The Spoils of War
Lashana Lynch as
Henry Cavill as
Travis Fimmel as
"This way, Neil! This way!"
"The path is too narrow, Nessa! We'll never make it!"
"Yes we will! Come brother!"
Nessa grabbed her little brother's hand and practically dragged his small, frail body behind her. Their bare feet bled from the rocks, sticks, and sand that led to their unknown destination.
A sharp icicle spear sliced across Nessa's cheek, blood spilling from her wound and down her dirt-stained cheek.
But she didn't flinch. This was life or death.
Desperate screams pierced the air around them. Neil frantically looked around at the people running beside him and his sister. Bodies falling like flies from the shadows.
Nessa could feel the striking pang of fear all around her. Clutching at her insides, squeezing the life out of her lungs. With every breath she took, she inhaled a cloud of dust-filled smoke.
The smell of rotting flesh invaded her nostrils.
"Nessa!" Neil cried out.
She felt his weight increase before she looked behind her to see her brother bleeding from his leg. A sharp icicle sticking out of his small calf.
"No, no," Nessa panicked as she crouched down and picked up her brother in her arms.
His small hand clutched the top of her torn dress as he grimaced in pain. His wounded leg dangling lifelessly in her arms.
Nessa frantically looked around until she spotted the other women that she had escaped with. A woman with long messy blonde hair and terrified violet-colored eyes stared back at her. Her dress bunched into her hands as her feet sprinted on the ground.
"We can't go on like this, Nessa! We can't outrun them!" the woman shouted.
Nessa's chest heaved with distress as she looked around her to see several other prisoners that had escaped with her, fleeing for their lives. More being skewered by the icicles flying in the air than making it to freedom.
"THEN WE FIGHT!" Nessa growled.
A few other women skidded to stop at the sound of Nessa's voice penetrating the air.
"We don't stop, Freya!" a man said grabbing the violet-eyed woman.
"If we don't fight, they'll kill us all!" Freya snapped at the man as she shoved him back.
Nessa's arms trembled with fear as she carefully placed her wounded brother on the ground.
"No, Nessa, no!" Neil cried in a panic as he tried to grab her.
"It's alright, brother! Don't worry. I'll protect you," Nessa said quickly kissing the top of his head.
She spun around and immediately lifted her hands in front of her. A white light slowly emanated from her hands subtly growing bigger and bigger until it was almost blinding.
"Together!" Nessa shouted.
Freya ran next to Nessa putting her hands in front of her as well. Several other women followed suit while others continued to run for their lives.
Nessa couldn't see past the bright light. She could feel a harsh wind warp around her. The few women beside her chanted until the air shifted and a flat tornado whipped up to form a wall blocking them from the shadows storming in their direction.
"HOLD!" Nessa shouted.
Neil trembled on the ground and looked up to see blasts of fire exploding behind the wall of wind protecting them. Shards of ice smashed against the wind, crumbling into shards on the ground.
"We're doing it!"
Nessa glanced over at Freya standing beside her. A hopeful smile painted her white, porcelain face. It was hard for Nessa to imagine that only a few weeks ago this woman was nothing but a stranger imprisoned in the same cell she and her brother had been thrown into. It wasn't often that Nessa found allies during her time in captivity.
But Freya had become more than an ally. She was a sister.
"They're getting closer!" someone screamed in terror.
"Hold! Do not let up!" Freya shouted to the others.
They could hear the dreadful sound of horses stampeding towards them like a rumbling thunder.
"I can't! I can't!" another woman cried as she lowered her hands.
"Seline, don't!" Freya shouted.
"I'm sorry!" the woman cried frantically as she started to run in the other direction.
Nessa felt that familiar pungent odor of fear grip her again. This was how her family had fallen to her first aggressors. This is how every side lost their fight.
"Forget her!" Nessa said as she raised her arms higher, the wall of wind howling above them.
But spears of sharp icicles started to split through the wall.
Neil scrambled backward, still cringing from the wound in his leg, as large shards of ice smashed on the ground beside him. He put his hands to his ears as fiery explosions went off in the air like firecrackers, lighting up the sky.
Nessa swallowed thickly as her resolve started to crumble like the wall they tried to hold up.
"We have to go, Nessa. We can't-"
Nessa glanced to her side when Freya didn't finish her sentence to see a large icicle nearly the size of a pillar had skewered her in the stomach and lodged itself into the ground.
"FREYA!" Nessa screamed in horror.
"R-run, N-Nessa...run," Freya choked out as blood bubbled in her mouth.
The life drained from Freya's violet-colored eyes before her body went limp, dangling from the icicle spear.
Nessa's feet moved before she could think as she quickly scooped her brother up in her arms again. Sharp rocks embedded into her feet as she ran as fast as she could.
Neil held on tightly to his sister's shoulders. His eyes widened in terror to see a violent stampede of horses gaining on them.
Nessa could see several people around her collapsing to the ground as icicle spears skewered them. The fire explosions above her head were deafening as they drowned out the desperate screams surrounding her.
She could feel the ground beneath her feet getting colder before it started to turn to ice.
They were getting closer.
The Sons of Rangathar.
Her entire time in captivity, Nessa had heard terrible stories of the atrocities committed by the most ruthless men in the land.
Masters of Fire and Ice. Lords of the Elements. Together they were unstoppable in their conquests. What started out as a mere brigade for revenge against their oppressors had turned into full blown tyranny under the most dangerous men in existence.
"Ah!" Nessa winced as she felt another sharp icicle slice against the side of her thigh, further tearing her already torn dress. She tightened her arms around her little brother. Her concern growing for the wound in his leg.
Neil was the only surviving family she had left. After the Cruxs had stormed her parents' castle and massacred her entire family, she and Neil were the only ones to be captured while still alive. She knew the Cruxs hated her family and her people for what they were, but she did not expect them to let her live.
