ebbed. "Is that truly what you wish for?" Anya screeched, turning in the water until she saw the being who'd asked the question. "Who are you?" she gasped. The creature was small, not much bigger than a child barely able to walk. But he was no child. He was well made, slim hipped and wide in the shoulders with a handsome face and a head of hair that any woman would pine for. Honey blonde, it swirled around him as he moved, held from his face by braids that were decorated with colored beads. A mustache graced his upper lip and his ears were pointed "My name is Switch," he said, bowing until his braids almost touched the ground. "I can grant your wish if that is truly what you want." "My wish...what wish?" Anya asked, bemused by the small man. "To turn your legs to tail and give you fins, to let you swim 'til land's end," he said in a sing-song voice. "I am to believe that you hold that kind of power?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as the little man stepped close to her clothes, lifting the shirt and inspecting her blood upon it. "Oh yes I do, I do indeed," Switch said. "But how to prove to you that I am what I say?" He tapped his lip with his finger looking very serious. Then he smiled. "Turn your back to me, little miss, and I will show you my power." Anya turned slowly, intrigued despite herself. The little man came closer to the pool's edge, bending and touching the water while mumbling some words that Anya couldn't hear. A soothing feeling came over her and the pain in her back stopped. She turned her head, amazed, staring down at what skin of her back that she could see. Her eyes rose from her unblemished skin. Even the old scars and welts were gone as if they'd never been there. "What did you do?" she asked, amazed at the absolutely freeing way it felt to be without the pain her father enjoyed inflicting. "I took away your pain so that you might better understand my magick," Switch said with a bow that had his long golden hair sweeping over the wide-bladed grass. "As for your other wish, to become like those who live their lives under the sea, you must be certain that this is truly what you want." "If it is to be a choice of dealing with my father's perversions and his beatings or giving up my legs to live freely in the sea, there isn't much of a choice to be made. If I could have my presence wiped from the minds of those here, I would gladly face having a tail." "I must tell you," Switch began, only to be cut off by the sound of hoof beats coming ever closer. "If it is still your wish upon the morrow, come to the clearing when the moon stands full above you. I shall be waiting." He dipped another bow and then spun so quickly, her eyes couldn't follow his movements. With a tiny puff of smoke, he was gone as if he'd never been. "What ho?" a voice called. Anya spun, sinking back into the water and trying to hide her nakedness. "Who are you girl?" The man sat upon his horse as if he were a part of it, easily calming the fidgeting beast while his eyes stayed upon the water nymph he'd discovered. The sweet little water sprite was immersed in the water up to her neck, he couldn't help the sudden rippling of arousal that had his cock twitching under his codpiece. "Well," he growled, easily stepping down from the huge horse and throwing his reins over a handy tree branch, "can you speak or are you mute, girl?" "I-I can speak," Anya squeaked out. The man smiled at the sound of nervousness in her voice. "Good," he said softly, lifting the white shirt he wore over his head and dropping it on the grass. "I had heard this clearing was magical, but never did I think I'd find a beautiful nymph here waiting for me." Anya's eyes grew wide as she watched him stripping in front of her as if he had not a care in the world. Even as her shocked eyes registered that he was reaching for the ties to his breeches, she couldn't help but admire the width of his chest or the light layer of fur that covered it. His body was scarred, speaking of years of battle and a warrior's way, but chiseled with muscle that made him look hard and invincible. She could count the muscled ridges of his stomach in even the dim light of the clearing and she felt her heart start to race. His hair was dark, cut shorter than the men of her kingdom wore theirs and he pushed his fingers through it quickly, as if seeing her eyes upon it. His lips were full, seeming meant to smile, though now he wore a frown as if he didn't know what to make of her. High cheekbones slashed ridges under his eyes, the skin hollowed slightly as if he'd missed a few meals recently. But it was his eyes that held her sway, emerald green and bright, even in the light of the moon above, they radiated an intelligence as well as pain, a pain she understood. He was as lonely as she. "Who are you?" she asked softly. "My name is Ryder," he said softly. "I come from beyond the Seventh Kingdom." "You lie," Anya said quickly. "There is nothing beyond the Seventh Kingdom." "There is," Ryder insisted, idly rubbing his chest before he sat in the grass to remove his huge boots. "My people have not the wealth or the power of the kingdoms, but we do exist. Perhaps I'll pack you into my saddle bag and take you with me. I could prove what I say then." "My father wouldn't allow it," Anya said royally, lifting her chin. "He would kill you and then punish me, believing that somehow I had attracted your attention and asked to be your hostage." "You say that as if your father held power in this land," Ryder commented, standing and wriggling out of the tight-fitting leather breeches. His cock rose in front of her, hugely impressive in size, though she had nothing really to compare it to but the feel of the one that had tried to bugger her earlier. This one looked bigger. Ryder noted her eyes on his cock and felt it twitch as a warm wave washed through him. He stroked his fist over the fat shaft, letting his fingers coat in the liquid lubricant that wept from the tip. "Come here, wench," he said softly, holding his other hand out to her. "Come and make his acquaintance." Anya shook her head but it was as if her body was in his thrall. She found the sandy bottom of the pond, standing so that the water sheeted off of her, leaving drips that sparkled in the moonlight like shimmering crystals. Her skin was flawless, her beauty such that his head spun. Her breasts rose high upon her chest, the soft pink of her nipples turning red as they hardened in the cool night air. "Be damned, wench," he groaned as she continued to come out of the water. "You're comely enough to make any man forget his place in this world." His eyes trailed over her skin, from her shoulders down over the concave planes of her stomach and then further as the wet pelt at the apex of her thighs came into view. Her thighs were strong columns of ivory flesh, curved with womanly softness that had his breath hissing into his lungs. She finally stood before him, naked as he, her eyes locked upon his. "I want you," he whispered unnecessarily for it was obvious from the shaft he still stroked. "Tell me your name so that