.gif "talk about sex by @frostsparks")
/// CW: captivity, sexual references. ///
The terrific sounds of battle had long since died, alongside the Princess’s defenders, and now she lay helplessly beneath her bed. Wards that had been engraved one thousand years ago — by the castle's Elfish builders, long since driven out — cracked and comported a sea of glistening, raw magic across the floor.
She tried desperately to crawl away only to find herself plucked and placed back down, upon the bed. “You’re still here. I had thought you would have fled with the royal procession.”
“I-I wanted the Kingdom gone — not me alongside it.” She hid herself again, under the sheets, her Demon sitting down beside her.
“Nor I, sweetest fruit of the tree,” said her Demon. It has all been burned, branches and roots the same. The Princess sat up, smiling as she had when they first met. “Besides, you’ve given me this Kingdom, but I still need you to secure it.”
Her Demon’s hands bore a fine wreath of silver roses, a delicate but unbreakable chain blossoming from one bud. The Princess pushed herself back. “Áine?”
“Your Grace, sweetest one. This was your wish, was it not?” Her Demon drew near and the Princess fled into the pillows, crying. The collar coiled itself around her neck — her Demon tugging till she was bled by its thorns. “You’re going to look so beautiful for the court.”
“But Ái— Your Grace, how could a demon ever hold court? Why would—” The Princess was wound closer and closer, till her tears could be kissed from her cheeks.
“I could not hold my domain with monsters — the people would not tolerate it.” How long till a farmer’s boy, blessed unfairly with destiny, would cut her down. “So, we must make a showing. Soothe them, and show my intentions to make peace. And I know, you wish things to be better, and they will be — in time. Theana?”
Áine held her Princess’s hands, brought them together between their hearts, whom asked softly, “But why must I be there — why must it be like this?”
“When will I tire of this? Six, seven centuries?” How many dynasties could have been sown and felled in that time. How much work would be lost. “There must be a lineage. And, for the people, it must be legitimate, more or less. So you must come—”
“—that they might know you, sweetest one.” The Demon contorted herself silently, that she might whisper into her Princess’s ear. “My consort.”