Death would have been better.
They treated her and her brother with immense cruelty. She frequently used her own body as a shield from the abuse they would attempt to bestow on him to exploit his magic. Neil was young. Far too young to be caught up in a war that had nothing to do with him. At every chance, she gave him her food, her clothes, her water.
He was the only reason she found the will to keep living.
But the pair did not remain in the Cruxs' captivity for long before another enemy had stormed them as well.
And so it went.
Neil and Nessa passed from one tribe to another as spoils of war in a world obsessed with attaining power. Her magic being the only reason why they managed to survive for so long.
"Nessa..." Neil whimpered as his frail hand weakly touched her cheek. He could sense her pain and distress that caused him more grief than the wound in his leg.
"I'm okay, little brother, I swear," she tried to smile down at him despite the fear and anxiety in her heart. "We'll make it. I promise we'll make it."
Nessa refused to be passed on to another tribe stripping her of her freedom and her will. She didn't care how ruthless or powerful these 'Sons of Rangathar' were. She would die trying to attain her freedom.
The stars in the sky started to reappear from the hazy smoke. And for a moment, Nessa felt a glimmer of hope.
Her father had taught her that the stars were her friend. No matter where they were in the world, the stars would lead them home. To safety.
She just had to follow the stars.
Nessa's eyes flickered to a bright silvery color as more wind picked up behind her, pushing her forward.
But before she could continue, a huge ball of fire exploded a mere few feet in front of her sending her and her brother flying backwards onto the ground.
Nessa groaned from the pain that shot up her back upon impact with the ground. She crawled on her hands and knees desperately looking for her brother.
"Neil! Neil!" She could barely see anything around her, blinded by the smoke from the explosion.
She could hear horses hooves stomping around her before someone roughly grabbed her arm. She instinctively put her hand up as a strong wind sent her assailant flying into the air.
"NEIL!" she screamed frantically as she raised her hands, sending shadows flying in every which direction. "NEIL! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
"She's a witch!"
Nessa hadn't the faintest idea what was going on around her. All she knew is that she needed to find her brother.
"Nessa!" she heard his faint cry.
Nessa spun on her knees and crawled in the direction of his voice when she saw her brother being held by a masked warrior.
"LET HIM GO!" she snarled as she raised her hands and sent the man flying back until he was impaled by one of the large icicles.
Nessa scrambled towards her brother until an icicle flew towards her, stopping a mere few centimeters from her eye.
"There's our troublemaker..."
Nessa looked up and met the piercing blue eyes of one of the most intimidating men she had ever seen.
His long dark blonde hair had been shaved into a braided Mohawk on his head that went down to the middle of his back. His face was dusted with dirt and blood and a sinister grin split his face as he eyed Nessa like prey.
Nessa's nostrils flared as she crawled backwards on her hands. The icicle following her every movement.
"Where are you going, little witch? I want to see more of your magic tricks," he smirked from on top of his large black horse.
Her eyes flickered silver as she raised her hands. The icicle in front of her exploded into several tiny pieces before slowly turning and pointing in his direction.
The man clapped his hands amused. "Impressive, little witch. Very impressive."
Nessa tried to impale the man with the icicles when suddenly a ring of fire circled her.
She looked around frantically, pulling her feet back from the flames that licked at her skin. She tried to use her magic to quell the flames but they only rose higher.
"The heavier you breathe, the more oxygen you'll lose," she heard a deep voice say.
She glanced up to see a man ride up on a large white horse. His long white hair fell over his shoulders. His golden amber eyes, locked her in his gaze.
"Calm yourself," he demanded.
"FUCK YOU!" she screamed at him.
The blue-eyed warrior next to him threw his head back, roaring with laughter and nudged the white-haired man in the shoulder with his elbow.
"I like her, brother. She seems fun," he grinned.
"She's irritating is what she is..." the white-haired man sneered. His eyes flickered as the flames ignited around her.
Nessa grabbed at her throat as she struggled to breathe. The flames growing around her became a blur before her vision went completely dark.
"Here's to another victory!"
"Here's to another victory!"
The two brothers clashed their tankards together as wine splashed from their cups and onto their hands. The wind rustled between the shuttered windows of the small office room in their massive stone keep.
Drogar drank his wine down in three huge gulps before slamming the empty tankard down onto the wooden table. Smacking his lips together in satisfaction, he let out a loud sigh.
"Keep drinking like that and I'll have to carry your sorry arse to supper," Cyrus grinned as he sipped from his cup.
"Pfft!" Drogar scoffed. "What kind of pussy do you take me for? It's only my 4th drink."
Cyrus chuckled as he placed his cup down. He looked down at the large map on the table and ran his finger over the markings.
"We've nearly covered this entire area," Cyrus said tracing his fingers along the parchment. "Those Rulans put up more of a fight than I anticipated."
Drogar shrugged as he tugged his sleeve down exposing his bleeding arm. "They were hardly a challenge."
Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Says the one who skewered their king before we finished making our demands."
"He was babbling like a fucking idiot. We already know how this goes, brother. Your politics are useless. You always ask but they never surrender and we end up decimating them all anyway. It's a waste of time. Best to bite off the rodent's head while they're still alive between the snake's teeth."
"You and your metaphors, Drogar. You sound like an idiot trying to sound intelligent," Cyrus teased.
"Fuck you," Drogar laughed as he threw the empty cup at him.
Drogar perched himself on the edge of a small table as his fingers hovered over his wound. Light blue crystals formed around his fingers before falling on the wound, the water washing the blood down his arm.
"There's still Lithius..." Drogar said paying close attention to his arm.
"We said we'd forget Lithius," Cyrus said sharply, his eyes tracing the map.
Drogar sucked his teeth. "It's ours for the taking, Cyrus."
