A Night's Submission

There had been many instances in her life that Karis had been shamed, but none so heinously as what she had suffered at the hands of Lorath. It hadn't taken so great a leap of logic for her to figure out that his identity had been false when the real owners of the house had returned from their trip to the market a village over. Had the woman not been out with her husband, she might have accused him of having an affair with the mysterious blonde she'd found naked in her bed, cum still leaking from her glistening sex. Her shriek had woken Karis from her sex-induced slumber, hurling obscenities and whatever loose objects were at hand until her husband had come to restrain with pregnant wife. He balked at the sight of Karis, dragging his wife away so neither needed to look upon the girl in her state.

Explaining herself did her little good. Although the man seemed to believe her, the wife was having none of it, too enraged by the discovery to see reason. Karis couldn't say that she blamed her, either. She might have felt the same, were their positions reversed.

With al the haste she could muster, Karis dressed herself in the clothes that had been acquired for her, only then noting an absence of any undergarments to protect her modesty; at least the shirt and pants fit enough to cover her reliably enough. Still lacking any footwear, Karis swallowed her pride and made good her exit, running out through the farm fields and towards the distant treeline, too angry and ashamed to do anything more than try and outrun her emotions as well as the poor couple that had been pulled into the ordeal against their will.

Not only was she ashamed of herself for having been caught in the first place, she was sorely disappointed and furious with having been manipulated as she had.

Perhaps there might have been other kind farmers or villagers willing to help her, had she just been smart enough to travel further than the first clothesline she spotted when arriving in the village. Had she found another woman, perhaps, instead of Lorath, she might have been spared further abuse by her devious captor. That the Elf and Lorath were the same man, she no longer had any doubts. If Lorath had ever been his real name, that remained to be seen, but there was nothing to be gained by letting that particular difference of facts distract her.

Karis spent the better part of a week making her way to the next village, having to make frequent stops to care for her feet. By the time she arrived, she looked worse than she had when she had escaped from the site of her original confinement. Most of the people here looked down on her, seeing little more than a beggar in clothes that were obviously stolen in their eyes. It took her near until nightfall to find someone willing to hear her out, an elderly crone who was likely as exiled from the village as she was. She fussed over Karis' physical state, ushering her inside her humble hovel to help her wash while hearing her tale.

By the end of it, the crone seemed far angrier than she had any right to be, perhaps empathizing with Karis on some level the girl might never truly understand.

The old woman managed to procure some clothes better suited to Karis' body, even coming up with some underclothes that would make her feel much more comfortable. On the morow, they ventured into the market together to find the last few items that Karis would need to see her safely back to the city; stockings and shoes, some food for the road, and a bone-handled knife for self-defense. While Karis would have preferred a sword, she knew how to defend herself with most weapons, even something so small and intimate as a knife.

Karis had promised and sworn on her honor to the woman that her kindness would not go unpaid, that she fully intended to return to return the favor in some way, even to the couple that had shouted her from their homestead not a week prior. It went against her code as a Knight to leave such debts unpaid, least of all to leave her own honor unavenged.

Lorath - or whoever that elf truly was - would pay for his crimes.

---*---*---*---*---*---

"You've hardly touched your food." Lenore finally said aloud, having been watching Karis ever since her fellow Knight returned to the city. Their sisters were out on their own individual missions, their brothers at home dining in another room. Though none of them were related by blood, they were all orphans of war, having sought refuge in the city, raised up by the Knight-Master of the Order of the Golden Blade.

Karis had been pushing her vegetables around her plate, staring into the middle distance without seeing anything. Even now, nearly a month after her ordeal, she felt ill at ease. In the safety of her own home, she was profoundly uncomfortable, as if a piece of her had been stripped away, leaving her exposed in a way she had never felt before. She'd managed to avoid telling anyone about what had happened, but there was no mistaking her failure; her arms and armor had been lost, and had she succeeded, she would have celebrated with her brothers and sisters at home, as was their tradition.

