Maevas Predicament Ch 01

With a sharp kick to her right side Maeva was jolted awake from a restless sleep. She tried to reach her hands over to assess the pain that was coursing its way up her abdomen, and was quickly reminded of the coarse rope binding around her wrists. She tried to pull against it, assessing the knot, and was reminded of the painful burns it left in it's wake. Suddenly a large hand was gripping her upper arm and pulling her to her feet clumsily.

" You're coming with me pretty. We need our nights entertainment." A menacing voice coming from the large figure of what she could only assume was a man dragging her out of the cages exclaimed. These words instilled a fear in her that she had never felt before. It clung to her throat and dried her tongue. Maeva was terrified for the first time in her life. The man ripped her into the cold air where he was illuminated by the light of the full moon.

He stood about a foot and a half taller than she. The dark skin of his face, neck, chest and upper arms was covered in a thick black hair. The mane on top of his head came to the nape of his neck in a greasy gathering riddled with knots. His broad shoulders, protected by a matted shirt lathered in blood and grime, led down to a massive muscled stomach, which stretched over the dirty shirt. Had he been clean and groomed, he may have been a decent looking man. He leaned into her and rubbed his nose up her cheek and down her neck holding her in place with hands bigger than her head. Trying to pull away was useless, so she held a determined stoic stance.

" You're in for a treat tonight my love." He darkly chuckled as he rose, lewdly rubbing his groin. Despite her strong demeanor she blanched. " Oh deary, don't you dare worry. You'll get more than just me tonight, and I won't even be the worst of it. At least when I have my way with you I'll get you to squeal a bit!" With this he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Her tied hands hung lamely down his back and her chest heaved uncomfortably against his shoulder blade. Before she had time to assess her situation he struck her backside with a sharp clap. She yelped in surprise at this salacious act. " See! Already making you cry out. The boys are going to love that."

He took his huge lumbering steps toward the bright bonfire in the distance. With every step her body swayed making it difficult for her to breath. Her ears let in the boisterous voices of the men mixed with the shrieks of women. Was her voice to be added to the group? The light of the bonfire of the first camp they approached began to light up her face. Her soft ringlets matted with the dirt of the cages shone a dark ominous orange. While her eyes adjusted to the light of the fire, faces of strange men became visible. Each face was equally horrifying. They were faces that had seen months of unspeakable violence and hardship. Yet they were all smiling. Some smirked and admired her form as she was carried by while others already had their hands in their pants preparing for what was sure to be her ruin. The man carrying her stopped and quickly dropped her. Without warning she fell and hit the ground hard without the benefit of her hands to protect her fall. A low laugh rumbled through the crowd of men who had been waiting for her.

Mavea propped herself up on her wrists and struggled to push herself into a kneeling position. " You can just stay like that woman, if that's how to want to start the night." A face yelled from the circle. More laughter followed. She grimaced and stood slowly, raising her shoulders and adjusting her head so that it sat high in the air. She would not give them the satisfaction of hearing her plead for mercy or show fear. She stood tough and resigned, her eyes pretending not to assess the immediate danger that she was in. The group closed in tighter as the man who carried her began to speak.

" Gentlemen, today we have a lovely beauty off the shores of dear old Ireland- the country that cannot stand on its own! Give us a spin my love." As he spoke these words he pulled her bound hands over her head, chaffing her wrists even further, and spinning her in a circle. Some men began to cheer and clap, others just darkened their gaze. The man holding her stopped her abruptly and pulled her flush against his body, her backside to his front. He gripped her hands above her head with one of his and slowly trailed his other hand down the length of her body- over her breasts, curving down her waist, out over her hips and ended with a firm grasp on her bottom. He did this all while moving his hips suggestively grinding against her.

"Men, she is ready for us, and she feels so good." He hissed through his teeth.