"It's too risky, Drogar. You know this," Cyrus snapped back. "We may be powerful but we are not invincible."
"Yet..." Drogar muttered. He flexed his fingers watching the muscles in his bicep ripple as a wave of blue ice coated his skin.
Cyrus watched his brother for a moment before he looked down at his own fingers still stained with black ash.
"You didn't kill her," Drogar said startling Cyrus from his thoughts. "The witch with the silver eyes."
Cyrus shrugged. "I wasn't concerned."
Drogar scoffed. "All these years and still you think you can lie to me. Your guilt after battle is always palpable, Cyrus."
Cyrus sighed as he lowered his head. His long white hair curtaining his face.
"There was a little boy with her... I believe she called him her brother," Cyrus pondered.
"And?" Drogar said standing to his feet.
"Something about them seemed peculiar..." Cyrus said looking at him.
"Hardly seems worth our time, Cyrus," Drogar rolled his eyes.
"As if you have anything better to do, brother?" Cyrus mocked with a grin.
"As a matter of fact I do. 4. Esme, Sulo, Rega and Rina. I've been dying for something to fuck since the moment we left for this conquest," Drogar said stretching.
Cyrus rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Why do you always forget Tyra?"
"I don't forget her, I purposely exclude her. Besides, she's far more attached to you than she is to me."
"That's because you're always arguing with her," Cyrus sighed.
"She's a nagger, Cyrus. And I couldn't give two flying shits about most of what she's nagging me about. Bloody hell," Drogar groaned.
Cyrus shook his head when they heard a knock at the door.
"Enter," Cyrus said.
A man in wool and armor stepped through the door respectfully bowing his head.
"My lords," he said. "The captives have all been detained and are waiting for your review."
"Great. Let's get this over with, shall we," Drogar yawned.
"Anyone worthwhile, Giren?" Cyrus asked.
"A few blacksmiths and carpenters survived," Giren said.
Cyrus looked at Drogar and shrugged. "They're always useful."
"Let's try not to over-populate, brother. They're prisoners, not guests," Drogar said.
Cyrus scoffed at his brother before he looked at the man again. "What about those with magic? We don't want any impersonators. Only those we can use."
"There are 6 we are sifting through at the moment," Giren responded. "One of them being the woman who challenged you on the battlefield."
Drogar laughed mockingly. "It was hardly a challenge."
"She nearly skewered you with your own icicles," Cyrus smirked with a raised brow.
"I was merely playing with her," Drogar shrugged.
Cyrus grinned at how defensive his brother came off.
"Some of the captives have been indicating she might be a descendant of Lythira," Giren added lowly.
Cyrus and Drogar both looked at the man startled.
"Lythira?" Cyrus repeated with disbelief.
"It is only a rumor, my lord," Giren said quickly.
"We don't entertain rumors, Giren," Drogar said irritably.
"Yes, my lord," Giren bowed.
Cyrus twisted his mouth in frustration as he got lost in his thoughts.
"Line them up... we'll be out shortly," Cyrus told him.
Giren nodded and quickly exited the room, closing the wooden door behind him.
"Lythira?" Cyrus said to Drogar.
"It's a lie," Drogar said quickly. "These people hate us, Cyrus. They'll say anything to get under our skin."
"But no one knows of Lythira," Cyrus said. "No one knows of her or the connection to our father."
"It's rumors!" Drogar snapped. "And I'll kill the spineless insect who decided to bring it up."
Drogar stormed past his brother, a cold, icy trail following him.
Cyrus looked up from the large throne he sat on. His amber eyes peering down at the crowd below him. Two of his warriors yanked forward a man with a rope tied around his neck and wrists.
Off to the side sat 5 beautiful women dressed in clean white linen. Not a hair out of place as they watched their husbands go through their spoils.
"And what is it that you do?" Cyrus's voice rumbled.
"I-... I am a carpenter, my lord," the man trembled.
Drogar groaned impatiently on the throne next to Cyrus's. His fingers sifting into his dirty blonde hair as he leaned lazily on his palm.
"You're not applying for a job here, carpenter. You're bargaining for your life. Try answering the question like you actually give a shit whether you keep your head or not," Drogar said wearily.
Cyrus had to lower his head so as not to reveal the snicker that escaped his lips. His brother's impatience when it came to dealing with captives of their battles never ceased to amuse him.
"I can build you houses," the carpenter said quickly.
"We already have that," Drogar said leaning forward. "What else? How will you earn your keep?"
The carpenter's eyes moved rapidly trying to think.
"Tick tock tick tock. You're now wasting precious time, carpenter, and your life is not that valuable at this point," Drogar said. "How do I justify another mouth to feed when I could just bury you with the others?"
"I...I..." the carpenter panicked.
Drogar rolled his eyes and looked at Cyrus.
"I'm indifferent," Cyrus shrugged.
"You're always indifferent," Drogar smirked. "Put him with the others!" he commanded.
"No wait! Please!" the carpenter cried desperately as he was dragged away.
"How many more do we have left?" Cyrus said looking at Giren.
"Three, my lord," Giren said.
"Fucking hell!" Drogar growled impatiently. "Fuck it. Just put them with the rest!"
"But, my lord," Giren started as the warriors started to drag the remaining three captives out of the hall.
"STOP IT! LET GO OF ME!"
A woman's loud voice pierced the air. The walls and chandelier responding to her screams as they rattled ferociously.
The brothers quickly looked up to see the woman they had met on the battlefield writhing against 4 warriors trying to restrain her.
"WHERE IS MY BROTHER?! WHERE IS NEIL!" she snarled. A harsh wind blew around her knocking the men down to the ground.
Nessa tugged at the ropes binding her arms together as her panic increased.
"Neil! Neil-" she started when suddenly she felt the bitter frost of ice against her throat.
