Imprisoned

The white surrounding her was blinding and her eyes reflexively snapped back shut. There was a buzzing in her ears and a copper taste in her mouth. Blood. She slowly opened her eyes again, letting them adjust to the starkness of the small room she was in. A look around showed her that she was strapped to a metal bed with a thin layer of foam as a mattress in a cubicle-sized room with a toilet in the corner.

There were no doors or windows. The copper in her mouth was washed away by the rising vomit of initial panic. She choked it back and struggled against her bonds. She raised her head and saw that her feet were strapped with only leather bindings, unlike her metal-bound hands, nothing she couldn't handle. Laying her head back down, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

A fine tremor of energy passed through her and the straps around her ankles lifted and undid themselves. She moved her thoughts to the metal clamps on her wrists and frowned as nothing happened. This was clearly not just any kind of metal. This had been specifically designed to hold someone like her.

The clothes on her were inflammable, some sort of itchy linen garment. A frock of a gown. Her skin was not used to such coarse material and every movement she made had her skin crawling. The thought occurred to her that someone had to have stripped her at some point. She did not remember anything prior to having awoken minutes ago.

Ignoring the fury that rose, she tried relaxing and looked around again to assess her situation. The ceiling was the same solid white as the wall and had a fluorescent light fixture directly above her bed. The buzzing was coming from the toilet and she had a pretty good idea that at least one of these walls was serving as a two-way mirror. Listening harder, she could hear other voices screaming and some crying. There were whispers and shouts, yelps of pain and moans of insanity.

Above the din she heard her name being said: "Finweh."

She tried to focus on the voice, shutting out the rest of the noise. Again she heard it, louder this time. There was urgency in the voice, as if whoever said it knew she was listening.

She answered verbally and mentally, reaching out with her senses, "Who are you?" She chuckled nervously, wondering if that was really the first question she should have asked.

The voice was clear now, as if the speaker was in the room with her. "I'm not an enemy."

She sighed in frustration as she tried unsuccessfully to sit up. She heard her shoulder crack with the strain and a low growl passed her lips. Her power ran loose through her body, flowing out of her and into the small room. The light flickered and went out, the buzzing stopped as the toilet gurgled and flushed itself. Her small bed shook and she heard the bolts attaching it to the ground break. The ceiling and the wall to her right cracked. She heard the voice laughing.

"Are you done?" It was definitely a male voice mocking her.

"That's quite impressive. I didn't know you could do that. We knew they took you for a reason."

She fumed. Her wrists were sore and bleeding from her struggles. She ignored the voice and tried to calm down again. She shouldn't have let herself go like that; it was too dangerous in a room this size.

"Finweh, my name is Ashur. I can get you out of those things if you want." The air around her thickened and she caught the scent of earth. The metal around her wrists warmed and glowed.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

She could feel the heat on her arms where a pair of hands rested and her skin tingled from he warmth radiated from them. The metal melted around her, but there was no pain or burning and the hands lifted off her arms, leaving a cooling sensation running down to her wrists. "Better."

She lifted her arms and rubbed her wrists, noting that the blood was gone. She strained her eyes in the dark, cursing her poor vision, the one flaw in her great powers. Sitting up she hung her legs over the side of the bed and smiled proudly at the cold rubble of concrete beneath her bare feet. She listened for the breathing of this Ashur. He was sitting next to her.

"Where am I? Who has taken me and why?"

She held up her hand and a small flame appeared, lighting the room dimly. There was nobody next to her, but the breathing continued.

"We are in some kind of laboratory. I don't know where it is, who 'they' are, and I'm pretty sure they took you because, well, you're you."

The air around her moved, pushing against her skin, sending chills along her spine. She thought on his words. Whoever took her needed her for something. Or her powers. She was the strongest of the Elementals and the heiress to the throne. But who knew about her that would dare try to something like this?

"Ashur, what are you?" She sniffed at the air, enjoying his earthy scent. He smelled like the men of her tribe.

He was in front of her now, but from the way his voice sounded, his back was to her. "I'm a little bit of everything. I've been here for a few months. I've lost track of the days. But Dark says we are in December now."

"Dark?"