At this he folded her out from against his body letting her hand go and catapulting her into the group of men. All at once hands were grabbing her everywhere. Her mind was in a frenzy attempting to adapt to the experience she was going through. A bear of a man grabbed the neck of her dress and tore it roughly from her body. She heard the deafening tear and immediately attempted to cover her now visible corslette but to no avail. Her breasts heaved indecently as she attempted to catch her breath as the many hands continued to pull at her torn gown. She braced herself against the tugs at her limbs and clothing attempting to keep her dress around her ankles where it should stay. The man who brought her into this mess boomed across the group "Alright lads, let me have a go at this beauty." The tugging stopped and she slumped to the ground suddenly exhausted from the attack on her body, her chastity. He stalked towards her slowly gyrating his hips, his fingers deftly undoing his belt and the top button of his pants. Once he reached her he pulled her into a kneeling position and leaned down so they were face to face.

" Listen to me pet, you will survive longer if you cooperate. Be a nice girl, make me happy." He rose to a standing position and began to let his pants drop when there was a sudden- and welcomed- interruption.

" Eleazer, you wouldn't be doing anything you should not be doing now would you?" The voice was deep and smooth. It was spoken in with a calmness that radiated authority. She could not yet see the face of this man because he was standing with his back to the fire. He appeared only in silhouette. Eleazar's face went stark as he struggled to hold his pants up and do his belt. "Why no, my liege, just having a bit of fun...uh...some of the men and I, we, we needed to relieve ourselves"

" With whom, might I ask?"

" An Irish lass we took this morning. No one of importance, sir."

" Well, Eleazer, while I do understand the needs of man," the crowd chuckled " I must remind you that I pay a pretty penny to hire plenty of loose women for my men, you included."

"I know sire, we just, well, wanted a bit of fresh meat so-to-speak. Like I said, just an Irish lass. Quite a beauty too. I believe that James captured her up along the coast of the town we pillaged this morning walking by herself."

At this the mystery man bent his head to the side to get a look at the young woman on the ground. Her flaming red hair was whipped around in a frenzied mess, curling around her neck and falling to her shoulders. Her dress, roughly torn, hung limply from her shoulders, which he noticed were pushed back in a defiant position. The ivory lace of her corslette laced with an ivory ribbon up her delicate, small waist to her breast and lined her full bosom, emphasizing every ragged breath she took. The ribbon lacing in the front of the corset was undone and the opening led several inches down her chest, but the effects of the corset had not been lost. Her breasts thrust upwards and together forming a delicate, but alluring, cleavage. He had never seen this type of undergarment on a woman before, seeing as it belonged to only the wealthy and he usually wasted his time with women less fortunate, and more accessible. He scanned back up to her face and was only able to take in the fierce blue eyes he met there. They radiated pride and sparkled against the flame of the fire.

" I see. Did any of you think to notice anything before you ravaged this woman? Anything at all?" The man asked with his hands out in front of him open. He swiveled around to get a look at the motley crew. "Hmm? Anything?...No...Okay..." He walked towards Maeva and held his hand out. She took it cautiously and he helped her to her feet.

" A corslette. She is wearing a corslette. Do any of the typical peasant women you romp around with wear one of these?" The group of men looked dumbly back at him. He continued. " And the material of her dress, the gold trimmings, the lace alone. She clearly is some sort of nobility." She looked at the group with hard eyes that chastised them for their attempt to dishonor her. The man turned from the group and looked her once over pausing at her eyes. It was the second time they met. He held her gaze while he spoke his next words slowly, "a noble woman is always taken to my chambers."

Maeva's calm demeanor vanished in that one second. He studied her furrowed brow and his lips curled into what she perceived to be a wicked grin. The men cheered and whooped, egging the mystery man on. He turned and made his way back in the direction he came from.

" Bring her to my quarters." He ordered, his authoritative voice echoing in her ears. So this is what was to become of her? She was to be defiled by a man after he rescued her from a hoard. What was stopping him from discarding her after he finished with her? The questions flashed through her mind. She was unaware but Eleazer had grabbed the ropes on her wrists and began to lead her after her savior. Maeva walked limply after, her feet tripping over every bump. He dragged her along faster than she could keep up. He stopped at the opening of a large tent. It looked as if it was two rooms.

