Bugman
Queen Arya
yobo
CleverFox
ThatLostDude
Vampiretwilight
Scar and Esmeralda ~ Present Day ~ Pride Rock
Esmeralda's attention was torn away from the woman who sat across from her when the door to their small room opened. She looked at the man who entered before turning back to the woman across the room. The woman was on her feet with a look in her eye that told Esmeralda the woman was terrified. "The King wishes to see you."
The Lady scuffled to the door, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. Esmeralda, however, didn't move. Her gaze fell on the solider boy, "I have no interest in seeing your King."
The man's face hardened before he stormed over to her and pulled her up to her feet by her arm, "You don't get much of a choice."
"I assume women don't get much of a choice around here, do they?" She asked angrily before she spat in his face. The man growled before he pulled out a dagger and held it to her throat as he brushed away her spit that was starting to run down his face, "I think I'm going to have fun with you, Gypsy."
Esmeralda leaned into the blade slightly, which was clearly not what he was expecting, and smiled, "But you won't get to will you. You retrieve the prisoners... You don't get to play with them."
The guard's face tightened before he lowered his blade and pushed her toward the door, "Move," He grunted which caused Esmeralda to laugh.
The three of them made their way down the hall and Esmeralda looked around as much as she could as she took in the place. She wouldn't be getting much of anywhere with her hands and feet bound the way they were but a girl could dream and this girl would most certainly plan. If handed the chance, she was not being caught again.
They entered a large room with many people standing around and one singular man sitting. She assumed him to be the King. As the woman beside her curtsied, Esmeralda stood tall, staring him down. There was a fire behind his eyes, a dangerous fire.
"Your majesty," The woman said beside her, causing Esmeralda to shake her head little. She was a prisoner; he didn't want to hear her talk. She was curious if this woman had just sealed her fate, "My name is Marguerite Dewinter."
---
Eyes still closed, even after hearing his guards coming back with the prisoners in question, Scar remained perfectly still for a few moments, quelling the anger that was bubbling up inside him at the mention of his brother's name. Thirteen years later and it was still near impossible to keep the beast inside in check; still beyond his control when his anger got the best of him and forced him into changing, still unable to remember a single thing he did or saw *while* transformed. It was perhaps for the best. When that foul sorcerer had cursed his body by bringing out the 'beast' inside he had lost any and all sense of himself, shredding his family of whom he had loved so much with a few quick swipes of his claws.
Opening up his eyes slowly, Scar looked down at his hand, palm facing up. He flexed his fingers, moving them around imitating that of a claw and watched the muscles in his forearm flex. Many lives had fallen victim to this very hand, but none weighed so heavily on him like the blood of his wife and child; despite thirteen years of pampered baths, he felt he was still unable to wash his hands of.
Perhaps it was for the best... Despite years upon years of tormenting nightmares of being forced to watch while a beast tore his family apart, he was sure that the memory of the true instance would have been far, far worse.
Bored with watching his hand, Scar lifted his head up to find two girls standing before him, brought by his soldier as he had asked. Hefting himself back up from the settee, he walked over to them, his eyes flashing dangerously at the girl who spoke so casually to him. With a striking motion, the back of his hand was brought across her face with such a force that she was forced to the floor at his feet.
"Curb your tongue, whore. Now *get up*!"
Marguerite scrambled back to her feet, whatever amount of light she was holding in her completely gone and in its wake, she showed nothing but fear. Her hand itched to touch her now bleeding lip, but pushed her hand back down to her side afraid of even blinking without even so much as his permission. Scar kept his dark eyes trained on her, seeming to size her up. His hand went out to hold her chin, turning her neck this way and that, squinting his eyes a bit. He simply shook his head a bit, releasing her chin from his hold, clear disappointment written on his face as he gestured over to one of the soldiers.
"Put her with the other slave girls; one third the rations. Her face is too full and her hips too narrow..."
Nodding, the soldier took hold of Marguerite and led her away, causing Scar's eyes to happen on the second female brought to him. His expression lightened somewhat, taking in her feminine features, his eyes not at all subtly sizing her up.
"A Gypsy... now isn't this a surprise?" He asked out loud, more to himself than anyone.
He put a finger to his lips, as if in deep thought, crossing his other arm across his chest tucking his hand underneath his armpit, continuing his examination before nodding his head up and down a bit. "You can dance?" He asked.
