Leah stood at the gates of Avalon. For a magical portal, the actual gate was very plain in appearance; two trees intertwined around one another to form an arch. This was always the hardest part for her, taking the first step. On one hand, she thought to herself that she could run away! Move to another section of the globe and never look back at her old life at the court, though, she was soon reminding herself that if Deploma Dondarion wants someone found - they are found. Running would be futile and she could bet the punishment for doing so would be nightmarish. She dared not test the king's temper. Taking a wavering step through the gates, she held her breath.
The second that she walked between realms; the cold hit her face like a smack from an angry mother. A shiver ran down her spine as she shook, though not from the cold. Just as she was about to calm herself and make her way towards the palace, a loud roar erupted from the trees causing her to dart her attention to where a large man had emerged from the bushes like an animal. He charged for her, spear in hand. The it clicked – she was still glamoured. Leah held up her hands in defence and took a couple steps back from the charging man. "It's me, Alistair! It's Leana!" She screamed squeezing her eyes shut as the man grinded to a messy halt before her. Removing his helmet to reveal his face, he dropped to his knees and began to beg.
"My lady!" The poor boy gushed. "I'm so sorry!" Leana retrieved a small bottle of golden liquid from her pocket and supped up, using the last little bit of glamour that she had to transform back into her genuine self. Her eyes flooding a deep purple and her hair following suit. Large wings poked out from under her shirt which she asked a nervous Alistair to cut free from the restraint of the fabric. Following his better's orders, he took his dagger and poked two small holes in the back of her shirt and ducked to avoid the reveal of the beautiful things. Leana's wings were a wonderful display! Her father's were rather plain so she must have gotten their size and grandeur from her mother. They were even large enough to lift her from the ground though she rarely flew. It was more of a novelty for a child than a practical use ; despite this, she knew that she was lucky and did not diminish her unique ability for a second. She waved the poor man off and asked him to accompany her to the palace.
Her and Alistair went way back to her training days to become the Black Knight back in Glenara. The nervous man stood and began to escort her through the pathed forest nervously. Looking up at Alistair she regarded him thoughtfully. "Alistair was always a victim of abuse because of his towering height. His father was a giant, you see, and due to this, he reached an abnormal height of around seven foot. Ignoring his one flaw, Alistair was a stunning man. Gorgeous blonde hair and mesmerising blue eyes – most likely from his faerie mother. Being only half fey, Alistair's wings weren't much to be desired. They were weak and without much colour; from this, coupled with his increased weight from his father's side, meant that Alistair would never fly. Due to his 'ghastly' appearance, as the captain of the Unseelie guard would put it, poor Alistair was always saddled with the most menial jobs; such as guarding the gate – as if anyone ever came through it other than Leana.
"What's happened since I left?" She asked coldly. She could already assume that it was something bad. Nothing good ever came from this place. Alistair was silent. "What did he do, Alistair!" She commanded with her serious tone this time. She was fine with the burden of the king being saddled on her but not others. She hated when she couldn't take the blunt of his blows.
"He killed a… a working girl," A prostitute. Leana stopped and exhaled sharply, placing her hand over her heavy heart. Stupid, Stupid woman! She cursed. Everyone in the fucking realm knew of the king's violence and aggression when it came to sexual encounters; hell, Leana was a living reminder. Why would she even take on a job like that? Most women would run in fear. Perhaps she was desperate? Either way she was dead.
"How," Leana asked bluntly as she began to walk again. She could feel Alistair's heavy eyes on her but she didn't care, she just wanted to know.
"Tore her to pieces. Annette found the body," Her heart stopped. "There was nothing left of her back, Lea… nothing," Alistair was tearing up in memory of the poor woman who had met such a gruesome end. "The blood… there was so much blood," The thought made the poor man gag. Blood. That was the other smell though it was much less common in the human realm than rose scented perfume or the flowers themselves. Leana asked calmly if the woman had any children. "I wouldn't know," He told her. She wasn't quite sure why she asked him, why would he know the living status of a random woman from the tavern?
"Visit her brothel. If she did, bring them to me," Alistair bowed and promised before stiffening again as they reached the treeline of the palace gardens.
