A Bargain Made: A House Fallen Ch. 04

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A noblewoman seeks revenge against those who threatened her.
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Awareness came in pieces.

First, there was simply the sense of self. She had emerged from the blackness. Her heart beat strongly in her chest. She was not dead and not in any real discomfort, so she took a moment to relish that and focused on breathing in the damp air, still chilled despite the fact the flicker of torches and lamps teased her eyelids. She could smell the sea, so she knew she was still near where she started on the south side of the city.

Next came the acute awareness of her body as a whole. She was fully nude, her nipples firm in the chill. Her arms were over her head in a 'v,' cuffed to heavy chains that were anchored firmly to the ceiling. She was going nowhere until whoever it was decided to let her go. Then there was the collar around her neck. It felt like a thin metal and fit snugly, but not so that it threatened to impede breathing. The fear of the unknown led her to think of the sensation as fingers at her throat.

Then came memory. She was in the markets in the south quarter of the city shopping for some odds and ends for the house. Good deals could be had and Mistress had an affection for the handmade quilts from the merchants there. The now-captive had arranged for delivery of several and moved on to the rest of her list when someone brushed her. She turned to her left to see one of the urchins that claimed that part of the city. She didn't remember his face specifically, but, to be fair, she hardly looked. He was as unkempt, threadbare, and dirty as too many in the quarter. He'd brushed her hand so quickly and lightly that, if not for where she found herself now, she probably would never have paid it any mind. Not long after that came the blackness.

Feeling stronger and knowing that she had no hope of getting anywhere without knowing her surroundings, she opened her eyes, which was easier than she thought it would be. She'd expected the lids to be somewhat more leaden given how groggy she felt in those first moments.

She looked around the room. It was indeed well lit, showing her the limestone that surrounded her, but sparsely furnished. All that she could see was a table that had her shoes paired next to her clothes that were neatly folded. Sitting on that table with his hands on his knees and a grin on his face was someone she knew of, but little more. {Deres} "Where am I?"

"Where I need you to be," he told her. "I do commend you though, you seem very bright, Cassea. You surveyed yourself and your surroundings before opening your eyes and revealing yourself that way. Many other women would have simply started screaming and so would more men than would dare admit it."

She looked him over. From broad chest to powerful limbs, he didn't need height to be imposing, but he carried it casually even now. She noted that they even looked similar, both with dark hair and blue eyes. At first glance they could be related, but the idea that she could be mistaken for the kin of some wretch from the south quarter was upsetting no end. "What good would screaming do?"

"Absolutely none. You could scream until your voice were gone and you could scream with people right outside the door and no one would hear you at all."

She clearly puzzled over his last words, but said nothing more.

"I commend you too in not being particularly bothered by the nudity and the chaining and all that."

Cassea sounded genuinely indifferent, "It's done. Begging for my clothes would be as foolish and pointless as screaming or begging you to let me go. Since it is done, you may as well tell me what you think."

"You should be proud of every inch, honestly. No one would expect a body so...athletic under those clothes. Lovely thighs, toned belly, and I could probably bounce a coin off that backside. I'm not sure how you run a house and have the time to maintain it."

"Enjoy looking. It'll just be another thing you pay for."

He hopped off the table, standing before her, and sounding almost bored with what was coming, but willing to acquiesce to the demands of the situation. "This is the part where you tell me people will be looking for you. My answer to that is, your shopping errands are being completed while we're here together, and the goods will be delivered. So, to anyone that might want to look for you, it will look like you did your job and then decided to spend the rest of our time together on whatever leisure activities you have, like keeping that body firm, for example."

He gave her an impish grin, "By the time anyone is *really* worried enough to start looking for you, there won't be anything to worry about because you'll be back running the house and no one will be the wiser."

She snorted, taking a moment to imagine herself biting through the soft tissue of his throat. "Where you think I'll tell exactly no one of my kidnapping and rape at the hands of General Jaye's pet?"

