Mistress Morrigan

*Chapter Two - The Dungeon*

Chapter Two

He was treated to a rather rude awakening. The woman clad in red jerked on the chains suspending him from the ceiling, which made his wrists hurt. What was her name? He vaguely remembered... Oh, yes. Morrigan. He remembered that he had wondered what a woman was doing leading a small troop of D'Haran soldiers. But now it seemed perfectly natural. He had also wondered what was up with her outfit, although it was pleasing to the eye, it was strange. Then he remembered she, and her troop, came towards him, and so, he, of course, used his magic, and his dagger's to fend them off. He wasn't in the mood for them, but he was used to fighting people to help protect Aradia. She had been hunted all her life, because of her duties as Seeker. Aradia... His wife. His heart ached at the thought of her, lying in bed, dying. She shouldn't have died like that. She always said that she wanted to die fighting for a good and right cause, not from sickness. Her last words to him were 'I love you', and he was the last thing she ever saw in this life. He had been so choked up with tears, he hadn't said 'I love you' to her back, and that has been haunting him ever since. He always go to that meadow, to remember their wedding day, when her beautiful, dark tresses were pulled back into a loose bun, with strands falling out, and her blue eyes shown with light, the laughs we shared, and he always seem to ask himself why. Why haden't he done this, why haden't he done that? And most importantly, why he hadn't said that he loved her, too.

Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, they had came. And she had come towards him with that leather rod of hers, and had hurt him grieviously. He couldn't breathe in very deep, so he suspected she had broken at the least one rib. His wrists were cut and swollen, and his arms were tired, and aching from trying to hold his body weight up. So, he let them relax, and now it felt as if they were being pulled out of their sockets. This was nothing, though, compared to the touch of that thing. She was circling him now, looking me up and down with an odd look in her eyes. It looked like hatred. What have I done to her, he thought. She ran her hands across his chest, and around his back as she circled his, purposely pressing hard on where she had broken his ribs, and digging her nails into his flesh where the leather rod had made him bleed. He gritted his teeth, and endured it. As she did this, he took in his surroundings. He was in some sort of dungeon, with a simple, wooden table and chair pushed up against the far wall in the right hand corner. There were no windows, so he couldn't tell what time of day it was, and there were guards outside the door. She dismissed them.

She then turned to him. She smiled her beautiful, bewitching smile, still circling me.

As she circled, she whispered in his ear, "You know, I hate those with magic. I don't know why, but I just do. And, unfortunately, for you, you possess it." She glanced down at the rod hanging from her wrist by a golden chain. She took it up, and waved it back and forth in front of his eyes. "This? This, my pet, is an Agiel," He watched it warily. "This is part of what I will use to...train you. To break you. You may call me Mistress Morrigan, or simply Mistress, I do not care which." He decided, at that moment, to never let her break him. She could do whatever she wanted to him, and he would not break. He would not let her have control over him. "At the end of our time together, you will do whatever I may ask. Of your own free will." At this point, she leaned in extremely close, so close, he could feel her breath tickle his skin. "Whatever I may ask." She then leaned back out, smiling innocently at me. He glared back. She raised an eyebrow. "Whenever you do something... that displeases me, I will do this." Suddenly, his vision tunneled, and then went black with pain. He couldn't hear anything. It seemed his mind was too occupied paying attention to the pain, that it didn't really register anything else. He shook violently in his manacles. When he finally, for centuries it seemed, could see, and hear again, he saw blood on the floor, and could hear his screams of agony still echoing off of the stone walls. Morrigan, on the other hand, was smiling. She did it again, this time without so much force. As he was screaming, she yelled at him to think something positive about her. To focus on her braid, her eyes, her face, or.... other parts of her.

Madly, he groped for something in his mind that wasn't pain. The first thing he thought of were her eyes, her green eyes. For some reason they reminded him of Aradia.... No. I would not compare the two. Morrigan didn't deserve to be paired up to such a wonderful woman, he thought. But he found himself thinking of them anyway, if just to get rid of the pain. Slowly, but surely, the pain subsided. He was left panting, and sweaty, as she beamed at him.

"Very good. Do you realize what time it is? It's about an hour after the sunset." He was very glad for this, because she might let him sleep. "And so, you must bid me farewell." He just looked at her. "Goodnight!" she said in a sing-song voice, and began to walk out of the room.

"Wait, Mistress?" he called out. She glanced back. "Aren't you going to unchain me, so I can sleep?" A slow smile spread across her lovely face, and she let out a low chuckle.

"No. You will hang there until I come back in the morning. And if you even try to fall asleep..... Well, lets just say that I'm not going to let you. And if you do, it will be worse. Much worse, than anything you've ever felt before." He watched, dismayed and unbelieving, as the heavy wooden door slammed shut.