I might know who I am thanking the goddesses for tonight." "A-An...Sonya," she quickly amended. "Sonya Bitterroot." His free hand had come up; hovering over her skin almost as if he were afraid if he touched her she would disappear. "A pretty name but not one that suits such as you." His fingers found her shoulder, his hard, callused hand moving down her spine and pulling her into his embrace. He moaned as the stiff peaks of her breasts trailed against the wide plane of his chest and then his other hand threaded though the satiny softness of her wet hair, turning her face up to his. "If you are spoken for, Sonya now is the time to tell me, for I won't be stopped once we've started." "And if I am spoken for?" she managed to ask for the heat of his body pressed so intimately against her own was short circuiting her thoughts. "Then I shall have to kill him because I don't think I can stop even now," he murmured, bending his head to find her soft lips. The first brush was like lightning, swift, electrifying and over too quickly. Then his mouth returned, teasing hers with soft touches, his tongue licking at the corners of her mouth until she opened for him. He slid his tongue into her mouth, tasting her passion, finding her own to dance and rub against it with tantalizing effects. When he lifted his head, his eyes were half closed, hazy with passion. "You have no man," he whispered, "for I swear I am the first to take these luscious lips." "Y-you are," she answered timidly, her hands sliding up his chest, stopping to play with the hair that curled at his nape. "My father would kill you if he saw us." "I do not kill easily," Ryder said, smiling down at her before dipping his head once more. He lifted her against him, her feet hanging far from the ground. "I plan upon taking you, little Sonya. Do you have any issues with that?" Anya stared up at Ryder, her eyes wide and searching. "If I had issue, my lord, would you let me leave here with my modesty intact?" "Your modesty?" Ryder smirked. "You think to tell me one so bold as you is still virginal?" "'Tis true, no man has thrust his member into me and taken my veil," she said softly, ducking her head as a blush suffused her cheeks. Her hands slid from his neck, rubbing over his chest to push a bit of space between them. "My father would kill anyone who dared defile his daughter." "Then should I bargain a price, lady, for I would have you more than this one night." "A titled lord or princely visage is the price that must be paid, sir knight. My father wants only the best for his only child." She glanced up at his snort. "You doubt me, sir?" "No doting daddy would allow his virginal daughter to roam the countryside this way. 'Tis an interesting tale you tell, little Sonya." "Tis the truth," she said softly. She knew he didn't believe her. With a quick twist of her body, she wriggled away from his arms, going back to the pond and throwing herself in, swimming quickly to the other side of the still pool. She didn't hear him follow her, only knew that he had when she felt his hand wrap around her ankle as she tried to wade to shore. Then he was on top of her in the shallow water, his cock nudging at the soft flesh between her thighs, making her gasp. "You've run and I've chased," he growled by her ear. "Now you may say that you fought to protect your modesty and yield to me as we both wish." He nuzzled her ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down her spine. "Come Sonya, yield to me so that I might show you pleasure of a kind you've never had before." "'Tis impossible. Please, my lord, let me go." She struggled half-heartedly against him, pushing her small fists against the heavy breadth of his chest. "I cannot." He gazed down at the lovely visage, breathing heavily of the sweetness of her scent, even muddled with the cold water of the pond. "I fear I am caught in the snare of your beauty, my lady. I shall never be freed of the memory of you. I must live this night with you to the fullest otherwise the regret I would feel come morning might slay me." "Fancy words you speak, sir knight. Fancy words that shall not sway me in the tiniest. I must return to my father in the exact way that I left his home. To do any other would mean my death." "Now I know you lie, girl. No father worthy of the name would slay his daughter for something that was other than her own fault." He traced little kisses down her cheeks and over her jawline, his cock rubbing roughly against her slender thigh. "I would make you my own girl." Anya groaned, his lips upon her neck sending a chill, drawing goose flesh over her skin. "No, 'tis impossible. I....I cannot." She was still in his arms though. Arms that were thick with hard muscles, strong and sure. They would hold her true and allow no harm to come to her, this she somehow knew for certain. A thrill shot through her, remembering the hand that had stroked her between her thighs earlier this day and the pleasure and excitement it had given. A pleasure she could feel now when all this man had done was to hold her close to his naked flesh. "We shouldn't," she gasped. "We should," he answered, catching her chin in one hand and holding it still. "We definitely should." He didn't allow her to answer, his lips capturing hers, his tongue pressing for entrance to the dark secrets of her mouth, longing for her taste. She moaned and then whimpered, she couldn't remember ever feeling this way, needing something she didn't know how to ask for. "Sir," she gasped when he lifted his head. "Please, we shouldn't do this." "Yes, my sweet princess, we should most definitely do this and more." He cupped her naked breast with one hard hand. He caressed her gently, sweetly, with the calluses that came from years of use with sword and rein tenderly abrading the hard tip of her breast. She gasped again, whimpering as her hands slid up his naked chest, tracing over scars left over from battles fought far away. Her fingers slid into the damp curls at the nape of his neck, twisting as she arched her back, thrusting the soft mound harder into his hand. "I think that you aren't as dead set against this as you sound, little one." He twisted her hard nipple, listening to the soft moans that spilled from her lips like sweet wine. With a harsh groan, he ducked his head, his mouth capturing her other nipple, pulling it into his mouth. He pleasured her with careful bites and languid licks, flicking his tongue over the turgid flesh. "Oh by the gods! What is this you do to me?" "Pleasures of the flesh, princess. With a body like this, I cannot understand how you remained pure this long. You were made to ride a cock. Made to ride my cock." He moved over her, taking her hand and wrapping it around the hot, thick flesh of his cock. With a growl, he shivered as he felt the softness of her palm holding him tightly as he taught her the rhythm and speed he wanted that gentle flesh to move. He dropped his head, pressing a kiss against her forehead. It had been months since he'd had his last female, not because he didn't have offers, he'd had more offers than he could