Author's Note:
Again, content warning for abuse/sexual assault being framed as an emotional bonding experience (between the abuser and abusee).
They found Kyla's clothes and throwing knives inside the cottage. Once dressed, Sune pressed her to find the beast's trail. The paladin would not be denied her quarry.
Kyla picked her way through the woods. She barely spoke -- her experience at the hands of the beast haunted her. Even now, the movement of her body occasionally fell into the still-familiar pattern of that slow strut. She could feel Sune's eyes upon her back, silently judging. Kyla shivered.
Fortunately, the beast had made little to no attempt to hide its passage as it escaped with Brienne. Following the path was relatively easy. Kyla led Sune south, far away from the well-trodden roads and through deeply tangled groves.
The trail ended on the side of a hill at a mound of moss and dirt. The sun was directly overhead. Somewhere far off, a cicada hissed and chirped.
"Well?"
Kyla nudged the mound. It shifted, revealing it to be a net cleverly woven with foliage. It hid a tunnel leading down into the earth.
Sune stepped forward. "Let's get moving."
The paladin stepped past Kyla. When she did not follow, Sune turned and scowled.
Kyla stared at the hole, not making eye contact. Her thoughts turned to the beast -- what it had done to her. What it had said to her. Another shiver rolled through her, from her toes up to her nape.
"I think... I think this might be a mistake."
"What?"
Kyla swallowed. She lifted her eyes up to Sune. "This creature... You didn't tell us we were hunting an urog. I don't think we can defeat it ourselves. We need help."
Sune's reply was flat and automatic: "Brienne needs our help."
Frustration surged in Kyla's chest: "I know that. Better than you," she snapped. "And if that's what we're here to do -- to save her -- I'm willing to... To take this risk. But I'm not going down there with you if this is just about... Killing some beast, earning glory."
Something fierce and terrifying flashed across Sune's face. Her sword flashed with radiance; the fire touched her eyes. For a moment, her expression was one of pure rage.
The moment passed. Her expression softened. She stepped forward and touched Kyla's shoulder. Kyla flinched, but did not pull away.
"This is not about glory," Sune told her. "This is about saving Brienne."
Kyla looked into Sune's eyes. She sighed and nodded.
Together, they ventured into the darkness below.
"...mmrrhh..."
Brienne trembled and moaned. The beast had bound her, just as he had Kyla -- arms gripped by a sleeve behind her, with her mouth gagged and the upper half of her face hooded. Her long, delicate ears jutted out from beneath the leather, with her copper tresses spilling down in a tail pulled through a hole. Even if she was not blinded by the hood, it was far too dark for her to see -- but this did not stop her from imagining how she looked. Pale and shapely, bound like some animal.
She suppressed another moan. Then she felt a rough slap against her buttocks and stumbled forward.
Brienne had no way of knowing how Kyla had faired under this treatment, but she could not imagine the defiant rogue doing worse than her. Since being drugged and violated, Brienne had felt some part of her melt -- as if the portion of her mind responsible for self-determination had been muzzled. Once bound, she had realized that she was unconsciously adopting the gait that Kyla had demonstrated when they found her outside the cottage -- as if her body instinctively hoped this would please her captor.
What was worse was his reaction: his immense hands had immediately dropped down to the soft padding of her buttocks, sinking into either cheek. He had then guided her steps with gropes and swats -- silently correcting her little slut-strut.
She shuddered. Another slap, another moan. Was she truly this weak...?
She wanted to blame it on the drug, but she knew that wasn't the whole truth. Some hidden part of her responded to this -- squirmed at the very thought of it. To be treated not only as an animal, but a precious one. To be reduced to someone's thing -- a thing that was desired and adored. Someone's precious bauble. Someone's treasure.
Then there was her relentless curiosity -- the part of her mind that thirsted for knowledge. He was clearly far more intelligent than they'd given him credit for -- he could speak! Where did he come from? How long had he been in these woods? How many of his kind remained? How did the strange drug he used on them work -- had he brewed it himself?
The stones she walked upon subtly changed. She felt a soft breeze stir across her naked breasts along with the warm glow of the sun. They were emerging from the cavern. Her foot brushed across an oddly shaped stone -- she immediately recalled the ruins they had seen near the cottage. Were these the same?
A tiny flutter of indignation rose up inside her chest. She'd be able to do so much more for him learning about those ruins than just being tied and led around like this...!
That thought alone made her flush with humiliation. Why did she even think about that? About helping him...?!
They stepped inside. Another cottage? The floor was stone, here; she smelled oil and charcoal. It occurred to her that he likely had many stashes here in the woods. Places like the cave, where he had stored supplies.
He squeezed her haunches and guided her up to a stone table. She felt the edge make light contact with her hips. Spreading his fingers across her shoulders, he leaned her forward until her bare breasts flattened to the cool stone.
