Sinister Intentions

Yavanna rested her head against the back of the carriage and looked boredly out the window at the trees gripped with darkness. The mist that pooled from behind them and onto the road caused a chill in her that reminded her too much of the previous night.

That creature… The king obviously had a theory, and she desperately wished to know. Maybe he would have answers and know why she was so tormented.

When they'd spoken it had felt almost as though he didn't find her revolting. It was oddly comforting to know that they could have a conversation between themselves without such disgust and resentment.

As she began to yet again replay the strange workings of the stone circle, and the fact the king believed she had magic, in her mind, her eyes closed and she dozed off.

She was woken by a hand clasping over her mouth. She jumped awake and shrieked from the sudden attack. With wide eyes she saw that she was hidden in the dark. The hand was still clamped tightly over her lips and she soon discovered that her wrists were bound by another strong hand behind her back.

She whimpered as the horrifying dream of the attacker in the library resurfaced and she breathed in a tremulous breath through her nose. The cut that had somehow been left confused her beyond repair, and yet she distinctly remembered dreaming it.

She squirmed in the person's grasp when she felt their hold loosen slightly. Her stomach churned when she felt him speak next to her ear, "Shh, shh, shh…" She gasped, disturbed, at the feel of her dress being pushed back from her neck. "Mm… and you smell good too." His words were followed by him running his nose along her skin and inhaling deeply.

She whimpered and fought harder to be free of his revolting grasp.

"Ah-ah. Stay still. I only want a taste." He whispered and she stilled before her fighting instincts kicked in. She screamed behind his hand and that's when she finally felt that her veil was gone. She didn't have time to focus on that because the man punched her across the jaw.

She whimpered and landed on her hands, the heels of her hand digging into a cold and wet grimy substance. "Help!" She screamed, her voice tearing from her throat, "Help me-" She was cut off by a harsh pull of her hair. She grimaced and reached to grab the roots of her delicate hair in hopes that she could relieve the pain.

He leaned down again, his grip on her hair tightening as he wrapped it around his fist. Whispering in her ear again, he said, "Now listen here, witch. All I want is a drop of your blood, now is that so hard?"

'Yes!' She screamed in her head. Her face contorted in a grimace and she released a pained whine when he yanked her backwards. She fell to the cold, wet ground with the sound of her cheekbone connecting with the stone.

She whimpered at the pain throbbing from both her jaw and cheekbone; both combined to create a wall of pain on one side of face. She could feel both of them swelling up on her.

He moved to stand in front of her and she closed her eyes, sensing that this was her end. He wanted her dead. Grabbing her throat, he pinned her up against the stone wall. She choked and clawed at his hand. She felt his nails dig into her skin, deep enough to sting. Her face reddened as her circulation was continuously restricted.

She made pathetic gagging sounds as her consciousness slowly began to fade. The only thought in her mind when the darkness overtook her was that she still needed to ask the king about learning Noth.

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Amiry dismounted his horse he was met by Tobias, his regent, and directed to his study where numerous letters and unopened envelopes awaited him.

He nodded, not revealing his tiredness as he sat and quickly began working. His reason for wanting to return earlier than usual was that he wanted more than ever to get his Mirella back; her smile and glinting eyes, her witty words and contagious humour.

His wife truly only became more of a disappointment when he compared her to his true betrothed. He had received an update from one of his spies that she had been moved into the palace, but was currently placed under house arrest in her room.

He sighed as frustration mixed with desperation overwhelmed him. He rested his head in his hand for a few moments so as to regain control of himself.

Upon opening his eyes he sniffed the air sharply. Blood, her blood. He stood and vanished. He appeared in the old, dark, dank dungeons that had been abandoned due to structural risks. The scent of mildew and rat feces assaulted his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

His attention was immediately gathered when he heard sounds of a struggle and the scent of her blood became stronger. It caused a burning need within him, a need to know why her blood had been spilt, along with if it tasted as delicious as it smelt.

All at once, he heard the struggles stop. He stormed to where the sounds had been coming from, an unknown fear enveloping him, and saw his steward and brother, Velio, grasping his wife's throat and pinning her small body to the wall.

"Velio! Let her go." He commanded as he stared at his brother's back. His hand had still not released her neck and the scent of her sweet, metallic blood hung heavy in the air. But he knew she would die if her oxygen was cut off for much longer.

Velio was silent. Amory's heart pounded from the pressing need of getting his brother's hand from her frail neck.

"I don't understand how you've had the strength to stay away from her, brother." Amory's eyes snapped to his brother's bowed neck, his thin body twitching. "Her blood smells so delicious even while still coursing beneath her skin."

He inhaled deeply as if to prove his point and let out a satisfied sound, "So good."

Amory's face twisted in disgust and he snapped. Rushing forward at a speed his brother unfortunately knew well, he attempted to grab the collar of his coat, but his brother was cursed with the same abilities and vanished.

Amory growled in anger as he waited for another attack, but none came. The dungeon remained silent, the only sound was that of dripping water and scurrying rats. He looked down when the sound of wheezing joined the discordant ambiance and the constriction in his chest released.