come up with reasons to defer. But this sweet nymph was making him feel things he'd never thought to ever feel, things he wasn't sure he knew how to profess. He finally reached down, pulling her hand away, glancing up to see a look of what seemed like hurt in her eyes. "It was too good, beauty. I would have spilled into your hand if I hadn't stopped you." "Would that be bad?" A small smile touched her lips and he shook his head and laughed. "It would, sweetling. I want to be buried deep between your thighs when I loose my seed." He reached down, opening her thighs and pressing his thumb between her soft lower lips. Her clit rose like a tiny stem, seeming to vibrate against his flesh. She gasped. "What is this you do, sir? Is this some kind of magick?" She thrust her hips against his invading thumb, rubbing against his hard as it pushed lower, slipping between her lips and into her. She moaned, her hands digging into the skin of his back. Her eyes were tightly closed, concentrating upon the pleasure he was doling out with a generous hand. She could do little more than hold on to him and experience every little bit of ecstasy he was determined to give. She grasped his soft curls, digging into the thickness of his hair. She found the hard column of his throat, her thumb sliding over the thick muscle and then down to the heavy muscles of his shoulders. She held on tight there as his hands moved over her body. She couldn't stop her hips from thrusting up to him, the pleasure only growing with every touch of him. She cried out when it finally got to be too much. Her body tightened even more and then she felt the soft, slick slide of his tongue over her most intimate flesh. His name flew from her lips as her body seemed to explode and pleasure the likes she'd never known burst from that tiny spot between her thighs. It seemed to go on forever and was over way too soon. When she could finally force open her eyes, Ryder was staring down at her with a small smile upon his lips. "You're beautiful," he said, nuzzling against her and stealing tiny kisses. "I don't think I've ever seen anything as utterly amazing as the sight of pleasure upon your gorgeous features, Sonya Bitterroot." He smiled down at her and then she felt it, the heavy rod of his flesh, pressing against the veil of her innocence. "No, Ryder. You cannot! My father..." He smiled slowly. "I will worry about your father. For now, let us be like lovers. Allow me to kiss and caress your flesh. Do not fear him for I will protect you always, Sonya." Before she could utter another word, the tip of his cock had wedged between her lower lips. He moved his hips, soaking that spongey tip in the secretions that seemed to pour from between her silken thighs. He kissed her, his hips moving to send the hard shaft rubbing between her lips, his glans brushing over her clit with every sweet thrust. He growled her name, his mouth and teeth playing with the succulent flesh of her throat. Rainstone Ch. 02 "Ryder," she whispered hoarsely. "I feel strange." "Strange?" he whispered back, lifting his head so that his eyes might trace over the beautiful lines of her face. "Do you feel a strange wanting from here?" he asked, letting his fingers touching her lower stomach, just above the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. "No, 'tis not a want, it is a need that I feel. I need you. I will die if you don't..." She stared up into his face, her eyes hot flames. "If I don't what?" he panted hoarsely, praying wildly that she would not disappoint him. "F-F-Fuck me. Please Ryder," she begged. "I...I can't..." Her hips moved, pushing against his. She heard his moan and then felt the sudden shocking swoop of his mouth as his took hers again. He kissed her hard, his tongue drawing hers out to play. He sucked it into his mouth, drawing on the wet muscle. His hands slid down her back, moving over the softness of her bottom, his fingers slipping into the slit between her thighs. She was wetter than the water that still dripped from her skin, a creamy wetness that he used to coat his fingers even as he found her silken gates. "If I take you, I shall not be able to give you back," he groaned, his hand sliding over her thighs before lifting her and settling her into the softness of the river grass. "I shall take you with me on my quest, little Sonya. You shall be my pleasure in this cursed quest, the only pleasure I shall find." He lay on his side next to her, his hand cupped around the softness of her breast, his fingers plucking at her hardened nipple. With a growl, he took her small hand, flattening it against his chest. He dragged her palm down the hard planes of his chest, his breath hissing as he pushed it downward over the ridges of his stomach. When she found his cock, he curled her soft hand around him, showing her the movements he craved. His mouth moved over the upper curve of her breasts, lifting the mound of flesh so that he might more easily find her nipple. He suckled it in, hearing her cry of delight and feeling her arch against him. His tongue flattened against the hard bud, capturing it between his teeth and tongue, twisting it gently. He released her breast, his fingers taking his mouth's place. "Spread these for me," he growled, his hands slipping over her thighs. "Open and show me how much you need me." Anya gasped, she was lost and she knew it. She was going to let him take her, hell and damnation to the consequences. Nothing had ever felt this good before, never had she been shown such care, such loving. If her fate was to be punished for all time by her father, then this would be the last good thing she would ever ask for herself. Her thighs quivered for a single instant and then they slowly spread. She reached for his hand, slowly settling it upon her belly and then pushing it down until she could feel him cupping her soft curls. "I do want you, Ryder. If this be my last act upon this world then I would have it be this one with you." "You speak strangely, little Sonya. This is but the first of many nights for us, the first of many pleasures that I long to introduce you to. We shall burn up the sheets, little one and you shall have a need for me that shall rival mine for you." He split the soft lips that were held so innocently closed against him, feeling her wetness and the quiver of her flesh. He stroked her gently, feeling the jump of her body when he passed over the small bump of her clit. He heard her cry out and then felt the fresh heat of new wetness from her cunny. "You respond like a true wanton." She buried her face in his shoulder, the heat of a blush suffusing her skin. But he refused to let her hide from him, lifting her chin with the fingers of one hand while with the other he stroked more responses from her willing flesh. "You are mine, Sonya. Tell me." Anya stared up at him, her hips moving against his magical fingers. He could see the disbelief in her eyes, feel the desperation in the hands that grasped upon him with such strength. Her hips moved as if she couldn't stop, or wouldn't stop. She opened her mouth on a gasp and then a