Haldon had pressed, of course. As the senior Knight in the absence of their Master, it was his responsibility to look after the well-being of his comrades, to debrief them of their quests, and to make sure such deeds were logged in the annals of their collective history.

Karis had spared him the details, and knew he wasn't fooled. Sooner or later, she knew he would dredge the facts from her. Karis could only pray that wouldn't happen until she'd dealt with Lorath once and for all.

"Kari?" Lenore prompted. "Was it really that bad?"

Karis stirred from her reverie, looking up at her friend. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry, I don't have much of an appetite.." She nudged her plate away with a sigh. "I've never been so humiliated in my life, Lenore. Never."

"Not even when Grayson broke into our quarters while we were washing and made off with our clothes?"

Once, the memory might have brightened her mood. It had been a harmless prank, and their revenge was the better part of the memory. They'd been little more than girls, then. "Far worse." Karis said in a whisper.

Lenore looked at her strangely, perhaps beginning to infer some of the context that was missing. "What happened, Kari?"

Karis shook her head, moving to stand. "I don't want to talk about it..."

"Please." Lenore pleaded, rising as well, her own half-eaten meal forgotten. She began walking around the table, speaking in an effort to keep Karis from leaving. It was working. "You haven't been yourself since you came back. No smiles, no jokes. You barely eat, I can hear you moaning in your sleep, troubled by nightmares. What happened to you?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Karis snapped. Lenore flinched back for her, and Karis immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Lenore. Please try and understand, it isn't... easy to talk about, let alone think about. And I can't stop thinking about it." That much was true, but even that was half-true. It wasn't just the humiliation and degradation that bothered her, it was the nagging fact that she had enjoyed some of it. Been made to enjoy it.

"I just want to help." Lenore said plainly, stepping closer once more. When she laid a hand on Karis' shoulder, the blonde didn't shy away, instead turning in towards her sister's embrace.

The tears came far easier than words could. She felt so foolish, so weak and helpless. Karis sobbed quietly into Lenore's shirt while the other woman held her, comforting her as best she could, a hand stroking through her long blonde hair.

"It's okay, Kari. I'm here - we're all here. Just... just let it out. Let us take care of you..." Lenore murmured, among other encouraging words, without knowing what it meant to Karis that someone could care so much for her after she'd been defiled and dishonored by a common thug.

When at last she felt like she could speak, Karis pulled away and wiped at her eyes, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Lenore. You all deserve better from me."

"We just want to understand, that's all." Lenore said gently, trying a reassuring smile. "Haldon is furious, but not at you. If the Old Man were here, I'm sure he'd be the same."

Karis let out a rueful laugh that almost came out a sob. She could well imagine what Garrick would have to say. She could also imagine being unable to keep the truth from him. It was a silver lining that he was away on business.

"Come." Lenore said, taking Karis by the arm and leading her towards the door. "Let's have a bath, and try and find something happier to talk about. And then tomorrow, we can see about having your equipment replaced."

Karis wanted to deny her, but the sound of a bath sounded divine. She had bathed crudely on the road and quickly upon her return, but neither had been the relaxing sort of self-indulgence she had needed to wash away the filth of her ordeal that lingered. "Yes... yes, thank you, Lenore."

As they opened the door to leave the ladies dining hall, they encountered Haldon, fist raised to knock on the door. He looked just as surprised to see them standing there as they did, but he recovered first.

"Karis, I was just looking for you." He said, looking between the two. Lenore let go of Karis' arm, letting her sister-Knight stand on her own.

"Not now, Haldon. The last thing I need right now is you pestering me about my failures."

Haldon shook his head. "No, it's not that. There's been a message for you." He held up a slip of paper in his other hand, offering it to her.

Karis frowned, a chill running down her spine as she took it.

'We haven't finished what we started. If you want your dignity back, you know where to come and get it. Come alone, or not at all.'