---
Esmeralda watched as he inspected his hand for some time. This King was clearly insane, although that could be gathered from his stealing of women and league of slaves. She sighed slightly as he rose and walked to Marguerite only to slap the girl with such force that her small frame collapsed to the ground. Esmeralda did her best not to flinch at the sudden show of aggression. She supposed that she should not have expected any less when she had already been preparing herself for the 'worse'. When he turned away from Marguerite Esmeralda was quite sure that she was staring in the eyes of the 'worse'. As he looked her over, she took the time to do the same. He was huge and it was clear from the state of Marguerite's lip that it wasn't all just show.
She pressed her lips together as he spoke aloud. His voice was rather deep, threatening, and was far more fear inducing now than when it was directed at Marguerite, even if he had more anger behind it then. Maybe it played into the way he was looking at her. She had seen men look at her like this before but she was always in a far more favourable position. She was free to do as she wished and could normally nab their knife, if they had one, before they could really try anything. She had always had the option to run. Now, she was truly trapped. She rose her chin in a small act of defiance when he asked about her dancing, "I can," She said simply and coldly, "But not like this," She rose her wrists showing off the rope wrapped tightly around them, "And I dance for money. Not your pleasure."
She was almost certain that in her words she had also just sealed her own fate. She wasn't trying to impress him or hide her displeasure in being in his presence. Her candid response could get her killed or physically harmed by a man who had anger in his heart, an anger that practically radiated off of him.
She lowered her arms back to her lap and stared him in the eye, "Are you going to pay?"
---
Scar dropped his hands back to his sides, reaching one hand out to close his hand around the throat of the Gypsy, applying just enough pressure to make breathing a slight bit more difficult. His face remained the same, however, no new wave of anger at her words, or a look of annoyance; instead, he spread his lips into a wide smile, keeping his dark eyes on hers.
"You dance for your life." He corrected her quietly before forcefully pushing her back out of his grip. Eyes leaving hers, he motioned over to the key guard and had her shackles removed while Scar turned his back and headed back to the settee, stopping at the servant who had his wine along the way. The servant girl poured him another goblet, which Scar took and drank almost immediately, attempting to quench his thirst. Once finished and handing the goblet back to the servant girl, Scar turned his attention back to the Gypsy, walking over to the settee.
"Dance." He instructed and sat himself back down.
---
Esmeralda did her best not to let her face change any when he wrapped his hand around her throat. She couldn't help but let her mouth hang open slightly to make it easier for her breath as he made it difficult. She stumbled slightly when he pushed her away from him and glared daggers into his back when he wasn't looking. She pulled her hands away from the guard after he removed her shackles and rubbed her wrists slightly. At this point, she just wanted to turn and run but she couldn't guarantee that she could get away. She'd get lost in the halls and be caught in no time.
When he turned his attention back to her and ordered her to dance, she made a small face. Orders… that was all she was getting today. People telling her to do whatever was in their best interest. She took a deep breath before she slowly rose her hands over her head, crossing them at the wrists. She began to dance slowly, just her arms moving but it did not take long for the rest of her to begin to move. Her hands went to her skirts, picking them up as she kicked and stomped. Her bracelets clinked all the while, adding an abstract kind of music to the silence of the room. She couldn't stand the quiet much longer before she began to sing quietly in a language that was most likely lost to the people in the room who did not share her upbringings. She moved and she danced and when things got more sultry, large movements of the hips or the shaking of her shoulders, she looked away from Scar and most of the other inhabitants of the room, choosing to stare at a blank wall over another human face. Ultimately, Esmeralda allowed herself to enjoy the dance and song all the same. She might not have wanted to dance for this man or these people but if she was going to be forced to, she might as well enjoy herself. He wasn't going to break her or scare her. This was just another performance in the streets. It was just a slow day where no one gave her change.
She finally brought the dance to a close and for the first time since it started, she looked at Scar. She didn't say anything as her chest rose and fell with her quick breathing. She had no words for him as she rose her chin again her defiance showing through again.
---
Something that resembled amusement was written on Scar's otherwise stone-like features as he watched the Gypsy girl dance in front of him. Relaxing back into the settee with his arms draped on its back once again he simply sat and watched. Though amused, his dark eyes were constantly looking for flaws, anything that would render her incapable of becoming one of his many dancers, but the longer she danced, the more he was enjoying himself; forgetting all about Sarabi who had been chained up to his bed for his later use. When the Gypsy girl had finished, a slight smile split his lips as he simply just looked back at her.