"There's something else," Nothing more! Her weakened, frightened heart couldn't take anything more. "He executed a child," A child? How could he! His was a new low for him. There truly was no saving him. For years, Leana had held a little hope in her that perhaps there was some of that little boy that she knew and loved inside him. Well, if there was, there isn't any longer. "Pixie child… caught stealing some bread," Leana's head filled with anger.
"He killed a child… over a fucking loaf of bread," She spat not looking at anything in particular. They walked the rest of the way in silence until they reached the large stone steps of the palace. Leana turned to Alistair trying to mask her sorrow and mourning as best she could. "I'll take it from here, Alistair," He nodded respectfully but didn't move to leave when she turned and began her ascent into hell – ironic, normally you would descend.
"Leana!" Alistair called causing her to turn to face him. She had never seen the shy boy with such confidence in his eyes. "The people love you, Leana. They will stand by you," She knew what he was insinuating. It had been rumoured for a while that Leana Payne would be the one to kill the Mad King but she knew that it was just not possible. He was Ariana's son and her ex-lover! She could never bring herself to do such a thing. Besides, the guards of the palace were loyal sadists for the most part; she wouldn't get far.
Nodding was all that she could think of doing before turning and continuing to walk up the steps. When she reached the doors, two guards pulled them open to reveal her to the entire room. There was some sort of event going on- as usual. In his early adulthood, the king had become quite the party animal though he detested the things when they were young. She didn't dwell on this fact much like she didn't the rest of the minor personality changes. He was a different man now than he was when he was sixteen. All eyes in the room were on her though hers met only one pair. His.
There he was. In all his majesty. Deploma Dondarion. One could easily mistake this man for a refined, sexy gentleman. He looked like something out of a human erotica novel. The rich, chiselled businessman who seduces his secretary or the bad boy who lives next door to the geeky protagonist that steals her bra off the washing line, the event of which kickstarts the story. His face was perfect in every way; clean shaven with a chiselled
roman nose. His face showed no signs of age – which would have been strange anyway considering he was only twenty years old, though he was living proof that the phrase 'the uglier the person, the uglier their face' was complete and utter bullshit. His legs were wrapped tightly in his black leather pants which heavily accentuated his package though Leana was sure that was the point. His chest was not very well covered – only with a simple loose cotton shirt that was untied at the top and creased all over with two 'button holes' sewn into the back for his wings to protrude through. His wings were beautiful! A pleasant mix between red and black that delicately licked the air around them. When Deploma was a child, Leana had seen him fly many times though, in recent years she had not. It occurred to her if he still could, some lose that ability when they grow up but then again, the king had no cause to fly so she didn't think much of it. His casual attire at these kinds
of events just highlighted his arrogance. He didn't need to dress well, he was a god on a pedestal regardless. His hair, much like her fathers, was blood red (rather symbolic in a funny way) along with his eyes. When she looked into her father's painted eyes on the canvas in the hallways, she saw a burning fire of passion and energy; when she looked into Deploma Dondarion's eyes, she saw hell itself. Brimstone and lava lakes and all. The devil wasn't a little red man with a tail and a pitchfork, he was a handsome king with an attitude problem and a glass of heavy brandy. Didn't the bible always say that the devil was the personification of temptation? Well, in the eyes of women, he sure was a devilish temptation. And true to the bible, if you danced with this devil you paid the price, as one unfortunate woman found out. She approached the throne slowly, as if wishing that some divine being would come down and smite her from the realm there and then, but they didn't and she faced him for the first time in months. Dropping to her knees before him, she could finally express the fear and terror that flooded her system as no one could see her face. Her entire body shook as she heard the king stand from his throne and approach her. He towered above her, a view she knew all too well, and held out his hand. She knew that she had to take it but she would have much rather cut it off. Placing her delicate hand in his, he raised her from the floor and thrusted her arm into the air.