She struggled to look up as she saw Drogar angrily approach her. Several people rushed out of his way.
"You..." he sneered at her. "Will not speak... unless spoken to."
Nessa's eyes turned a bright silver as the ground began to shake again. Drogar looked around before he glanced back at Cyrus on the throne, concern and confusion dancing in his amber eyes.
"I want... my brother..." she choked out as she struggled to speak against the ice encased around her throat.
Nessa felt the harsh sting of ice wrap around her hands before she collapsed to the floor.
Drogar looked down at her, amused by her defiance and intrigued by her refusal to remain subdued.
Again the ground rumbled as Nessa rose her head to look into his eyes.
"If you hurt... one hair on his head," she struggled to speak. "... I will kill you with my bare hands!" she snarled.
Drogar smirked at her when a ring of fire circled around her head, burning up the oxygen in seconds and causing her to pass out.
Drogar looked at Cyrus who gave him a disapproving look.
"Always ruining my fun, brother," Drogar grinned.
"Stop fucking around," Cyrus snapped. "Giren."
"My humblest apologies, my lord," Giren said whistling and directing a few warriors to pick up her body. "She has been most challenging to restrain. We will put her with the rest."
"No," Drogar said putting his hand up. His light blue eyes steady on Nessa's motionless body. "Put her in our chambers."
"Which one, my lord? Yours or Lord Cyrus?" Giren asked.
Drogar looked back at Cyrus and grinned to which Cyrus smirked amused with a shake of his head.
"Our shared chambers, Giren," Drogar said.
The wives looked up in surprise at Drogar's directive.
"So we question her then."
"... I suppose..."
Cyrus stopped his brother from walking down the hall and pushed him back against the wall.
"You saw what she did, Drogar. We need to question her. If the rumors are true-" Cyrus started.
"You worry too much, brother," Drogar said pushing Cyrus's hand off of his shoulder. "I highly doubt she's much different from the rest."
"Then why did you choose to keep her?" Cyrus asked as he walked alongside him.
Drogar shrugged as he folded his hands behind his back. "I need a new pet to play with."
"You have 5 wives, Drogar," Cyrus sighed.
"4. Tyra hardly counts. And I didn't say anything about making her a wife," Drogar argued.
Cyrus groaned in frustration.
"You can't tell me she didn't catch your intrigue just a little," Drogar smirked.
"It's not her beauty you should be concerned with. That's twice she's tried to kill you," Cyrus said with a raised brow. "Not to mention she threatened you."
"Women threaten me often," Drogar said waving his hand dismissively.
Cyrus laughed out loud. "That's not something to be proud of, brother!" Cyrus teased. "Besides, she was referring to her brother."
Drogar shrugged. "We'll have Giren look into it. He mentioned he gave her a draft to tame her magic."
"I'd be surprised if that works..." Cyrus smirked.
Nessa struggled to breathe in the sack that was placed over her head while she was carried. Her arms were tied tightly behind her back. Her throat soar from the ice Drogar had encased around her neck.
She swore sooner or later she would end that man's life.
There was a bitter taste in her mouth that let her know something had been stuffed down her throat without her knowing.
"Stop fidgeting!" she heard a man growl before her body landed hard on the floor. Nessa gasped in pain before the sack was ripped off of her head. She looked up to see three men staring down at her.
"Look at her," one of the men mocked. "Like a wild beast."
"A wild beast in heat," the man next to him grinned as he crouched down in front of her. He grabbed at the hem of her dress, sneaking his hand beneath the torn cloth.
"GET OFF OF ME!" she shouted as she kicked him. But he grabbed both of her ankles pulling her down towards him.
"This one has a lot of fire in her. No wonder the brothers wanted her," the man grinned as he leaned over her. "Are you this wild in the sack, sweetheart?"
Nessa's wrists started to bleed from how harshly she tried to writhe her hands free. She soon realized that whatever she was forced to drink while she was passed out greatly impacted her ability to use her magic.
"You know Cyrus and Drogar are picky about their women," one of the men said hesitantly. "They don't like when their things are touched."
"Relax. She's a dirty whore who's probably been fucked by a hundred men already," the man said lifting her dress to her waist and pulling his pants down. "One more cock won't make much of a difference in an already overused cunt."
"Stop! Get off of me!" Nessa snarled as she tried to kick him off of her. His body weight felt like lead. Her own muscles weary from running and fighting for so long.
Nessa closed her eyes and felt something wet splash against her face. She opened her eyes to see an ice spear sticking out of the man's face, coming out through his eye.
She screamed hysterically trying to push him off when she saw the other men next to her immediately light on fire.
Her screams reached an octave higher when the dead man on top of her was pulled off of her body. She scrambled backward against the wall, breathing frantically.
"I hate when they do that shit," Drogar said angrily to Cyrus. "What the fuck do we look like? Savages?"
Cyrus shook his head annoyed when he glanced at Nessa staring up at them with wide terrified eyes, and wet blood staining her face.
"Here," Cyrus said walking towards her.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" she snapped at him.
"If we wanted to hurt you, don't you think we would have done it by now?" Cyrus said reaching for her face with a cloth in his hand.
Nessa flinched as she felt Cyrus gently wipe the blood from her face.
He could tell her entire body was tight with tension. But Cyrus couldn't help his eyes roaming her face, taking in the details he had missed before when she was causing an earthquake.
She had deep dark brown almond-shaped eyes that looked back at him with pure hatred. A cute small button nose and the largest plumpest lips he had ever seen on a woman. Her curly hair fell around her face that he continued to wipe with the cloth now stained with the blood of her assailant. The way her dark, mocha brown skin glistened as he wiped her cheek made his throat tighten.
"Cyrus..." he heard his brother say from behind.
Cyrus tried to tear his eyes away from Nessa as he stood to his feet.