He put both hands to his heart as though mortally wounded, "I've been called far worse than that, both before I left Erette and since I've returned. You don't even get points for effort. But, to put your mind at ease, no, you won't tell anyone what has happened here. You won't even want to."

She didn't believe it for a second, "Of course I won't," she said as though agreeing with the crazy person with a weapon in order to avoid a fight.

He touched her cheek just so see her reaction and was pleased she didn't flinch. This woman was strong-willed and, in that way, not unlike his beloved Neral. He liked that a lot, not for the least of reasons being that what would happen later would be all the sweeter for it. {All things in their own time}, he thought. "You know who I am?"

She jerked in annoyance, the chains rattling in response, "As if you don't know you have been the talk of the Houses for months." She took on a more formal tone, as a crier might if reading off his accomplishments, "Deres Valtise, pauper and orphan of the south quarter who ran away to find his fortune and his name, returns after a life who-knows-where to tend the sick and wounded. Almost immediately, he weds so far above his class that, if the general had any self-respect, she wouldn't have him lick her boots clean, much less warm her bed."

He smiled, "It has such a nice rhythm and cadence when you say it that way. Do you write poetry?"

That he was seemingly imperturbable made the whole situation that much more difficult, but perhaps something else could reach him, "You've started a war, you know. In taking me for even a minute you've invited my master's House to war with yours. Do you really think you, in your position, a position that entirely depends on *her* position, can afford such a thing?"

He sighed at this well-trodden bit. "Let me guess, if I let you go, you will speak to no one of it and it will be as though none of it happened?"

"Pfft...you will pay me well and regularly for my silence because that will be cheaper in treasure and less costly in blood than any conflict and it's certainly less a burden on you than your House's banishment."

He laughed a belly laugh that took his breath away as it echoed through the room, Deres pacing as he worked it out. "Oh, I really do like you, girl. You are where you are and I am where I am and you still have the iron in your spine to think that I'm just going to pay you to let you go."

"What choice do you have?"

"We haven't even started yet, dear." He scratched at his jaw and paced her again, "You know what interests me? We've been here a bit now, you and I. We've sparred and that's been fun, but you wake up here and you see me...and ask where you are, but not why you're here. Why would that be? Would it be that you know why?"

He enjoyed her silence.

"I think you know exactly why. Here's what I know: a war has already started between Houses and it was your master that started it. Prince Kudan of the Kressin is nursing along a centuries old grudge, or maybe he's just looking to cause trouble and take advantage of whatever mayhem ensues. He wants to strike fear into the heart of Erette, but he can't do it all by himself. He needs a guild mage to pull it off and one from closer to Erette is best because the greater the distance from Kudan, the better."

"Who knows how the got into contact? Maybe one of your master's aides likes the courtesans from Kressin and messages passed. Maybe they crossed paths at some ambassadorial function; it doesn't matter. What does matter is that, through links in a chain, Kudan and Vesik join forces and it's Vesik that contacts the guild first, though at least one soul from Kressin met with the guild because he is who the mage dealt with. In the end though, Kudan gets his revenge, and Vesik maybe, just maybe, ascends to the throne of Erette. Even if he doesn't, the House of Jaye is gone and he is a *lot* more powerful."

"In order to make all this work though, money goes back and forth and, at one point, on a gray beach on a cloudy day, because Kudan just has to see where his money goes, he spies you picking up the gold."

Cassea was good. Had her eyes not bulged ever so slightly at being caught out personally, her face would have betrayed nothing at all.

"But you did run gold at least once for a failed plot against arguably your entire kingdom and certainly my House. So, when you wake up here, you don't have to ask why."

Her jaw tightened as she studied him, trying by force of will to determine how much he could prove simply by studying his face, "*If* such a thing were true, what could I tell you that you don't already know?"

"You're going to confirm it and you're going to tell me how involved the family you serve really was."

"Am I?"

"Then you're going to help with a plan of mine."