soft cry escaped. He felt her pleasure upon his fingers. Her face grew flushed and she tossed her head in the soft grasp. "By all that is holy," he hissed, pressing one long finger inside her. He could feel the muscles of her sheath flutter around his finger and seemed to draw him deeper inside. His thumb found the hard bump of her clit and he rubbed it gently, fucking her virginal sheath with one finger then two, stretching her just the tiniest bit so that his length might better fit without hurting her unduly. Anya's hands clung to him, her head thrown back against the sandy ground, her eyes unseeing as if gone blind with her pleasure. She tried to speak but no words escaped her lips. She arched her back and thrust her hips up to meet his fingers. He knew what she was trying to say, what she wanted to ask and he smiled. He would grant her desires for they were of the same bent. Before she could move, his hips jerked, his cock head catching in the small entry between her thighs. She had no chance to ready herself for he pushed inside of her with one swift move, burying half his hardness in the heat of that secret well and breaking her hymen quickly and cleanly. She cried out only once and he forced his body to remain still. She had told him she was a virgin and even though his finger had explored and felt the small flap of tissue, he was still shocked. But a thought blazed through his mind as he ordered his body to remain motionless. This woman was his. He was her first, he would be her last. She would travel with him and return with him as his victorious prize. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her for if he did, he would take her, rut upon her for his own pleasure, caring none for hers. Her hands clenched at his back, her nails digging into his flesh. Heat drew a new, rosy blush across her cheeks. "Ryder..." she sighed, her ankles locking at the small of his back, her hips trying to force him to move. He finally relented, holding his body still above hers. "You're fucking me, Sonya. By the Spirits, you feel so good." He held her close, his hands curving around her softness, enjoying the way she felt. Every burst of pleasure sent more heated warmth flooding from her, coating his cock. He took his time, starting a slow rhythm, each stroke pushing more of his cock inside of her until he was completely in. Ryder growled out her name, finally allowing his body to take the lead and feeling her match his fiery rhythm. "Oh fuck me you feel good." His hand moved over her flesh, twisting a hard nipple, smoothing down over her sleek curves, pressing into the soft hair of her pussy to find her clit once more. Ryder's strokes were deep and slow. He held her hips in his hands. Her lips slid over his shoulder, her tongue tasting his skin. Ryder's head turned and he found her lips with his, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He pulled back, his eyes opening to stare into her pretty face. "Come for me," he growled. He took her leg, hooking it over his shoulder, fucking her even deeper. * * * * Every stroke pushed her further; every touch had her begging for more. She held on to him, her body arching, her hands grasping. She cried out, feeling as if she was dying. It couldn't feel this good and not be bad. If that was one thing she learned at the hands of her father, good never lasted, especially not this good. Ryder felt her convulsions and cried out himself, finally letting go of the hold he had on himself. Five really hard strokes and he went over as well, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into her. He collapsed against her, his head resting against the thick fall of her hair. He felt her relax against him, her hands sliding off his back to rest at her sides. "Sonya?" he whispered, almost laughing when he lifted his head and saw her eyes closed, her body completely limp. He gave himself a few more precious moments to lay with her before forcing himself up. Bending, he lifted her unconscious body in his arms, taking the longer route around the pond to where he'd left his clothing. After laying her back down into the soft grass, he quickly dressed, seeing a set of clothing left off to the side. She'd been naked when he'd first spotted her and he strode over to the small pile of clothing, lifting the shirt in his hands. It was encrusted with blood, the back soaked in stripes that would have run the entire length of her body from waist to shoulders. A quick glance at her still sleeping form, his eyes roaming over the softness, the sleek perfection of the skin of her back, had him dropping the shirt back onto the small pile. Nothing else was visible in the clearing. Ryder smiled, going to his horse and picking up his cloak from off the back of his saddle. He took it over to Anya's still body, tucking her inside the soft, satiny folds, covering her from neck to toe easily. Holding her in his arms, he went to his horse, holding his reins in one hand, he stepped into the saddle. She fit against him, her head curving into his neck. His arms wrapped round her, holding her easily even as he spun the horse, sending him out and away from the pool and back toward his men. He may not have found the sword that he needed to take control of his father's army, but what he had found gave him as much if not more pleasure. * * * * Anya woke slowly, her eyes feeling gummy. She stretched, enjoying the way it felt to wake without whip marks causing her so much pain. Instead, she felt good, warm and comfortable and not in any hurry to wake and start her day. "Ah, she wakes. I'd thought to have to hold this day's travel for you to continue your rest but now that you're awake, we can pack up camp." Anya's eyes popped open and she sat up, staring around at the unfamiliar cloth walls. She gasped as she realized she was naked, reaching for the fur covering that had fallen to her waist. "W-what? W-w-where am I?" "Oh, little Sonya, I hadn't expected you to forget me so soon." Anya's head turned and she saw Ryder standing next to the bed she was laying upon. "H-how did I get here?" "I brought you." He sank down onto the bed next to her, his hand reaching out and cupping her cheek. He angled her head so that he might find her mouth, kissing her with a gentleness that nearly brought tears to her eyes. No one but Sonya had ever treated her as if she'd actually cared about her. "Why? My father is probably rabid wondering where I am." She reached up and touched Ryder's face. "You have to let me go back." "It's a little late for that." He cupped his hand over hers, nuzzling his face against the softness of her palm. "I've taken you and now you are mine." "Ryder..." His lush began to form a word , but he quieted her words with his lips, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, rubbing against her own. His hands smoothed over her the satiny skin of her naked back, moving down and tugging the fur away from her hands. Filling his palms with her breasts, he smirked when he heard her moan. "You want me," he whispered against her lips. "Admit it. Tell me you're mine." "Oh, Ryder," she began, her