"We should have the women clean her up..." Cyrus said keeping his eyes on her. "Get rid of these bodies. Bring her to supper... we'll speak with her afterwards."
With his arms folded across his chest, Drogar raised a curious brow as he looked from the back of his brother's head to the woman on the floor.
Very few women caught both of their attention. Nessa was proving herself to be rarer by the second.
"Esme!" Drogar bellowed.
In seconds a beautiful red-haired woman came running to the door.
"Yes, my love?" she said quickly.
"I want you and the others to clean her up."
Esme looked from her husband to the woman sitting on the floor.
"Make sure she's decent for supper," Drogar added.
"Yes, my love," Esme said a bit tensely as she noted the way both of her husbands looked at the strange woman on the ground. She stepped back as Drogar and Cyrus walked past her out of the room.
The 5 Wives
"She's not even pretty
"She's not even pretty."
"Don't be mean Rina."
Nessa tried to block out the barrage of insults she was subjected to the moment she was bombarded by 5 beautiful women dressed in all white silk.
Even more intimidating than the two warriors of fire and ice were their wives who looked at her as if she were scum. They shuffled her into a small closet, closing the door behind her until she had finished dressing. But she could hear every word they said.
"Why didn't they just kill her like the rest of them?" she heard one woman say.
"She has magic, I think."
"Filthy lies. These whores will say anything to sleep with our men."
"Now ladies... we mustn't conduct ourselves in such a manner. It's not as if they are taking her for a bride. I'm sure they plan to just have their fun with her before they discard her like they do the others. You have nothing to worry about. We're the ones who really matter."
Nessa wished she could dig a hole in the ground and bury herself so she didn't have to listen to these crows.
"But Drogar wants her dressed like us. What else could that mean if not to make her one of us?"
"Just let them do what they want to her. She'll be gone before the end of the week."
"A WEEK?! WE HAVE TO LOOK AT THAT HIDEOUS FACE FOR A WHOLE WEEK?!
Nessa's jaw clenched in frustration as she looked at her palms. She wished desperately that her magic would return to her, but whatever they forced her to drink still hadn't worn off.
"You guys are being too mean. It's not her fault she's here," she heard another woman speak softly.
"Of course you'd say that, Rega."
"I'm just saying. I heard she has a brother, and-"
Nessa jumped when she heard the sound of pounding on the small closet door.
"Are you done, witch? We'll be late for supper at this rate and they don't like to be kept waiting."
Nessa could only assume the woman was referring to her new captors. She glanced at her reflection in the small mirror dimly lit by the candle.
The white dress felt soft against her skin. It was the nicest thing she'd ever worn since she had first been captured after her people were slaughtered. There were several scars on her arms and legs that she tried to cover, but the long slit in the white dress unapologetically showed off her dark brown legs, shoulders, and arms.
"HELLO?!" she heard the woman shout again.
Nessa took a deep breath before she slowly opened the door to meet 4 irritated pairs of eyes.
"Well, that settles it. Put lipstick on a cow and it still looks like a cow," one of the women smirked.
"You're being disgusting, now, Rina, hush," the tall blond one said grabbing Nessa's arm and roughly pulling her out of the room.
"At least her breasts look nice."
"Her body is okay if you like sleeping with pigs."
Nessa's nose flared in anger when the tall blonde woman blocked her.
"One more foul-mouthed insult and I'll make supper miserable for you," she snapped.
The rest of the woman silenced themselves.
The blonde woman turned to her and put on a smile.
"My name is Tyra," she said politely. "This is Esme, Rina, Rega, and Sulo. We are the 5 wives of Cyrus and Drogar. 5. And only ... 5."
Nessa could hear the tension in Tyra's voice despite the beautiful smile on her face.
"For some reason... our husbands have decided to... keep you and have asked that you join us for supper. We are to make sure you look....em... presentable..." Tyra said curling her upper lip up slightly.
Nessa could see Sulo and Esme chuckling before Tyra snapped at them.
"Let us see what we can do with that... hair.." Tyra said politely as she reluctantly grabbed Nessa's shoulders and directed her to a chair in front of a mirror.
"A couple things to know about Drogar and Cyrus so you can survive this supper," Tyra said as she started playing with Nessa's hair. "Their official names are Cyrus Thorog and Drogar Kvalheim. They are both sons of Rangathar though they have different mothers. They both hate their father so never mention him. Ever. They hate being called the Sons of Rangathar. It is only master or lord as far as you're concerned."
"Drogar has the power to manipulate and conjure ice whereas Cyrus has dominion over fire," Rega chimed in.
"Comes in handy when they're fucking you," Sulo smirked.
"Sulo!" Esme snapped at her.
"Highly doubt she'll get that far..." Rina said with snark.
Nessa heard the women talk among themselves, but she tried to tune them out. She didn't care about the Sons of Rangathar. All she could think about was her brother.
"Is it true that you're a witch?" Sulo leaned against the table looking at her. "You can move stuff with your fingers. Like... oooooooo."
Rina and Esme laughed out loud as Sulo made silly hand movements.
Tyra rolled her eyes as she tried to brush Nessa's hair up into a bun.
"It's like trying to style a rat's nest!" Tyra said impatiently as she nearly ripped the hair out of Nessa's scalp.
"Let me," Rega said moving up. Tyra looked at her suspiciously. "Her hair is a little like mine. I can help."
Tyra gave Rega the brush and moved out of the way to join the other women.
Nessa remained silent as Rega gently moved her fingers through her hair.
"Are you hungry?" Rega asked.
Nessa slowly nodded as she swallowed hard.
"You'll like supper. We have some of the best cooks," Rega smiled sweetly.
Nessa tried to smile back, but it was increasingly difficult. She desperately needed to get out of there.