"It's been quite some time since I've seen a woman move for me like that." He complimented. "Perhaps you can teach my dancers a thing or two on pleasing their king?" He raised an arm and snapped his fingers, giving the order for the guards to return the shackles to her wrists and new ones to her feet.
---
The cool feeling of metal wrapped around Esmeralda's wrists and ankles again. She stared at him after his twisted compliment. She bit her tongue wanting to say that she didn't dance for him that she had danced for herself, he had merely told her to move. However, she knew saying this could cause great risk to her well-being if she did so. He had already showed her once that he would not take her defiance by choking her; she did not wish to see how he might demonstrate it again. It was his question that toked the fire in her. She stood tall despite the chains on her hands weighing her down, "I will not," She said, looking him in the eye, "My dances are for Gypsies. You learn them from birth or you do not learn them at all."
This wasn't true. People had joined the Romani, after living lives that were viewed as normal to the mass majority, learnt the steps, and joined the dancing. There was no way though that she was going to teach a bunch of captives traditional Romani dances just to please a sadistic king. She held her hands in front of herself, "If you wish to see my dancing... You'll just have to keep me alive."
She supposed that was one way to ensure her safety. So long as he enjoyed her performances, he would not want to kill her... That being said, it didn't mean that he wouldn't...
---
Scar's wide smile turned into a twisted smirk, a light huff almost considered a chuckle coming out in his throat as he removed himself from the settee and stood up tall once again. Crossing the room back to her, knowing there was very little she could do now that she was bound again, he reached a hand out to grasp her chin roughly with his thumb and jerked her head to the side, forcing her to crane her neck to him.
"You've got fire..." He observed, jerking her head in the other direction as he let his eyes settle on the angle of her neck and the muscles hidden there beneath the skin. Releasing his hand from her chin then to allow her free motion of her own neck, Scar turned his head and nodded over to the direction of the guard who had control over the keys to her shackles. "Let's see if we can't amend that." Scar finished without even so much as looking back at the Gypsy, instead keeping his eyes on the guard that seemed to be getting the idea of what was on his King's mind. "Perhaps after a good lashing you'll be more compliant." Finally looking back at her, he raised his arm once again to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear in what would have been an intimate gesture if it weren't for the man behind it. "It pains me to have to mutilate your body in this way but you leave me no choice. I am your King, and you will remember your place in my presence."
The soldier had reached them by this time and grabbed onto Esmerelda's forearm, forcefully pulling on her to have her follow.
---
Esmeralda wished to risk a small step back as Scar walked up to her. He didn't seem angry... amused almost but that seemed to scare her more. Something about an insane man finding amusement struck an unnerving cord in her. She stood her ground all the same; the step wasn't going to stop him advancing. She swallowed as he took hold of her chin and stared up at him before he forced her to turn her head. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and was utterly confused at what it was he was looking at. She said nothing to him as he turned her head the other way without tenderness or warning. She moved her head back slowly when he released her chin, taking time to be gentle to her neck in ways that he had not been. She looked up at him as he spoke, his eyes elsewhere in the room and her heart felt as though it stopped when he spoke of lashing.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and he was enjoying this. No matter the words that came out of his mouth about it being difficult, he was enjoying this! She winced as he touched her cheek, revolted entirely by him. She kept her eyes on him as the man grabbed her arm and pulled her away. It wasn't until they came to a standstill that she looked away from him. Esmeralda was forced to her knees and was held as another soldier removed one of her wrists from her chains before wrapping her arms around the pole in front of her and trapping her hand in the metal once more.
Her breathing picked up when she felt cold fingers against her back before the sound of cloth ripping filled her ears as her dress hung loosely at her sides. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to keep calm but she could not help but cry out as the whip cut into her skin. She wanted to be strong to not make a sound through the torture but it hurt. It brought tears to her eyes as the man ruthlessly bore down on her with no sign of stopping. After sometime, she managed to get her wits about her, her back actually numbing to the stinging of the open wounds and searing of flesh being ripped. She tightened her hands into fists, the fire in her erupted with each lash; she was more and more infuriated with what Scar thought it was in his right to do. She took a deep breath, "I will not teach them," She yelled before the whip came down again and caused her to grunt, "I will not teach them," She said again and again, each time the whip was pulled back she'd yell before it cracked down again and again.