hand pressing against his wide chest, trying to put some space between them. " I can't..." "No. I don't want to hear 'can't.'" He kissed her again, the tips of his fingers finding her nipples, twisting them. She arched, trying to press more of her flesh into his hands. Her hands rose, her fingers spearing into his hair. "Tell me," he whispered, holding his mouth from hers. "Tell me you're mine." "I-I'm yours," she moaned, dragging his head back down so that she could find his lips. Ryder kissed her, giving her everything she wanted until she tried to pull him back down into the bed. He lifted his head. "You go straight to my head," he growled, pushing the tendrils of hair off her forehead. "We can't do this now, Sonya. My men are ready to head out." His fingers traced the soft lines of her face and he groaned as she turned her head, her teeth nipping at his fingers. "Little minx." He stood, reaching out and dragging her off the bed to dump her onto the floor. "Come, we must find you clothing. I think we have something that will work." He laughed as she screeched, her arms coming up to cover herself as much as was possible. My father will... You have to take me back. My...My father will send out troops looking for me." "No, we've got nothing to discuss. You've admitted you're mine and by your own words, you are." He went to the flap in the tent and reached outside; taking the clothing he was handed. "Come on now, Sonya. Get dressed." She took the clothes he handed her and turned her back. A white tunic she pulled quickly over her head, sighing as the material fell to her upper thighs. She pulled on the breeches as well, smiling as Ryder handed her a belt and then helped her put a hole in it that would make it fit snuggly around her waist. A pair of boy's boots were handed to her next and Ryder stood back, smiling at the picture she made in the boy's clothing. "You're still too exquisite by half, Sonya. I don't understand how you've managed to keep your virginity for so many years." He caressed her cheek before bending and kissing her again. "But I will treasure it. Can you ride?" "Yes." She stood, taking his arm that he offered and smiling when his other hand held on to hers. He went to the tent flap and pulled it back, letting Anya see the camp clearly for the first time. It was a small caravan, his tent the last to be taken down and packed back up. "What is this about?" she asked, searching the area for anything that would tell her where she was. "I am on a quest, Lady Sonya." He walked her to where the horses were being held, going to an older mare who stood docilely. "Sonya, this is Mirabelle. She will be your mount. She's a good horse and will serve you well." Sonya stared at the old mare, reaching out and taking her reins before holding her hand out and caressing her soft nose. "My father..." she tried again. "No, Sonya." He reached out and took her slender waist between his two large hands, lifting her easily and placing her on the back of the horse like she was still dangling on her father's knees. "You'll ride with me." He handed her a piece of fruit and a small loaf of bread and a hunk of dark yellow cheese. A small skin of water was hooked onto her saddle. Then he easily vaulted onto his horse, a spirited gray that instantly reared, trying to argue with him over who was boss. He mastered the beast and smiled over at her before nodding at the men who were already mounted. A handful of men stayed behind, packing up his tent and loading it onto a baggage wagon. Then she was surrounded by guard and followed along behind as quickly as his men could get them moving. Anya enjoyed the ride, her spirit's reviving as fresh air and the lack of pain made her almost lightheaded. Sh She ate the meal he'd provided, washing down the last of the bread with a swallow of cool water. The men around her were talking and laughing, treating Ryder as if he were nothing more than one of them. "Sonya, these men have been with me since I was small. The one with the big ears is Frederick. Next to him are Mal and Spencer. The one with the face of an angel is Raine. Those two," he said, nodding at the two men who rode behind them. "They're Hal and Harold, brothers." Anya nodded, laughing at the brothers who almost knocked each other off their horses as they tried to reach her hands. Raine stared at her for a moment then glanced at Ryder. "Sonya?" "Yes, Sonya Bitterroot. Why?" Anya saw the look on Raine's face and knew he recognized her. There was no way she could have kept her identity secret for long. Her father expected her to be front and center at every function and for every meal, no matter how badly he'd beaten her. Raine had to have been there at one of them. She watched as his lips parted and she almost cringed. Yes, when Ryder knew who she was, he would have to take her back. But when her father saw her, unhurt, nothing on her back from the last beating he'd given her, his rage would be stupendous . She would be beaten to within an inch of her life. She knew the smile was gone and that Ryder was staring at her strangely. When Raine didn't speak immediately, she felt a smidgeon of hope. Kicking the little mare, she moved to ride in front of Ryder, looking at him from over her shoulder and smiling fetchingly. "Ride with me?" Ryder nodded, smiling smugly at his men. He came up beside her, reaching out with one hand to wrap around her waist and haul her back onto his lap. "This works better." Sonya laughed, her hands coming up to touch his face. "Oh yes, it does." She kissed him, smiling when he pulled her even closer. She bit his lower lip than soothed it with tender kisses. She smiled when she heard him growl and pulled her even closer. "You go to my head like soki, woman. We're going to end up flat on our backs when Cassias realizes that I'm not paying attention to him. He let out a big sigh. "You're dangerous." "Yes, it must be my fault. I'm the one that hopped over here to sit on your lumpy lap." She let out a sigh of her own. "Where are we going?" We are heading to the castle of the First Kingdom. We are looking for the sword of Galinar. That along with the Rainstone will prove my birthright and then I shall become king of my father's land." "The sword of what?" Anya asked, confused. "Galinar. It is the sword that belonged to my father and to his father before that. To prove that I am the son of Galinar, I must have the sword." He settled her more securely in his lap and kicked his horse into a trot. He knew that Mirabelle would stay with the others. She didn't much care for his stallion. Rainstone Ch. 03 Anya stared at the handsome man that held her so tenderly, listening as he explained the complicated process of heredity in his family's home. She could feel Raine's eyes still upon her and knew he would be a cause of problems in the future, but for now, she concentrated upon Ryder. "So every king must have this sword and then hide it in the last years of his life for his heir to find to prove his birthright?" "Yes," Ryder said, dipping his head to taste of her lips once more. "You go to my head little