The blood drained from her face, and Lenore took the note before Karis could think to protest. By the look on Haldon's face, he'd already read it, himself, but was unable to really decipher its meaning.

"It's him, isn't it?" Lenore said, an accusation in her voice as the message crumpled in her fist. "Is this from the man that got the better of you?"

Karis couldn't come up with a denial clever enough to get them to leave the matter alone, and nodded quietly.

Haldon frowned. "You're not going back there, Karis. Not alone."

"Of course she isn't!" Lenore snapped. "I'll be damned if I don't go with her. Who else do we have?"

"Valen is due to leave soon, and unless something goes wrong, we won't see Bothor or Leandros for another week. It's just us, but I can't leave until Garrick's return."

"Stop it." Karis croaked, but if either of them heard her, they didn't heed her words.

"Aldrick, Henrietta and Lothar are at Northpoint, we could send for them. Erienne and Devos should be here by dawn." Haldon went on. Lenore was nodding.

"Have them meet us, then. Karis and I will start ahead at a pace they can catch up to, and then we--"

"I said stop it!" Karis yelled, panting from anxiety more than anything. "Do you two think so little of me?"

"Of course not, Kari, we just--" Lenore tried to explain, but Karis cut her off.

"More than my dignity is at stake here, more than my safety. My honor! This is a challenge for me, and me alone. Do you think I cannot handle myself?"

Haldon looked about to say something foolish, but Karis killed it with a look. Lenore looked ashamed for having suggested that Karis wouldn't be able to take care of herself.

"I'm going." Karis stated flatly, keeping the tremor from her voice. "I must. You both know that I must or what have I dedicated my life for? If I cannot do this, then I am not worthy of calling myself a knight at all. I am not worthy of Garrick's teachings." She regarded the both of them, as if to challenge either of them to stop her now. When no further protests were made, she nodded. "Good. Now, out of my way, Haldon."

Karis was already pushing past him out the door before he could think to reply, but Lenore stopped him. "Leave her, Haldon. I'll talk to her, perhaps get her to see some reason. But she's right. We can't stop her from doing this, not without tarnishing her honor, let alone all that we and the Order stand for. She does need to do this. But I will not let her go alone. Not entirely."

"Look after her, Lenore." Haldon said, and nothing more.

Lenore rushed to catch up to Karis.

---*---*---*---*---*---

In the end, Karis had won out. It had taken some effort to convince Lenore not to come with her, even when she tried to invoke her right to stand as a second. Through pleading and some obfuscation of the truth, Karis had managed to get her friend to back down. Having her follow her back to the site at which Lorath had first humiliated her would have been catastrophic for at least to reasons. Firstly, the elf would slip away, robbing Karis off the opportunity to avenge herself.

Otherwise, had he suspected that Karis didn't come alone, he might have instead targeted her sister-knight and used her for leverage. That was a situation she could not afford, because she knew there was no way she would be able to defeat Lorath if he held Lenore hostage. Worse, her secret might be revealed, the truth of her misuse revealed to Lenore, and eventually, to the rest of the Order.

Whether or not Lorath was dealt with and her honor restored, she would never reclaim her dignity, then. Everyone would know that she had been used like a slut, had enjoyed it, even. They would never look at her the same again.

Especially Haldon, and worse, Master Garrick.

After equipping herself with lighter armor than had been robbed from her, Karis set out with a borrowed horse at speed. The longer it took for her to arrive, the more likely that Lorath would suspect that she had not heeded his message, and thus, would not be there for her to confront. He might suspect that she would not be coming alone if she took too long.

Ultimately, it wasn't even the hope that she might reclaim her lost equipment that inspired her, nor was it even the opportunity to reclaim her dignity. Lorath was a monster of an elf, a rapist of the worst order, and he needed to be put down. There was no telling how many other women he had ravaged as he had done to her, but she could not rest knowing that anyone else would suffer at his hands. Honor and decency demanded she put this matter to rest once and for all.