"Your knight has returned!" He announced. The room erupted into cheers and cries of appreciation. The scene seemed so surreal to her after spending so much time in the human realm, the most enthusiasm she had seen was when someone dropped a plate in the café at the university and everyone cheered. Humans were a strange breed. Though, she would have much preferred to be in a human café right now. If she was honest, she would rather be lifeless at the bottom of a lake right now than here with her hand in his. Her fears were once again reviewed when he closed the space between them and Leana's heart jumped into her throat, she whimpered a little but kept the noise down. She could feel his face closing in on her as the stray hairs from his mane of fiery red locks tickled her neck. Even such a small sensation made her feel faint. "It's been too long, Lea," His warm breath against her ear made her want to be sick! She didn't know what to do! He had her in a box, and he knew it; with all these onlookers she dared not flinch. She was a prisoner by scenario. "I've had a dress made," He was being kind. "I'm sure you'll like it," He pressed himself harder into Leana's limp back. Even though he wasn't erect, she could still feel him against the small of her back. It nauseated her but at least he was being kind. That was a step up from usual. Eventually, Leana plucked up the courage to swallow the lump that had resided in her throat since she entered the room and turned to face the King head on.
"Thank you, majesty," She nodded her head and stared him down. She would regret the confidence later on; she could tell. With a blank face – that always meant annoyance – he gestured to the east hallway to direct her towards her pre-determined destination.
"Annette will fit you," He told her stiffly. With a meek nod, Leana disappeared down into the hallways as fast as she could, slipping around a curtain into the servants passages where she could walk without prying eyes.
She had wandered the thin passages many times – hell, she knew them better than the staff themselves. She heard echoes when she stepped into the creepy passages. Echoes of laughter- her laughter mixed with that of the young prince. Before he descended into madness. Part of her blamed herself, she should have saved him from himself. The man she knew did not deserve this fate.
Leana shook her head and continued her path towards the kitchen where she knew Annette, the banshee, would be waiting for her. The smell of bread and meat lured her in as she almost floated down the last stretch of passage to the kitchen. Through a crack in the open door, she saw Annette frantically running around the kitchen and yelling at the bell on the wall. Deploma was ringing – most likely for more brandy. Swinging her legs on the table was the little girl of eleven– Lacy. She was a purple tinged pixie with tiny pale wings who had been captured from a village in Seelie territory and put to work in the palace. Annette took good care of the girl and made sure that she kept well out of the king's way as best as she could. She would be of no sexual interest to him due to her age but his temper was not something to be taken lightly.
"I'm coming, you old goat!" The old woman yelled at the bell that seemed to be getting louder by the second. "He's going to be the death of me," She grumbled as Leana made her way in silently under the deafening noise of the bell.
"You?" She asked as if implying that she is to be at least concern regarding the king compared to herself. Both pairs of eyes darted in her direction. The small child jumped from the table and latched herself to Leana's leg, yelling her name with glee. Leana giggled for the first time in months and embraced the child with a smile. Once Annette had slowly approached, Lacy got the message and let go. Leana stood to face her mother-like figure with a weak smile. Gesturing her in for a hug the old banshee encased the girl in a bone crushing hug.
"My girl… I'm so glad you're home," Leana wanted to say that she wasn't. When she was home, she had to look at the king. When she was alone in her human flat, she only had to look at her broken self in the mirror. After a long moment, Annette let go suddenly remembering the dress! "Oh yes!" She exclaimed as she pushed past Leana to lead her out of the room before turning to point a finger at Lacy. "Don't burn anything," The girl nodded as Leana laughed a little as she began to follow the old woman.
After Ariana had died, Annette was the closest thing Leana had to a mother. She was the one who had found her on the floor of her chambers, swimming in a pool of her own blood on the brink of passing out. The first time she was assaulted. Since then, Annette had always been Leana's go-to motherly figure.