Sonya, like the honeyed mead made by the best mead maker of my kingdom. His hand traced her face, cupping her chin to hold her still so that he might memorize her countenance. "Your beauty should be sung about by the bards, little Sonya. Tales should have spread far and wide. How could you have stayed virginal with such beauty? Are there no men where you live?" "My father kept the bards from touting my beauty, Ryder. He held me close these past years, to tend his home and to keep serf and peasant in line. I collected his taxes and counted his gold." "He must have feared you to be swept away," Ryder said then chuckled. "Such as what I am doing now." He teased her lips, flicking his tongue at the corner of her mouth until she pushed against his chest, trying to force herself higher. "Do you wish me to take you back?" Anya's eyes turned dark as she thought of all that would be changed in her father's land. The castle would fall to disrepair, her father would never notice a leaky roof or maggoty bread as long as the mead was replenished and the wenches were at hand. He might not even notice her gone until he wanted to blame her for some mishap. Sonya was the only one that would be hurt by her loss. She would be the one that would fear for her, who would take punishment for her absence If there was some way to bring Sonya along, she would leave and never look back. Ryder saw the change in her eyes and the seriousness of her mien. "Sweet Sonya, what fears do you hide in this lovely head? Tell me that I might resolve them for you. I would that there never have cause for these lips to frown and that you would smile always when you are with me." "I wish that such were possible, Ryder. And if it were only my own pain and punishment that I feared I would have you kick this beast into a gallop and chase the wind with you. But, alas, it isn't just me that will be hurt with my disappearance. My maid..." she hesitated a moment before continuing. "My maid will be blamed for my missing and she will be punished severely when my father realizes I am gone." "Then allow me to send my man back to collect her and she will come with us as we chase that wind, Sonya." He wrapped his arms around her, holding her even closer even as the horse kept up its steady gait. "There is room and one more little girl will not hold us back on our mission. Danforth Keep is still days away." "Danforth Keep?" Anya spoke the words with the horror of the Keep's reputation firmly in mind. It was said that devils and demons inhabited the Keep and that anyone who stepped into the bailey of the place was never seen from again. "You can't mean to go there." "It is where my sword lies, little Sonya. Galinar lies in the highest of towers, behind the fiercest of guards. Once I hold it in my hands then I shall be shown the way to the Rainstone. It is a gem of power and beauty that fits in Galinar's hasp. I retrieve both and I may take my father's place as king. It is my duty, my obligation and my honor, Sonya. I have no choice but to go there." Anya couldn't help but be impressed by the bravery in his words. But she was also concerned by the nonchalance of his attitude. "Have you not heard of the stories of Danforth Keep, Ryder? No one who goes into the place is seen again. It is possessed by evil." She slapped at his chest when he had the nerve to laugh at her warning. "Should I say goodbye to you now? Should I stand bravely and watch as you foolishly walk into that Keep never to be heard from again? You expect me to share blankets with you but not to care when you set yourself a fool's mission?" "Whoa, Sonya, slow down just a bit. Every member of my family has gone into the Keep; there is nothing evil or dangerous about the place. I am risking nothing by going in to retrieve Galinar and the Rainstone. It is my duty and the honor of my family that is at stake, not my life." He tugged at the glove he wore on his hand, wanting to feel her skin against his. He tucked the heavy leather garment into his belt then tenderly touched her face, wishing his hands were not hardened and scared by battle and the leather of reins in his hands. "I would never risk my life, Sonya, not when I've just found a reason to live." His eyes were bright, his touch almost too gentle. She'd never had a man treat her with the respect, care and loving he had shown her. She turned her head, pressing her lips against his palm, not minding the hardened skin or the calluses upon it. "Then don't go into that Keep, please, milord. It is dangerous." He sighed. "I can't make that promise, Sonya. The future of my kingdom, of my line is in that Keep and I must retrieve it or the lands pass to the next in line. He is a cousin with little sense and even less intelligence. He would take the lands and the riches of my family and squander them on selfish acts, forcing the farmers to lose their lands and the castle serfs to find other work. I cannot allow that if I am to honor my father's name." "But..." she stopped when his lips covered hers, lifting his head only when he heard the quiet moan that she gave. "I must, Sonya. I'll be fine." He dipped his head again, only realizing that his horse had quit moving when one of his men tapped him on the shoulder. "Are we taking a break, Sire? And so soon after beginning the day's trek?" Ryder narrowed his eyes at Harold. "Perhaps I should send you back to guard the baggage wagon?" He laughed with the rest of his men as Harold reddened. He kicked his horse to a walk and set Anya back into Mirabelle's saddle. "You go to my head, milady. You're less dangerous there." Anya smiled even as her cheeks grew as red as Harold's. "That is my fault?" He growled, gritting his teeth when the urge to draw her close again was almost irresistible. "You make me want to call a halt to the day's travel, Sonya." He leaned closer. "I would have our tent be raised so that we might take our ease upon soft skin. I want to feel your thighs against my ears as I make you scream on my tongue." "Ryder," she whispered, her hands coming up to cover her cheeks. She felt the need in the throbbing of her pussy and the wetness that started to trickle to her thighs. Her voice cracked and he chuckled though the look in his eyes was hot as he gazed at her. "Yes, Lady Sonya?" he said loud enough for his men to hear. "You embarrass me, Sire." "But do I make your body burn and yearn for my touch?" Sonya was about to answer when an arrow flew past her ear. It swished past Ryder, embedding itself in the trunk of the tree they were passing. Ryder drew his sword, circling Anya and her horse while he called orders to his men. "Stay beside me, Sonya." Ryder's soldiers shot past them, thundering toward where the arrow had come from. It was a leafy glen and the sound of more horses was loud in the air. The jangle of bridles and the thudding of horse hooves shook the ground and Anya could see Ryder's eyes as he watched after his men. He longed to be with them, catching the ref use that shot at them. There was the sound of a short battle and Ryder took Anya closer to the edge of the trees, ready for her