"Well sweet, looks like you won't go to waste after all. Enjoy your time, you won't be having much fun in the morning." He growled. Clearly Eleazer was bitter that he had to give her up to his superior. " I'll have my way with you one way or another." He ran his tongue over his lips, the jagged, rotten teeth of his smile showing menacingly. Shoving her through the tent opening he took one final grope of her backside. She stumbled forward into the tent of the man.

She took in her surroundings. The tent, indeed, did have two rooms. In the room she was standing in there was a large table with papers strewn about. In the corner there was a suit of armor and heavy weaponry- a sword, a knife, spear and a shield. These items glowed in the flame of the fire, which was burning slowly under a hole in the roof of the tent meant for letting out smoke. There were oil lamps set about the room lighting it slightly, however only a dim glow emanated through the room. Turning her neck to peer into the second room she realized it was lined with a tent flap pulled up acting almost like a doorway. From her vantage point she could see what she could only assume was a makeshift bed of some sort. It was large and covered in various animal hides and heavy blankets. This was not exactly a place of comfort, however it was better than the cages.

" I do apologize for the behavior of my men tonight. You must understand that it has been a while since they were in the presence of a woman like you." The voice startled her. She hadn't seen anyone in the tent with her. Upon inspecting the area closer she saw the mystery man walking from the shadow of the tent wall behind her. Had he been observing her this whole time? She did not respond. Instead she looked ahead away from this man and stared at the table.

" They can be quite rude. I hope that you were not injured." Again she did not reply. He walked over to her slowly and stood in front of her so she had to look at him. Turning her head up, she looked directly into his eyes. They were a dark green, a color that she had never seen before in a man's eyes. She was confused by the look in them. They seemed soft and inquisitive as they studied her. His hand reached to her arm, she flinched at his touch. He took a knife out of its sheath on his belt. At this she tried to step back, however he held her tightly and kept her from moving.

" Relax, I won't hurt you." The knife made its way to the rope binding her wrists. The cold metal felt dangerous as he slipped it under the ropes and pulled up freeing her wrists. "Feel better?" He asked. Her hands assessed the red ring that the rope left in her wrists. She did not respond.

" I can see we won't be having much to talk about." He stepped back to look at her and she as well took the moment to study this man. He stood tall, at what she would guess was over six feet. His face was lined with a strong, structured jaw. Just a hint of dark copper stubble washed across it, which she thought strange. Most men she had ever encountered wore full beards, especially men of rank. His lips were firm, sculpted and an alluring rose color and they framed his cunning smile alluringly. A smattering of freckles rested along his cheekbones where the sun would hit them. His brown hair shone in the light of the fire with a copper tint to match his little facial hair. It was pushed back behind his ears, coming nearly to his chin in length where it curled into soft waves. Plainly stating, he was rather rugged and extremely handsome. The muscular line of his neck went down into a powerful chest. Even with his shirt and leather overcoat she could faintly make out the contours of his chest underneath. His muscular arms stretched folded across his chest. They were intimidating and connected to sturdy, wide shoulder. By far he was one of the most captivating men she had ever laid eyes on.

" With a woman of your beauty one does not have much need to speak, sometimes it is better to express yourself physically." His words brought her back into her current reality and with them he took a step towards her and his fingers made their way to the ribbon on the front of her corslette. Moving deftly and slowly they began to unfasten the corslette near her bosom. The rage in her boiled over and before she could stop herself, Maeva raised her left hand and struck the man hard against his cheek.

" How dare you touch me in such a way!?" She yelled backing away from him clutching her dress to her chest. He turned his face slowly back towards her, a pink spot forming where the sting of her slap made contact. He was surprised at the power that was behind her hand and rubbed his cheek appreciatively. With the adrenaline she had not realized his strong fingers gripping the wrist of the hand that hit him. He twisted her arm up and back before he spoke.

" You made a mistake in striking me." He spoke calmly. There was almost a smile playing across his lips. His voice made her fearful, however she did not allow this man to see her shudder.