"A witch a few rooms down the hall. There are five of us on this floor. We are high up. They are watching you now. Probably wondering who you are talking to. They probably think you freed yourself."

She looked at the wall in front of her, trying to sense people behind it. She listened, but heard nothing but Ashur's soft breathing. "I don't understand. If you can free me, why can't you free yourself?"

Ashur moved closer to her, she could feel his arm against hers. She felt eyes on her. "Each room is designed specifically for the...creature staying in it. My captors underestimated me though. They did not know I can leave my body."

He chuckled quietly, moving closer still. The hair on her arms stood up as she felt his hand on hers. Beings like this were cautioned against in her tribe.

"You're a telepath?"

She moved her hand from under his and stood. His scent was making her dizzy. Her body was reacting strangely to his presence, tingling and shaking slightly. She needed to focus.

The small flame she had created flickered as he moved to follow her. His voice was so deep; it reminded her of the trees in her forest. "Something like that," he whispered. "Aren't you wondering why they haven't come in here? You broke the light, the toilet, the bed, the walls, and the ceiling. Not to mention, you're talking to yourself."

She turned on him, searching the dim room for some shape of being. She was wondering about that, and many things. Escape plans were forming in her mind, her powers, among other things, were making her skin vibrate. His voice was making her body weak. This was a spell, it had to be.

"No, I don't need spells," he said, reading her mind. "But relax. They won't come in here. They took enough blood to keep them occupied for a while. They can easily rebuild the room. They are more interested in watching you," he paused, then moved behind her, lifting her long hair to reveal the tribal tattoo on her neck. "You are very interesting, Finweh."

She closed her eyes, letting his words make sense in her mind, letting herself fall back, slightly surprised that there was something there to lean against.

This was too unlikely. She needed to get out of this place. There were other things she should be worried about. She needed to snap out of this.

The wind was in her hand before she turned around and threw it at him. She didn't know what good it would do to this formless being, but instinct made her lash out. The sheets on the bed flew aside to lie in a heap on the floor. Debris from the earlier wreckage scattered around the floor. She heard him laugh, but he was not near her anymore, he was across the room, from the sounds of it.

"I told you, I won't hurt you, your Highness." He stayed where he was.

"That's not what I'm concerned about. I need to concentrate and if you aren't going to help, then please leave." She summoned the flame closer to her and blew on it. It grew brighter. She sent it to the ceiling to act as her light.

"Summon the earth. Bring it through the floor, or make the ground shake and bring the building down. You have all this at your disposal, use it." Again the air around her thickened. "Let me help..."

She felt arms around her, lifting her hands to the position. She heard him saying words in her tongue, felt his mind brush hers, searching for what he needed to say the charms. She leaned back against him again and said the words with him, calling upon her power, beckoning the earth to rise and shake. She heard the thunder outside, she could smell the lightening. He was strong. His powers were enhancing her own. They called upon the earth louder, bracing themselves against the shaking.

She felt the building shudder, heard windows shatter, walls crack and crumble. She heard shrieking and alarms blaring. She forced herself to let go completely and give into the wild release of power coursing through her veins. It screamed through her, commanding full control of her body, taking advantage of his powers as well as hers.

The elders taught control and restraint. They taught that giving in was a sign of recklessness and weakness. But this felt too good to be bad.

There was laughter, Ashur's and her own. She was maniacal in her release, on fire inside, powerful.

The loudness of the surrounding earthquake was almost deafening. But that's all there was. The building did not crumble; the earth did not rise to meet her. She could feel it trying to answer her call, but it was far away and struggling. There were no fissures in the ground. As she lowered her arms and struggled to regain control of her powers, she did not feel him near her anymore. The screaming continued outside her unbroken walls and echoed in her head.

She sunk to the floor in exhaustion. "Ashur?"

There was no reply. Her flame dwindled into almost nothing, just the blue of it lighting the ceiling. She called to it, but it flickered and went out, leaving her in complete darkness.

"Damn," she muttered as she tried to stand up.

An arm went around her waist and guided her back to her bed. She lied down and sighed. She was fatigued. Her eyes wouldn't stay open. Her gown was torn and her fingers were bleeding again. Too much power.

"Ashur?" She whispered, turning her head to the side.