Drogar grinned as Sulo threw herself into his arms. He sat in a wooden chair before a large table with an immense food spread. The dining hall was loud with laughter and music.
"Did you miss me?" he said as she perched herself on his lap.
"So much," she said wrapping her hands around his neck and kissing him deeply.
Sulo looked back and saw Tyra giving her a deathly glare as she motioned for her to come.
Sulo pouted as she got up from Drogar's lap. He teasingly slapped her ass causing her to look back at him with a wink before she sauntered over to the table where the rest of the wives sat.
"See what I mean?" Drogar leaned over to Cyrus sipping from his tankard. "Always spoiling my fun."
"She keeps them in line," Cyrus said.
"She's a fucking cock block is what she is," Drogar sucked his teeth as Cyrus chuckled mockingly.
Their gaze immediately went to the door when they saw Nessa step inside trailing behind Rega.
"Cock block... meet cock tease..." Drogar grinned as he watched Nessa sit down at the table with Tyra.
"She looks..." Cyrus started.
"Fuckable," Drogar smirked.
"Uncomfortable," Cyrus sighed.
"She's a prisoner of war, Cyrus. Did you expect her to be smiling and jumping for joy?" Drogar said with a raised brow.
Cyrus frowned as he watched Nessa stare at her plate of food.
"Aren't you hungry?" Nessa heard Rega ask her. "You should eat."
Nessa shook her head as her fists clenched. "I need to find my brother. Where is he?"
"Nessa," Rega started.
"Where is he?!" Nessa snarled as she shot up from her chair. A huge wind blowing around her that sent several empty chairs falling to the floor.
"This again?" Drogar bellowed as he stood from his seat. The dining hall immediately went quiet as all eyes were on Nessa and the brothers.
"We invite you to our home, offer you food and clothes, and still you scream and shout as if someone were trying to kill you," Drogar scoffed.
"I will not eat one piece of your shit food until I find my brother!" Nessa shouted at him.
Tyra scoffed in offense and Rega's eyes widened in shock as the rest of the wives anxiously waited to see Nessa's body tear to pieces from Drogar's rage.
But instead his amused chuckle echoed in the dining hall.
Drogar looked down at Cyrus who had a similar smirk on his face.
"Should we take her to her brother?" Drogar asked.
Cyrus shrugged. "Supper can wait," he said standing to his feet.
"Should we wait for you, my lord?" Giren said watching the brothers walk towards the wives' table.
"No, carry on," Cyrus said waving his hand.
Nessa felt her body shrink as the two of them stood in front of her looking down at her as if she were a child.
"Come... we'll take you to your brother," Cyrus said.
"My beloved," Tyra said quickly standing from her seat. "Is that necessary so soon? Wouldn't you like to dine with us first?"
"We won't be long, Tyra," Cyrus said keeping his eyes on Nessa. "Come quickly, Nessa."
Tyra's nostrils flared in anger as she watched Nessa walk off with the warriors.
"She must be a succubus," Sulo said. "How else does she get them to obey her like tha-"
Before Sulo could finish speaking Tyra had slapped her hard across the face.
"They are not obeying her," Tyra snapped. "She is nothing to them. They are merely showing her to her brother. That is all. Speak no more of this!"
Sulo pouted as she rubbed her cheek. Rega furrowed her brows in concern praying that Nessa would be okay.
Cyrus held open the gated door deep within the keep.
"He's down there," Cyrus said. "Last cell on the right..."
Nessa looked between Cyrus and Drogar as if it were some sort of trick. She bunched her dress in her hands and quickly scurried down the narrow corridor between the cells.
"What do you make of her?" Cyrus said folding his arms across his chest.
"She's entertaining," Drogar smirked.
"Brother," Cyrus said flatly, giving Drogar a sideways glance.
Drogar chuckled with a shrug. "I say we let the potion wear off... see what she's really capable of."
"Is that so wise?" Cyrus asked.
"What can she do? She isn't more powerful than us. We have yet to come across another that matches our might. Besides, I thought new challenges excited you."
Cyrus furrowed his brow as he watched Nessa fall to her knees and start weeping as she reached inside the gate.
"Perhaps... but we don't yet know what she's capable of," Cyrus said. "What she's been through..."
"Then we'll find out..." Drogar said.
"Baby brother," Nessa wept as she clung to the gate. "Neil!"
Tears streaked down Nessa's face as she saw her brother sleeping in the cell he was locked inside. His leg had been bandaged and a blanket covered his body. At least they looked to have taken care of him, but she needed him in her arms. There was no safer place for him than by her side.
Drogar and Cyrus glanced at Giren approaching them. He bowed respectfully before speaking.
"We have still not yet confirmed if the woman is a descendant from Lythira. However, we have confirmed that she and her brother were once nobility. Heirs of the Farwin throne. Their people were slaughtered by the Cruxs. She and her brother were the only survivors."
"Nobility..." Drogar said looking at her as he stroked his beard. "Nobility means nothing in this age."
"But magic does," Cyrus said. "Have you deciphered her magic."
"Not quite, my lord, but we hope to have a full understanding by tomorrow," Giren answered.
"Drogar and I may just do that ourselves," Cyrus said watching Nessa run back down the corridor towards them.
"You must release him," she said frantically.
"Your brother is being taken care of. He's been fed. His wounds were dressed-" Drogar started.
"A cage is no place for a child!" she growled. "Release him!"
Drogar looked at her as if she were crazy. He roughly grabbed her arm yanking her towards him as she winced in pain.
"You seem to be under the impression that you have any power here," Drogar snarled at her. "Do not take our kindness for weakness."
"Kindness?!" she scoffed. "You killed innocent people with no control over their fate! My brother nearly died by your hand!"
"And it is by my hand that he lives," Drogar snarled at her. "It is by my hand that you live. Talk to me like that again and see how quickly that can change."