sake to flee or fight, whichever the situation deemed necessary. But his men returned quickly with a strange being tied between two of their saddle horns. "What is this?" Ryder asked, sliding off his destrier to move closer to the thing. It was ugly and the smell was almost more than Ryder could bear. "What kind of foul creature are you?" The beast grunted, its piggish nose in the air. It was black as tar, what hair that sat upon its head was the consistency of rumpled hay. Its face was wide and flat, its mouth full of sharpened teeth, two fang-like teeth cut into its lower jaw from the upper. Sonya, who'd slid from her horse when she'd caught a glimpse of the beast that had been captured, came to Ryder's side. "It is one of Magnus's beasts." She saw the look in Ryder's face, one of confusion that only grew as he turned back to look at the thing. "He was defeated but bands of his beasts still roam the seven kingdoms, determined that somehow Magnus will be reborn and his reign of terror will fill the kingdoms once more. They kill, rape and plunder whenever they can, certain that their loyalty will be repaid when the dark lord is reborn once more." "And do you believe this tale to be true?" She smiled at Ryder's softly spoken question. "No, I don't believe that Magnus will be 'born again.' He had his life and he squandered it with whoring and battles, by trying to take more than was owed and thinking that he deserved it. Magnus's defeat by Prince Balor and Princess Luria was the end of him and of his terror." "You sound as if you know the royal couple," Ryder said, tucking her under his arm as he thought of what to do with the beast. Captivity was out. They had no time to be guarding such a foul and loathsome thing. But he didn't want her to think him cruel or uncaring by slitting the beast's throat while Sonya watched. "I was at their wedding, Ryder. It was a beautiful affair and the couple seemed so much in love." She sighed, remembering the sight. It had been a festive and glorious event, one she'd even managed to enjoy despite her father and his beatings. He'd been on his best behavior in front of the gathered royals and she'd hoped that perhaps a marriage contract would have been forthcoming. But if it had been, she'd never been informed. "I did not see you there," he said slowly, almost as if he didn't believe she'd been of the right lineage to have been invited to the wedding of royals. "I did not see you either," she said, giving back what she could of his disbelieving attitude. "What shall we do with this thing, Prince Ryder?" Hal called, interrupting their battle of wills. "It's already tried to take a chunk out of Mal." Ryder glanced only once at Anya. "Put it down, humanely. A quick death is preferred to a life in chains." He took Anya's arm, taking her back to Mirabelle. "'Tis better you not watch, love. It is not a pleasant sight for someone of a delicate nature." Anya wanted to laugh. Her father had done as he wanted despite her "delicate nature". She'd witnessed men be beheaded for the crime of not having the proper gold for taxes. She'd seen one tied to a chair that was bolted to the end of a long plank. That plank was raised and lowered into the moat, a foul place full of snakes and strange wriggling creatures that feasted upon the poor man's flesh. She'd had to listen and watch as innocent girl after innocent girl were forced onto her father's cock, screaming and crying, forced to rut upon his flesh as he'd sat upon his thrown, his crown askew upon his head. She'd hated when he'd brought back a new virgin, tricking her into coming with him by promising her a life of ease and riches as his wife. They arrived full of hope and a kind of naïve innocence that always had Anya wanting to shake them until they realized that nothing was free. Every joy in life had to be paid for with blood and pain. They'd learned at the hands of her father and his guard. Afterwards, sometimes all that was left of the girls was a scarred shell—the horror that had been forced upon them taking their minds. "Thank you, Ryder," Anya said, bobbing a small curtsey as he led her back to Mirabelle. He lifted her easily, but his hands slowed, pulling her closer instead of lifting her to the horse. "I feel there are secrets inside this beautiful head, Sonya. I would have you trust me with them. You know I would do nothing to hurt you." Anya smiled even though she felt a stab of pain hearing his voice calling her Sonya. "Perhaps someday, Sire." He held her still, kissing her lips, his touch intimately brazen. When he lifted his head, he smiled down at her flushed features. "It will be a long day," he said with a heavy sigh that made her smile. By the promise in his eyes, she could tell it would be a pleasurable night. "Raine?" he called to his man. "Go back to the pond where I took my ease last eve and fetch Sonya's maid." Raine nodded, giving Ryder a small two finger salute as he wheeled his mount to do his prince's wishes. * * * * "Where's Anya!?" King Philonius roared, kicking at the slovenly guards that did little more than shrug at his demands and return to their drinking and wenching. "Find her!" He kicked at the guards nearest to him, watching as they rose and left the throne room. "After the beating I gave her last night, she should still be confined to her bed." He knew Anya wasn't there, he'd already been there himself, seeing the blood soaked sheet on the empty bed. A sharp pain struck him hard and he wondered if he'd finally done it. Had he finally killed her with his heavy hand on the whip? For just a second, he saw the woman he'd married, his wife, Constance. She was Anya's mother and the only woman he'd truly ever loved more than he loved himself. She'd died in childbirth with Anya so there was no way this visage in front of him was his wife. "No," he growled, his ale soaked tongue mumbling the words. "No, you're dead. You left me." "And you killed our daughter," the vision said, her finger pointing at him in accusation. "You killed my little girl with your rage and your lust of the drink. How could you?" Philonius growled his displeasure at this apparition of his wife and the sound of her voice. "You left her to my care so what does that say for you?" He spun, tripping and slamming down upon his thrown, righting his crown upon his temple. The dratted thing never stayed in place anyway. "If you hadn't left me...I never would have become a drunk. This is your fault!" Sonya hurried into the throne room, knowing it was time to pay for her deception. Anya had never returned the night before from her trip to the pond and Sonya, exhausted, had fallen into a deep sleep, never waking until the first crow of the cock in the yard. She watched the king now as he seemed to be in heavy conversation with one of the candle stands next to his throne. She wanted to determine his mindset before she told him of Anya's disappearance. Her brown locks were pulled back, pinned in an unflattering style that made her face look squished. Her eyes were hazel, more green then brown but unusual enough to be commented about. She was