" I am a lady, and you shall treat me as such." Maeva retorted in a strong and defiant voice. Suddenly he lifted her up and roughly pushed her against a pole inside the tent. The wood made a hard contact against her back and the wind came out of her. He pressed his strong lean body into her supple one and began to speak in a coarse whisper, his mouth against her ear.

"Well I am the Prince, and you shall treat me as such." Her eyes widened and a color came twisting to her cheeks. He continued "My dear I believe you are mistaken. You are no longer a lady. You are a prisoner, my prisoner." As one hand held her against the back of her head twisting in her fiery curls the other hand trailed up her thigh slowly raising the skirt of her dress. " Do you understand your predicament? I could take you, right here, right now, and not one soul would heed your pleas. No one would come running at your cries." His knee hitched up to hold her skirt where he pulled it. The free hand now caressed the bare skin of her shapely thigh. " With a figure like yours there is no end to the amount of fun a man could have. "

Her breath became panicked as the fear she had been holding back crept into her eyes and body. He looked to meet her eyes and searched them for a long minute. The blue color had become glossed over with the sheen of tears. Fear? Stress? He could not be sure. It made him feel a way he had not felt before when touching a woman- uncomfortable and wrong. He backed up releasing Maeva. She slumped against the pole for a minute before standing up straight, her breath coming out in short ragged spurts. She looked at the man, assessing him the way prey would assess its predator, attempting to calculate his next move.

" Tell me how you were captured." He demanded. Hesitantly she opened her lips and it was the first time he noticed truly how wonderful they were. Her upper lip a perfect cupid's bow parted from the full bottom lip and the dark pink color was accentuated by the glow of the fire.

" I was walking to my lords house. I am engaged to be his wife, your majesty."

" And this lord, he let you walk the streets unaccompanied?"

" Yes...- I can take care of myself." She added quickly at the sight of his raised brow.

" If only that were the case."

" I insisted to walk alone!" She said stubbornly.

" If I were engaged to a woman that looked like you I would not let her venture anywhere by herself." He mused as he poured himself a glass of spirits and sat. He poured another glass and offered it to her. She looked at his hand reaching out with the glass questioningly.

" Please take it. You must be thirsty and cold after spending time in the cages, it will warm your spirits." Timidly her fingers wrapped around the glass. " Well I am afraid that it is against our policy to return you. You are Irish and we are in the midst of fighting your country. It just won't be possible."

" My lord cooperates with you! My family, we, I, do not resist England! Please return me to my home. I am from a conquered town...I pose no threat, no worth to you!" Meava vehemently

expressed as she rushed closer to the table where the Prince sat.

" Like I said, impossible." The Prince repeated. "By royal decree you are mine to take, I will not be returning you." He said this with a cool calm. She gulped down some of her drink. They sat in silence for some time.

The Prince took this time to examine this captive woman again. Her fiery red hair twirled into soft curls down to the middle of her back. Despite being so dirty the curls emphasized the porcelain skin of her face that was covered with freckles along her high cheekbones. Normally, freckles such as this did not interest him, however on her they were absolutely captivating and emphasized her beauty. Her blue eyes were intense and lined with thick, brown lashes. Her cheeks glowed a natural pink and her lips, well he already spent some time examining them. Her delicate neck led to the creamy skin of her chest, also scattered with freckles. He found himself wondering at where else freckles might find themselves on this woman. Her breasts alone was alluring- an ample bosom rising and falling with each breath, encased in a corslette that pushed them up seductively. She was still standing so he was able to really appreciate her figure. A small waist curving out to a delightfully full hip, like the hourglass he had at home, he thought and chuckled to himself. His father had always compared women to that hourglass, however he had never met a woman who fit the description and shape so completely. The torn dress was a dark midnight blue, and emphasized her figure, hinting at the round bottom that was underneath. She was truly enchanting. He had never seen a woman whose beauty enthralled him in this way.

" Pray, what is your name, woman?" He asked gently. She peered up at him through her lashes.

" What use is my name to you? You may call me what you please as you have already made it clear I am not under my own will, your majesty." She spoke succinctly.