Nessa glared at Drogar as she yanked her hand out of his grasp.
She rubbed her wrist as she looked between the two of them. The question itching the tip of her tongue that she was hesitant to ask.
"What do you want with me?"
"She probably hates you
"She probably hates you."
"Let her hate me then."
Cyrus smirked at his brother's flippant attitude. He diverted his eyes that glazed over with thought.
"Are we being... careless?"
Drogar rested his head back against the marble wall of the warm bubbling tub he bathed in as he felt two pairs of lips kissing down his neck and over his chest. He opened his eyes and met his brother's pensive gaze. His amber eyes showing no signs that he was aware of two of his wives trying to please him while he was lost in his own thoughts.
"Careless about what?" Drogar asked.
Cyrus sighed. "Everything. I feel... we've been missing a few steps."
"Brother," Drogar said dropping his head. "We are on the brink of conquering the entire world. What do you have to fear?"
Cyrus raised his eyes to meet Drogar's gaze. "There is so much about ourselves that we don't yet know. Our father-"
"There is no room for him in this conversation," Drogar snapped.
Cyrus shook his head in frustration as he leaned his head back. "How can you ever hope to tackle your weaknesses when you refuse to address them in the first place."
Rega and Rina softened their touch again Cyrus's body sensing his tension. They glanced across the tub at Sulo and Esme who also seemed caught off guard by an upset Drogar.
"You always bring this up," Drogar said irritably. "We've come this far and yet still you doubt."
"There's nothing wrong with being cautious," Cyrus said.
Drogar scoffed in annoyance. "Cautious? What is caution to a god in a world he already owns."
"Careful, brother, there's not enough room in this tub for your huge fucking ego," Cyrus said.
"I thought you were going to say cock," Drogar grinned.
Drogar exchanged glances with Cyrus and the brothers immediately burst out laughing. The wives eased their bodies against their husbands again once the quarrel had been averted.
"Ah.." Drogar winced from Sulo rubbing over one of his open wounds. "Careful, darling, that hasn't yet healed."
"I'm so sorry Drogar!" she squeaked as she gently kissed his nipple.
"Why haven't you had the physician look at your wounds yet?" Cyrus asked.
"Fuck a physician," Drogar said dismissively.
Cyrus rolled his eyes at his brother's stubbornness.
"Perhaps our little witch might be able to help with it instead," Drogar smirked.
Cyrus looked at his brother curiously.
"Esme," Drogar said.
"Hmm?" Esme said rubbing his chest as she wrapped her legs around his thigh.
"Be a dear and bring me the witch," Drogar said kissing her cheek.
Esme looked at him a bit perturbed before she plastered on a smile.
"Yes, my love..."
She reluctantly moved out of the water and climbed out of the tub, letting the water fall from her naked body. She grabbed a towel and disappeared out of the door before returning a few moments later with Tyra and Nessa.
Nessa tensed to see so many nude bodies at once. She wished she could return back to cleaning and plotting her escape.
Drogar groaned annoyed. "When I said witch I meant the literal witch not the figurative one, Esme."
"Brother..." Cyrus smirked giving him a look of warning.
"Nessa was busy cleaning," Tyra said impatiently with her hands on her hips. "What ever do you need her for?"
"She has other duties, wife. I have wounds that need tending to," Drogar said annoyed.
"That's what a physician is for!" Tyra blurted.
"Tyra!" Cyrus snapped loudly.
Tyra looked at Cyrus startled catching his look of warning before she lowered her head. "My apologies, beloved."
Tyra gave Nessa a dirty glare before she rushed out, her blonde hair whipping behind her.
"She likes to test me," Drogar said irritably. "Now my entire mood is fucking ruined."
"In fact... why don't you all turn in early. I want to be alone," Drogar said relaxing back against the wall and closing his eyes. "Nessa... you stay."
If looks could kill Nessa swore she would have dropped dead in that very moment. She wished she could tell these women that she abhorred both of these men and wanted nothing to do with them.
She looked down as she heard the women walk out of the steam room, a grumble on their lips.
"Giren, tells me you're a healer..." Drogar said.
Nessa looked at him and couldn't find her words to speak so she merely nodded.
"Well..." Drogar said motioning to her with his chin.
"Your potion has yet to wear off of my magic," she said annoyed.
"From what I could tell, witch, you're far more powerful than a mere potion..." Drogar challenged her.
Nessa looked from Drogar to Cyrus watching her attentively.
She looked down at her white dress, not knowing what she should do next.
"You can leave it on if you prefer..." Cyrus said as if reading her thoughts.
"Or take it off..." Drogar smiled. "Just don't make me wait much longer."
Nessa took a deep breath as she walked to the edge of the tub. She dipped her toes in, feeling the warm water before she sat down and slowly slipped her body into the water.
She glanced at Drogar, who waited for her, watching her like a ravenous beast waiting to devour its prey. She floated over to him and looked at his chest that was decorated with hundreds of scars.
"I don't... which wound?" she said confused.
"Find them..." Drogar said keeping his eyes on her.
Cyrus smirked amused.
Nessa wanted to drown him.
She placed her hands against his damp chest and shuttered at the contact. Her fingers roamed down his chest, feeling scar tissue that she couldn't figure out which were old and which were new.
But as she felt Drogar's hand round her waist, she began to realize he may not have been interested in her healing magic at all.
Nessa tried to concentrate on whichever open wound she could find, ignoring his roaming hands when she felt his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up.
She locked eyes with him and saw his mouth split into a grin.
"You're too pretty to be a witch..." he said to her.
"And you're too dumb to be a king," she said before she could stop herself.
She fully expected him to choke her but instead she heard both he and Cyrus laughing.
"I knew I liked her for a reason," Drogar said to Cyrus.