slender but had wide hips and generous breasts. She had the body of 'a good breeder' her mother had always said. It was just too bad that Sonya didn't want to settle down and marry the candle-maker's son, a nice enough lad, she supposed. But Sonya had always wished for adventure. She'd wanted to find some fine knight who would carry her off. A knight with looks so handsome and pure, he would be a delight to her eyes and to her senses. He would love her and make love to her, sweeping her away to his castle in some foreign land where she'd never have to see King Philonius again. The king sat upon his throne, staring at his wife. "Don't come in here and think you can tell me everything I did wrong. You died. You left her with me. You knew I couldn't raise a child on my own." "I know you didn't raise her at all. She's taken care of you since she could walk. And were you ever once good to her, did you ever once say thank-you?" "Me! Say thank-you to her!" His voice raised on the last word and all in the throne room stared at the king suspiciously. "She should be down on her knees thanking me for not using her like all women should be used! Bitch! How dare you come hear and take me to task!" Sonya took one look into the king's bleary eyes and knew he'd gone mad. She felt a tremor of fear. How could she tell this man that his daughter was missing? She spun around and left the room before the king had a chance to see her. She quickly went up to her room and packed her meager belongings into a pack. Sneaking into the kitchen, she crept over to the larder and stole a half-wheel of cheese, some crusty loaves and a small jug of mead. She packed that away as well and snuck out the castle doors, not feeling safe until she passed through the town gates. The trip to the pond was one that Sonya knew well. It was a favored place by Anya and one that had always been safe and serene. She entered the tiny clearing and saw Anya's clothes left abandoned upon the shoreline of the pond. Running to them, she carefully inspected the bloody clothes, noting that the material had not been ripped from Anya's body. Her eyes filled with tears and she sank down next to the clothing, letting her pack fall from her shoulders to the ground next to her. "Little miss, why the tears?" she heard a strange voice say. Sonya looked up, her eyes growing wide as she saw the little man standing not two feet from her. "Who are you?" she cried, grabbing her pack to hold in front of her. "Never fear, never fear, Switch means no harm. But what ails you lady from your beauty and charm?" "Switch? What switch?" Sonya asked, confusion vying with the tears she was shedding. "I am Switch," the little man said. He bowed low, his braided blonde locks brushing the soft blades of grass at his feet. "Might I grant you a wish?" "Have you been here long, Switch?" Sonja asked, pushing her fear of the strange small creature aside. "I arrived last night as the moon rose full over this precious pond. I saw a fine lady, bloodied and beaten is true, but fine and sweet as freshly collected honey." "You saw Anya?" Sonya asked, excited now. "Where is she?" "A prince of a different realm has stolen her away. He is upon a quest and she is his mate. I healed her wounds, a gift to her for she had grievous pain. Now what might I do for you?" He wrung his hands as the most worried of people might and then stepped just a bit closer. "Sonya, dear one, I can give you the man and help you find your mistress. You but give me a gift and it will be yours." "A...a gift? What kind of gift?" Her voice was soft, her manner as bemused by his words as by his sudden appearance. "What could I have that you would want?" Switch took two more steps closer to her, his hand coming out toward her hair, stepping back when she jerked away, though he kept the ribbon she'd tied to her hair that morning. "I won't hurt you, mistress," he said, his lips curving into a grin. "How do I know that you weren't the one to take Anya?" Sonya asked, suddenly a bit leery of the small man. Oh and what would I do with her ladyship? Stuff her in my pocket? Let me see," he reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a pike that was longer than he was tall. He then pulled out a roasted chicken, mumbling something about dinner; finally, he pulled out a full goblet of mead, not spilling a drop. Sonya's eyes grew wider and wider as she watched each item appear until he pulled his pocket inside out and it was back to a normal-size piece of material. "H-How..." "'Tis magic my dear, the same that I used for your mistress. The same that I am willing to use for you. Now, let me see, a knightly man to whisk you away, was that not your wish?" "But Anya..." Sonya began, only to drop quiet when Switch waved his hands. "Yes, yes, I know." The interruption was kindly rebuked and Sonya stared at the little man as he quickly stuffed his possessions back into his pocket. "I know of just the man," he said with a grin. He winked cheekily at her and then spun quicker than she could see. Rainstone Ch. 03 Pop! He was gone. "Switch?" When his head appeared it was as if he'd moved the fabric of the world like a drape. "Yes?" Sonya squeaked in surprise. "W-where is the man?" Switch laughed. "You young ones, never have any patience. Sometimes good things have to be waited for, Sonya Bitterroot. He'll be here. You wait and see." Then he pulled back and was gone once more. Sonya sat upon the grassy bank of the pond. She pulled the small jug of mead that she'd taken and pulled the cork, allowing herself a tiny sip. She had no knowledge when she would again have mead and she wanted to savor the honeyed taste. It was just a few moments later when she felt a distinct thudding under her body and Her heart raced and her mouth grew dry. "S-sir?" Raine stepped down from his saddle, throwing the reins over the same branch that Ryder had last eve though he had no knowledge of his Prince's deeds. "My lady, you're too beautiful to be a lady's maid. You cannot be the one I was sent to fetch." He lifted her hand to his lips, his beautiful eyes never leaving hers. Her heart fluttered and for a moment she couldn't focus upon what he'd said. "My lady! You've come to take me to her?" He held her hand to his breast, letting her feel the pounding beat of his heart. "'Tis my truest wish that someday you speak of coming to me with the same sense of excitement. My name is Raine, my lady, and I am your most humble of servants." Sonya watched as he easily lifted her bundle, tying it to the back of his saddle. "Will you ride with me?" he asked, holding his hand out to her. "Y-yes," she said, taking the hand he offered and feeling his fall to her waist to lift her as easily as her bundle to his saddle. He settled in behind her, his arms coming around her, holding her close to his chest. "Come, if we ride hard we should be at the encampment before night falls." Sonya nodded, gazing over her shoulder at him as if she couldn't believe he was real. There was a movement behind him and she saw Switch's smug smile, then they galloped through the brush and he was gone.