She rode hard for the first day and night, stopping only when the needs of her horse demanded that she not put the beast through too much strain. Even that made her anxiety grow; every moment counted, and she was eager to put this ordeal behind her. She slept poorly that night, plagued by vague nightmares of Lorath's human visage grinning down at her while he choked and fucked her. When she woke, she thought she could still feel his hand around her throat, his cock filling her.

She didn't like that she felt aroused, and doing nothing about it, set off at first light.

Setting a more tolerable pace for her mount, Karis' journey continued through the next day and night without mishap, aside from those imagined. She couldn't help but to think about what would happen when she arrived. The burning desire to beat Lorath in single combat, to see the life drain from him.

Although such thoughts and desires for vengeance were cautioned against through her Order's teachings, Karis couldn't bring herself to care in this particular instance. Lorath was a monster, a beast who deserved to be put down and forgotten, so that those who had been wronged by him could find solace, and no other would have to endure what she and others had been through.

By midday of the third day, Karis passed through the village in which she had been deceived and surrendered herself unwittingly to her captor. The memory still burned bright, bringing an equal measure of shame and unbidden desire. She opted to skirt the village, not wanting to be recognized by the couple whose home had been defiled by her and Lorath.

From there, she slowed, because her memory had begun to fail her. Her flight from the abandoned shack deep in the woods had been a blur of panic and self-recrimination, and even the confrontation of those emotions gave Karis pause. Further still, she needed to guide her horse with care through the wild growth of the forest, avoiding fallen trees, stray roots, low-hanging branches and all manner of woodland obstacles to bar her progress in the absence of a paved road.

Against her own desire to press on, Karis had to stop by dusk, if only because she could no longer recognize the path ahead of her, nor her surroundings. She reasoned that a night's rest in these woods might help her to properly settle her mind and better remember how best to retrace her steps. In truth, her anxiety had grown the closer she got to her destination. More often, she imagined herself once more a prisoner of Lorath, and not the victor of their next encounter.

She felt uneasy about camping so close, but had little other choice; if she pressed on, she would likely lame her horse and be forced to leave her supplies behind in favor of completing her mission. No matter how strongly she wished to be done with this, it would serve no purpose to fail here and now, but only to shame her further and, more than likely, ensure her defeat.

Karis abstained from a fire for the night, trusting in her horse's instincts and her own anxiety to wake her in the event of any intruder, woodland creature or brigand alike. Sleep came slowly, in spite of her exhaustion, but eventually it crept upon her, stealing any hopes of rest with fitful nightmares and dark fantasies.

---*---*---*---*---*---

Lorath waited among the trees, his elven eyes granting him better sight at night than he had in daylight. Even without a fire, he could clearly pick out his quarry's features, and suppressed a grin of self-satisfaction. Karis had no idea she'd been tracked for days, that he had been following in her wake to ensure that she had heeded his message.

Not that he had doubted, not really. Her pride and honor wouldn't have let her stay away. If anything, he'd been suspicious of her comrades keeping her from trying to exact vengeance, or more annoyingly, accompanying her in her attempt to bring Lorath to justice. He didn't need such complications, not yet.

When he was certain that Karis had fallen asleep, the elf stole closer, his woodcraft keeping him silent, even to the bestial senses of her horse. He wasn't so worried, though; even if some alarm had been raised, he was close enough that he would be able to overpower the girl and do what he needed. He just liked it more this way.

He produced a syringe from a pouch at his belt, holding it carefully as he closed the distance. Karis stirred in her sleep, but didn't wake, no doubt troubled by her anxiety even in sleep. Lorath waited for her to still before finally crouching over her, plunging the needle into her neck and swiftly emptying its contents. Karis didn't so much as flinch, such was his dexterity. It only took a moment for the drug to take effect, ensuring she wouldn't be waking until it was far, far too late...