"You'd behead anyone else who spoke to you like that. So yes... I imagine you do..." Cyrus grinned with a raised brow.
Drogar grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him until her body flushed against his. Her soaking wet dress, clung indecently to her naked form. His hands roamed the curve of her backside, exploring every valley and hill of her body.
"You know what I like about you, Nessa..." he said possessively squeezing her cheeks. "You're not submissive..."
Drogar latched his lips onto the curve of her neck, sucking hard. He parted her legs to straddle his thigh as he moved her hips in a grinding motion, feeling her core against his naked thigh.
"Cyrus and I like that kind of woman... the type that doesn't make it easy," he said kissing her neck. "You're not easy, are you, Nessa..."
Nessa instinctively closed her eyes, her body heat skyrocketing from Drogar's provocative touch. She had never been touched like this before and the feeling was not having the effect she thought it would.
"Are you referring to your sad excuse of magic or your inability to fuck properly," she said mockingly.
Drogar genuinely laughed against her neck as he slipped his hand between the slit of her dress and palmed her entire core causing her to gasp out loud.
"Now she's just playing with us, brother. She enjoys this little game..." Drogar mused as he rotated his palm in rough circles.
"You might be enjoying it more than her, Drogar..." Cyrus said lowly.
"Hmm... what do you say, Nessa..." Drogar pushed his face into her damp bosom, still blocked by her white satin dress. Her could see the outline of her nipple through the linen and eagerly sucked it into his mouth.
Cyrus's amber eyes watched attentively the expression on Nessa's face morph from hateful anger to desperate want as she anxiously bit her bottom lip.
"I don't... actually think she's been touched before..." Cyrus observed.
"Impossible..." Drogar said pulling back and looking at her. "A prisoner of war? Untouched?"
Nessa looked at Drogar and furrowed her brow in anger before she shoved his chest, pushing herself away from him.
"That's none of your business," she snapped at him.
Drogar laughed to himself and pushed his body off the wall.
"She still doesn't seem to have a fucking idea how this works," Drogar said floating towards her.
Nessa swallowed thickly as she tried to float away from him when she felt hard flesh bump behind her.
A large hand quickly grabbed her waist before her back met Cyrus's chest.
"You know women, brother... they don't like to tell..." she heard Cyrus say against her ear. His long wet, silver-white hair covered her shoulders from how closely he leaned into her. She could feel his manhood hardened against her backside and couldn't tell if he was erect or normally this large.
Cyrus wrapped his hand beneath her chin and pulled her head back against his shoulder as his lips found the valley between her neck and shoulder.
She felt Drogar's body press against her stomach as his hands grabbed her hips, slipping his fingers between the split in her dress to touch her again.
Nessa remembered Rega telling her not to worry about dealing with both brothers at once because they had favorites. Esme, Rina, and Sulo were Drogar's favorites and Cyrus had grown more attached to Tyra and Rega. They never slept with any of the wives at the same time.
Nessa figured she was either lying or this was something completely new.
Either way... she was prepared for this moment.
She relaxed her body as she allowed them access to her without retaliation. Cyrus peeled the strap of her dress down, exposing her shoulder before his lips caressed the curve.
Drogar was less humble as he nearly tore her dress to feel her bare backside again.
She had studied the two of them fairly well in the few hours she had been held captive. It was a skill she adapted as she was passed from one captor to another.
She wrapped her arms around Drogar's neck and immediately pushed her lips against his in a desperate kiss.
Cyrus looked at them both surprised by Nessa's sudden cooperation.
She could feel an icy chill on her lips when their lips parted.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," Drogar grinned before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp.
"Drogar? Drogar!" Cyrus said suddenly. Nessa immediately swam away as Cyrus rushed towards his brother.
"What did you do?!" Cyrus snarled at her. "Nessa!"
Nessa heard Cyrus yelling for her as she scrambled out of the tub. She ran towards the exit when a flaming wall of fire blocked her path.
She turned to Cyrus who was glaring at her angrily as his eyes glowed brightly. He swam towards the edge of the tub when Nessa raised her hands to the ceiling.
The room began to shake and as Cyrus looked up, the ceiling started to collapse blocking his view of her.
"NESSA!" he shouted. But she was already running out of the room.
"WHERE IS SHE?!" Drogar snarled as he stormed into the corridor completely butt naked.
"Drogar, put some fucking clothes on!" Cyrus snapped as he threw a pair of pants at his brother. "She's already gone. Took her brother and left."
"How? How the fuck did she get away?" Drogar said stuffing his legs into his pants. "I thought that potion subdued her."
"Seems she played us for a fool," Cyrus muttered as he leaned back against the wall with his arms folded across his still wet chest that was steaming from the heat radiating from his body. "I told you she was unpredictable."
"I'll show her fucking unpredictable," Drogar said storming down the hallway. A wave of ice coating the walls as he walked.
The 5 wives frantically ran outside just in time to catch Drogar and Cyrus mounting their horses.
"Are you sure you don't want a unit to go with you?" Giren asked handing Cyrus his sword.
"No... my brother and I go hunting all the time," Drogar smirked at Cyrus.
"Cyrus! Please!" Tyra said trying to block them.
"Fucking hell.." Drogar rolled his eyes.
"It's just one girl! She's not important!" Tyra pleaded.
"You forget yourself, Tyra. I say what's important and what's not. Now move," Cyrus demanded.
Tyra looked at him with hurt in her eyes before Rega grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side.
"The hunt is on," Drogar smirked as he kicked his feet against his horse. Both brothers riding off with a trail of ice and fire behind them.
1/16/2022 11:44:46 am
2/10/2023 09:23:34 pm
Omg more please
Leave a Reply.
Writing is my happy place. A coping mechanism to deal with my depression. Sometimes when I don't feel like writing a whole book, I do short stories.