---
From behind her, Scar let out a frustrated growl as he stormed over to the soldier in control of the whip. Despite her bare backside being red, bloodied, and raw against her darkened skin it wasn't enough. She refused to give. Grabbing the whip from the soldier and forcefully shoving the man aside, Scar stooped down behind her, balancing himself on the balls of his feet with his legs bent in order to bend his neck forward and reach his lips to her ear.
"Shall we play a guessing game? Hmm?" He asked, using his free hand to brush her raven locks to the side so that her neck was no longer hidden from him. With her hair out of the way, he brought his hand back to her shoulder, fingertips dancing across her neck as he did with such a light touch he could barely feel her skin under his calloused hand. "How many strikes, by *my* hand, before you black out?" He kept his voice low in an almost whisper, his tone even and collected despite the nature of his words. "If you're wrong, and when you wake, we will play again... and again... and again until you get it right by sheer luck. I will not hold back, not like Banzai over there who still holds onto a shred of empathy for some of my slaves."
He removed himself then from their close proximity and stood up tall, slapping the end of the whip into his outstretched hand forcing the leather to wrap around it a few times.
"Now, give me a number *Gypsy*."
---
Esmeralda's entire body tensed as she felt Scar move alongside her before he spoke softly in her ear. She looked at him from the corner of her eye as he pushed the hair away from her neck, her jaw clenched all the while. Her breathing quickened, her chest pressing against the now loose fabric of the shredded cloth she once called a dress. Her heart was pounding her chest, which she could assume was not any good for her back as it pumped the blood out of her wounds. When he moved away from her, she wiped her wet cheek on her shoulder and licked her dry lips, her body relaxing ever so slightly. When he asked for a number she hesitated before speaking, "I will not play your game, *Your Majesty*," She said with a sharpness to her tone.
She stared straight ahead at the post in front of her, trying to breathe through the sting pain, "Your kind have toyed with the Gypsies and I for long enough... I will *not* willingly entertain you’re sick and twisted amusement," She looked over her shoulder as best she could, a fire burning behind her wet tear filled eyes, "You are a monster."
---
Somehow, through the bitter bite of the Gypsy's words, Scar found amusement. Scoffing lightly he removed the leather strip from around his hand he used his wrist to flick the whip a bit to get it into a straight line.
"You won't play my game, but I will." He responded coldly before bringing his strong arm back and with the power of an Elite Guard Captain brought the whip down on her back, the force nearly ten-fold as the soldier who had been given the task of whipping her in the first place.
"One."
Scar pulled his hand back, watching a fresh wave of blood staining her skin from torn gash across her back and brought the whip back down on her again, hitting the same exact spot.
"Two..."
---
Blood rushed in Esmeralda's ears as the King spoke. She took a deep breath and prepared herself, she considered this all just a small break from the torment that he wished against her. She tightened her hands into fists and prepared herself. However, nothing could have prepared her for the pain that erupted through her back causing her to scream against her wishes. She wanted to be strong against him. She wanted to stare him down and hold her ground. That was not going to happen and she knew it as the whip bore down on her again with horrid precision causing her to cry out again and in a moment of weakness between stroke, even whimper.
She did not last long before spots appeared in her eyes and a ringing tore through her ears. She could not imagining standing as kneeling in front of him caused her to wobble and shake until her body could no long handle anymore. She did not go far as she slumped against the pillar and onto her side. The blood from her back slowly trickled down and onto the floor.
---
Watching the Gypsy finally slump to the floor, a satisfied smirk came across his lips as he handed over the bloodied whip to a guard. Tilting his neck slightly one way and then another, he just looked down at the unconscious girl and shook his head, watching the blood pool down onto the marble floor beneath her.
"Get this place cleaned up." He barked to a guard, turning his back on the girl and began to head towards the double doors that would lead him out of the room. "Make sure she gets new clothes to match the others... dark blue I think and then put her with the others. Keep a guard on her at all times and alert me when she wakes."
"Sir!" The guard bowed quickly and went to collect the girl. Scar pushed open the doors and walked briskly through the corridor towards his bed chambers. The torture wouldn't stop at the Gypsy girl.