Still, no verbal reply, but warmth on her cheek. Her mind was cleared of all her concerns. She did not fear that whatever had captured her was coming for her again. She was not afraid of what her power had done to anyone else. All she could concentrate on was this feeling of carelessness.

There were hands on her skin now and she shuddered in protest, but to no avail. A smile crept across her face as she felt lips on her neck and hands slowly skimming down her arms to her thighs.

"Open." Ashur's soft voice reverberated in her head. She obeyed. Her thighs slowly parted for his eager hands. His lips were everywhere at once. She didn't even try to deny her pleasure at this point. She was caught between exhaustion and ecstasy.

Finweh arched her back as she felt fingers inside her, curiously searching.

"Ashur..." Her words slipped drunkenly out of her mouth.

The thrill of not being able to see him made it even better. Every now and then, between gasps of pleasure, she'd open her eyes and catch a flash of brown hair, or a sliver of green eyes. She saw the pale hardness of his skin before it faded away. But it was the physicality of his fingers and lips. This non-corporeal being was touching her in ways that real men had never done.

He lifted her arms above her head, blood trailing down them, and finally she felt his lips on hers. They were warm and dry, gently nudging his tongue between her lips. She heard him chuckle when she moaned in relief. She challenged the pressure of his lips and got a nip on her bottom lip in reply.

There was weight on her now, but she couldn't open her eyes anymore, her lids were too heavy with sleepy pleasure. The thought that she shouldn't be able to feel his body on hers briefly crossed her mind, like a fish darting through murky waters. But the wetness between her legs betrayed any worries she might have had.

There was no gentleness anymore, there was only need. Her fingers throbbed with pain, but she ignored it and raked her nails down his back, realizing that he had let her arms go. She squeezed him with her thighs as he entered her. A groan passed his lips. She winced in momentary pain. Then it was over and he was inside her.

He didn't move at first and she forced her eyes open. He was looking at her, panting slightly. He was bracing himself on either side of her head. He smiled as he caught her eye and finally moved inside her.

He was hot, thick and hard as he pushed himself deeper. She felt her body tighten around him and she sighed aloud in pleasure. Her skin was on fire now and every part of her body screamed with need and aching.

His green eyes were her world; his steady, rhythmic rocking lulled her to complete bliss. There was nothing but the feel of his cock inside her and the sound of his moans in her ear. He pushed himself in to the hilt, and then pulled himself almost all the way out before slamming back into her. She cried out, raising her hips to meet his, clawing at him with her bloody nails.

He grunted as he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and flipped her on her hands and knees. He grabbed a handful of her long hair and yanked her head back as he relentlessly thrust intro her. Her knees screamed in pain as they rested on the cool metal bed beneath her, but she ignored it and pressed herself against him wantonly.

Ashur bent over her and cupped one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing gently. Her eyes remained closed and the sound of their bodies knocking against each other kept her grounded in reality. A wave of energy was rising in her; it felt like power gathering itself. She was calling out in pleasure, begging for more, begging that he not stop. His laughter was deep and he rammed into her harder, panting.

Everything was fire now. It was scorching every part of her. Her cries alternated between pleasure and pain, but she was lost to the flames. Her power burst through her as she climaxed. He was completely supporting her limp body, groaning and pumping, caught in his own orgasm.

The walls shook and cracked and there was real fire around them now as energy crackled visibly through the air. She collapsed to the metal bed as the walls threatened to crumble down. She opened her eyes and tried to see him, but there was nothing, just thick air, pungent with the smell of wet earth. She moved her hand to her hair, pushing it off her forehead.

She gasped as her fingers touched her skin. She was burned. Her whole body was burned, not badly, but enough that it hurt to move. She tried to call for rain, but her powers were spent. Closing her eyes she tried to sleep. The walls around her stopped shaking and the energy faded away. Shreds of her burnt gown fell to the floor as doors opened and people shuffled in.

Voices muttered and hands prodded her charred body. Their strange words kept her on the brink of consciousness. Words like 'dying,' 'spent,' and, 'just like he was supposed to.' She was lifted and carried off, her mind wavering in and out, and her body aching. The last thing she heard was her name whispered on a sigh.