A Gentle Blade Part 5
Part 4 here
First, I want to say thank you to all of my new followers (and the pre-existing ones ofc!!) I can't wait to share more with everyone! Enjoy! *kiss*
Prompt: Bound and Gagged
Fandom: Original Work
TWs: Captivity, mentions of torture, mentions of needles (nonsurgical). If I ever miss any, let me know and I can always add them! XX
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The man was perhaps only a few years older than Leera. His build was thin and lean, his height towering the assassin's. Even if Leera was at full strength, she wasn't sure she could fend him off. Sir Robson trained her to be stealthy. That wasn't so easy when the man constantly had an eye on her, even had her leashed.
The leather on Leera's neck was uncomfortable, even more so when there was a metal ring attached to the back of it where a chain was attached, linking her to the man walking her.
So many times the assassin felt vicious words about to spew out of her, but in all honesty, it was better than the treatment she received from Queen Rennera. Leera was afraid that if she complained to her captor then he might make things worse, and she was in no condition to fight him. The assassin's strength was in her legs. If she could knock the man down, she might be able to wrap the chain attached to her ankles around the man's neck. The problem was that her legs wore sore, exhausted. And anyway, there was no way to knock him down.
Leera was forced to walk in front of the man, who she wished desperately to know the name of, forced to stay ahead so she was unable to try a thing. Even if she were close enough to knock him down, perhaps by tripping him, he would be up too quickly for her to be able to lower herself to the ground without hurting herself. Her hands being tied behind her back with thick rope meant she wouldn't be able to maintain balance, especially since she would already be using her legs. Attacking wasn't an option.
"You're aware who you're doing this for, yeah?" the assassin called over her shoulder. She didn't turn her eyes away from the path for fear she might trip over a tree root or slip in a puddle of mud.
The chain created a wave from the man's hand to Leera's neck before yanking tightly back. She jolted and staggered before continuing their walk. "I'm very aware, scum." The word scum sounded odd coming from his lips, like he was unsure of even using it.
"Then tell me who." Another wave and tug. This wave was larger, causing the assassin to duck her head forward to avoid another shock. When the man was done nonverbally berating her for speaking, she spoke again. If she couldn't fight him to get away, maybe she could convince him to release her. "Tell me how generous you think she is, how much she truly cares for the people of her kingdom, how much she delights when her pets lick at her feet. The queen doesn't care about you, nor anyone."
The man gave a dry laugh. Leera felt a pull at the back of her neck, a small one, just barely noticeable, but then there was another pull. She stopped walking, turned her head back. Her eyes latched to the man's hands. He was coiling the chain around his neck coming closer and closer, step by step, circle of chain by circle of chain. The assassin felt a pit in her stomach. Maybe talking was worse than trying to fight. At least she had some kind of chance if she knocked the man down. Insulting the man's beliefs about his queen...what was she thinking?
With a hand hovering at the back of Leera's head, the man smiled down at her. The other hand wrapped behind her as well and he gathered the assassin's raven hair in one hand before pulling it in front of her left shoulder. Leera swallowed as the man coiled the chain in his hand one last time, resting his fingers and the metal against the skin of her neck. "Look at me," he told her. Her eyes had been darting between his eyes, passed his shoulders, and to the fabric on his chest. It was in tatters, the shirt, she realized.
"Look at me," he repeated, his fingers digging ever so slightly into her skin. Leera grimaced, but looked into his eyes finally, not glancing away again. He brought the hand that moved her hair to her cheek, placed his fingers beneath her ear, thumb across her cheek bone. It was difficult not to look away. "I know the queen doesn't give a damn. She's calloused-" Like you, Leera thought. "-and only cares about shoving your pretty face in a pail of sewing needles." The assassin's eyes darted again.
A pail of sewing needles? Was that better or worse than a night in the king's coffin? Of course it's better, morally. But gods, that pain... Leera could see herself in that moment, in the dark dungeons, moist walls and floor, cold and deserted. She could picture herself on her bruised knees, arms tied back, a guard pushing her head down into a shining metal bucket, her skin being poked and scraped, torn apart as badly, but more consistently, as when the queen dragged a nail down her face. The assassin even heard her own pleas, then felt the needles poking her tongue, scratching her teeth as she begged. The man's thumb stroked her cheek; Leera peered into his eyes again.
"I never knew the queen. I don't think anyone ever did until you killed the king. Praise you for it," he said and Leera's eyes widened. "He was terrible; we all knew it, all experienced it in one way or another." The man's thumb stopped stroking Leera's cheek. "Didn't get better when the queen took the throne. If anything it got worse. She doesn't care, I know, but she's wealthy and she wants you. I'd like to live-" So would I. "-and if the only way to do that is to turn you in- well then- I have to do it." His hand fell from the assassin's face. The chain grew heavier to Leera as he uncoiled the metal from his hand, letting it droop. "Turn," he demanded.
"You can't take me back to her," Leera said. "Please. Please." Her voice was soft, scared.
"Turn." The man's voice went cold, distant, uncaring, opposite of what it had been just moments before.
With one tear following another, the assassin swiveled slowly on a heel, her back now facing her captor. For a minute, her heart leapt, not out of fear, but of joy. He was undoing the rope at her wrists. He was releasing her! But then she heard the shrill sound of a dagger being pulled from its sheathe, followed by the sound of rope being cut. The rope never fully left her wrists; he only unbound it partially before cutting a piece off, and before re-tightening the rope still bounding her.
His hands were in front of her eyes in the next moment, along with a string of rope. "Open, he said.
"What?"
"Your mouth," he specified. "Open it."
"No. No, please don't. It'll be all I have left. Please." He couldn't take her voice on top of everything else. "I won't speak the rest of the trip. I won't," she insisted. Still, the rope hovered in front of her eyes. Leera shook her head and stepped away, her back meeting the man's chest. His heart was beating quickly against her body. He didn't want to do this as much as she didn't want him to.
The rope was nearing her mouth, cutting the air as it came closer, with more speed, more determination. As it approached, just inches away, Leera sucked in her lips. The rope pressed firmly against them. "If you don't open your mouth," the man warned, "I will make you swallow a piece before I tie it around your head." For extra measure, he released the rope with one hand and brought it to the assassin's chin, squeezing tightly at her jaw until she gave, opening her mouth as widely as she could if only to stop the pain he was causing. He slid the rope between her teeth, pulling it back and commanding her to shut her jaw. Then he tied it tightly enough that the corners of Leera's mouth were pulled back as well. There was hardly any room to move her tongue. She was- literally- rendered speechless.
This was how the trip remained. Leera was bound at the wrist, chained at the ankle, and leashed at the neck. Her tongue was pushed back, unable to move. The assassin could only groan and mumble- not hum, as her lips couldn't touch. The man only ever said one more thing, just as they made it to the front doors of Queen Rennera's palace. "Be sure to scream on your own," he told the assassin, "Or else I'll have to make you scream for a reason."
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Part 6 here