"I trust that you heard?" Leana knew instantly what she was referring to. She pursed her lips and nodded, assuring her that Alistair had filled her in. She could not bear to hear the recount again, especially from the woman who discovered the scene. "Poor girl," She muttered just before they broke out from behind a hidden door into one of the upper floor corridors where there was a large fitting room. Allegedly, this room was where Queen Ariana was fitted for her wedding dress over twenty years ago. Leana bet that she looked radiant. Opening the door to the room, it took a moment for your eyes to make sense of the room as the walls of the round room were lined with mirrors allowing view from all angles when stood in the centre of the room. "Up you get," Annette ordered as Leana took her position on a small stool and stripped. Jeans were not exactly the most comfortable things in the world but sundresses, oh! How she loved sundresses. They were so free and breezy against her legs. Annette brough forward a rather beautiful violet dress that matched her long hair and amethyst eyes. "Corset first girl!" She snapped with a smile. "Your time on earth has made you forget your values, girl!" Leana smiled and rolled her eyes. She was never a fan of corsets but then again, what woman was? The banshee pulled the thing over her head after Leana had pulled up a thick petticoat and began to tighten the laces around her waist. On the third pull, Leana gasped and winced. "Beauty is pain, child," Annette joked with a smile but the light hearted nature of the room did not last. A deep voice erupted from the doorway.
"I could not agree more," Both women looked up to see the monster himself standing at the door, observing the scene before him with great pleasure. "I'll take it from here, Annette," He assured the old woman as he gestured with his eyes for her to leave. She didn't want to leave Leana alone with him, but he wasn't asking. Leana shot her a reassuring smile before Annette scurried out past the king who closed the door with his free hand. After placing his half-full brandy on the table, he approached her from behind. Leana squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation for some abusive act but it didn't come. Deploma simply took the strings of the corset and began to lace them tenderly, his fingers only lightly brushing the skin on her back.
Three years ago, she would have melted into his touch in an instant but now, the feeling of his skin against hers only made her body stand ridged. "How was the human realm?" He asked casually, the way a husband would ask his wife how work was when she walked through the door after a long shift. Leana could not bring herself to answer him, her body simply went into shock. That turned out to be a crucial mistake. In an instant, he yanked on the strings of the corset so tight that Leana fell to her knees having been winded. She gasped desperately for air as he knelt beside her and whispered in her ear. "When your king asks you a question, you answer," he warned as he placed a firm hand on her throat. He didn't choke her; it was more of a gesture of power.
"Please…" She gasped. "I…I can't breathe!" She gushed as the king pulled her throat tighter towards his own body, bringing his mouth closer to her ear.
"I like it when you beg for things," He commented with a smirk – she could feel it against her neck. He dropped her and she collapsed onto the floor taking her throat in her hand and taking in all the air that she could. Deploma began to circle her as he watched her recover from his minor act of cruelty. She looked up at him, tears welled in her eyes.
"Bastard," She spat in her moment of anger against him. Though when his face changed and he began to approach her, she instantly regretted opening her mouth. Silence was never her instinct though you would be sure that she would have learnt when to keep her mouth shut by now. He took her neck in his hand again but this time picked her up and backed her into a mirror so hard that it shattered behind her. Glass cutting her back, Leana cried out in pain though it came out more of a whimper due to the strong hand crushing her oesophagus. The powerful demon before her pressed himself against her and studied her pained face.
"You never did have such a foul mouth," 'well you never had such a cruel hand' was what she wished that she could respond with, but this time she kept silent. His eyes scanned her again and finally fixed on a small leaking of blood from the glass cut that was dripping down her shoulder. He let go of her neck, but she dared not move a muscle as he wiped up the blood with his finger and placed the droplet on his tongue with a wicked smile. After a tear had dripped from one of Leana's clenched eyes, he broke from her almost as quickly as he had imposed on her. "Dress," he ordered, taking his brandy from the table, and leaving without another word. Leana crumpled into the floor, haunted by her own image around her. She felt as though her reflections were judging her. The Black Knight should not be reduced to such a mess by a simple man. If her father was here, he would be ashamed of her for letting such a beast get the better of her. But what else could she do?
After finishing dressing, Leana made her way to the throne room once again, trying her best to dig her chin into her shoulders to hide the inevitable bruises that would form over her neck. Entering the room once again, no one paid as much attention to her this time, which she silently thanked. Her eyes naturally fell to his though he seemed disinterested in her, seems he had his fill for the time being. Her eyes then scanned the room, looking for one pair in particular. The king's alchemist, Keomie, always stood out amongst the crowds. Her skin was a deep blue – a water nymph – matching her even darker hair which was tousled around her shoulders and curled down to her waist. Leana had always been jealous of her good friend's hair. Keomie was the most talented alchemist in the realm; first appointed when Leana was only fourteen years of age. The young woman's eyes met Leana's as she dashed over and encased her in a bone-crushing embrace.
"Leana!" She called with pure glee. Keomie was a life-long friend of Leana and once Deploma though when she heard of what had happened between the two, she cast out any fondness that she felt for the man. From over Leana's shoulder, she spotted the king's eyes scanning her up and down. Her eyes scolded him as she broke from her friend's arms. "Let's go," She requested darkly, not even waiting for her response before yanking her through the crowds and into the gardens.
The gardens were the one place that never seemed to change in all the years that Leana had lived in the palace. Roses, always roses. Although Leana had a horrific fear of the smell of the flowers, the sight of them had quite the opposite effect on her. Those flowers were planted by Ariana Dondarion, the king's mother, before she died. The flowers reminded her of her. The garden's were littered with drunken fey who were either trying to gain a little privacy or trying to escape the crushing tension of being in the same room as the king.
As they began their walk in silence, Leana's eyes darted to a young man and an even younger woman huddled in the corner behind one of the lampposts. He was around sixteen if she had to guess, only a year younger than herself, with beautiful deep blue hair and azure eyes that you could drown in. He was a faerie. The girl, on the other hand, had a beautiful yet subtle orange tinge to her skin along with the signature slender wings of a pixie. This fact should have placed her among the serving class of fey though her clothes told a different story. She wore a gorgeous satin dress that screamed nobility. There was no chance that she had been bred into the family, she had most likely been adopted by some more open-minded noble couple. Regardless of her race, she was stunning. The boy stood nervously towering over the small girl – who was a little younger than he was; fourteen perhaps – with a shaky hand behind his head, cautiously rubbing at his hair. The girl herself blushed and smiled up at the boy. Leana smiled at the budding romance, remembering what it was like to feel such emotions though her smile soon wavered. No family would accept their son marrying a pixie woman, noble or not. Mixing the perfect genes of a faerie with a pixie was a taboo of the highest level. They were never going to be free to be together. Leana moved along.
Keomie linked arms with her friend and smiled down at her. "Tell me, what are the human's like?" She asked enthusiastically. Leana shuffled. She couldn't hold the secret of her admirer any longer! Not from her.
"I met someone," She shuffled almost childishly but Keomie was not impressed. Her grip on her arm tightened as she yanked her onto a stone bench, careful not to speak until a tall gentleman had passed by.
"A human!" She hissed as Leana began to regret telling her. "Leana he'll kill the poor boy!" Keomie continued to fuel her guilt. Leana had to admit that the wellbeing of Jonathan had crossed her mind more than once in the last few hours.
All she could picture is the boy waking in the middle of the night to find some dangerous, otherworldly being poised above him seconds before he was slaughtered. The idea was not without weight, the king was known for getting his hands dirty. That was part of the reason why he was so notorious. It wasn't in his character to send out guards for a one-man job that he needed doing.
"I know," Leana sighed as she rolled her hands around in her lap, pushing back a tear that begged to be released.
Beside her, Keomie pondered what she should do. On one hand, this was totally unfair on this poor man who had been roped into this most dangerous game. On the other, this was the first time in almost four years where Leana had shown anything other than fear and detest from the word 'man'. And she was willing to bet, that if the king pushed her hard enough, she could most definitely take him – his death would be a blessing to the realm. "Say something!" Leana begged, the silence was killing her. She just needed to hear what was going through her friend's mind. Keomie sighed and took Leana's trembling hands.
"I'll keep your secret," Leana beamed at her friend. "What kind of a friend would I be to deny you love after so long?" Leana dived on her friend for a crushing hug which she politely reciprocated though her eyes were wide over Leana's shoulder. What she was doing could get a poor innocent man killed… but only if Deploma found out.