She nodded, "Of course I will, just as soon as I can flap my arms and fly away from here." Cassea worked her jaw back and forth for a moment before spitting in his face. "Rape, torture, or kill me, but, if you're going to rape me, I'd prefer you killed me first. I'd rather not live with being mounted by a creature from the dregs. But, whatever it is, get on with it."

He wiped the saliva from his face with his sleeve without missing a beat. "That sounds fine to me." He touched his forefinger against the collar, triggering a flash of electric heat that flowed through Cassea, from head to toe and back again before dissipating entirely.

She looked around in wonder as the feeling took her and when it was gone she actually seemed pleased. "Ohhhhh, you are going to burn, mage. When this is over, I am going to scream 'forbidden magics' to the heavens and you will burn for it, and I'll throw wood onto the pile and laugh."

He shrugged. "After we're done, you'll be able to tell anyone anything you want. But, first, what's your name?"

She was taken aback by the seeming non-sequitur. "What?"

"I know your name. You know I know your name, so why don't you just tell me?"

"Fuck you."

"Perhaps later. What's your name?"

Her voice dripped with contempt, "Is that why I'm here? You need a real woman? You must know we all talk about her. That's a cold bitch, that Neral Jaye. How long can you fuck her without the frostbite setting in? The poor guttersnipe has to fuck that frozen cunt to have a warm bed. Is that all you do, Deres? Does she have you sucking cocks while she watches just to amuse her? How many get you a hot meal?"

He brushed her cheek and watched with satisfaction as she flinched and turned her head away. The veneer was slipping. He knew that look. It was the same look that so many of the upper classes gave him in streets as a boy when he would beg for money to eat. Many wouldn't even look at him as they tossed coins, quick to be away from them while still being able to tell themselves they were kind to the poor child. Later, that revulsion was useful for picking their pockets. How to reach her was in her flinch and in her words. She projected her own fear and revulsion onto others in the guise of insult as so many did.

He moved behind her, kissing up her shoulders, licking ahead with the tip of his tongue before planting another. "Maybe we should fuck. Do you know how many upper-class souls come here to play? Have you ever tried?"

"I'd have myself sewn shut first."

He touched her back and all her muscles tightened in response as she tried to worm away. "They come to us because we're more animal than they will ever be with their having to measure each step they take by what other people will see. Sex is an animal act, and they come to the animals that know how to fuck. Maybe I should start a line of men to take you before you go." He touched her firm ass and squeezed as he kissed, moving to her left shoulder, "You'd love it. In twenty minutes you'd be screaming for more.

"We're potent, too. You would end up bred by some merchant sailor, or blacksmith, or carpenter. That perfect body will be ruined, but when you think of it, how much heat will be mixed in with the shame; house mistress of House Vesik bred by some southerner with dirt under his nails and a throbbing animal cock."

"Die."

Deres rested his chin on her shoulder as he forced his hand between her legs, "Do you hate me, Cassea?"

"Of course I haaaaaaaaaa..."

The world dissolved for her as she convulsed as an unstoppable wave of pleasure burst from the center of her being, wracked her body, and showered his hand and her thighs in her juices. The heat would ebb for a moment and then explode through her once again, pulling another scream from her lungs. When it faded finally, the stars left Cassea's vision as she struggled to pick her head up from its resting place, her chin on her chest. Words hurt as they departed her near raw throat, "What did you...do to me?"

Her head finally steadied on her neck as he came to face her again, looking the picture of innocence. "I did nothing, Cassea. You did that to you. That was your reward. I asked you a question, you answered honestly, and that was your reward."

His fingertips began running trails over her belly. "I am a man that likes to offer choices whenever possible, so, you can answer and reward yourself or not. Now, I suppose you're thinking that all you have to do keep your mouth shut and hold out until someone comes looking for you. That's actually true, I suppose." He stepped back, examining something that only he could see.

Cassea opened her mouth to respond, closing it almost at once. {I won't give him the satisfaction. I'll hang here until the sun goes cold, but I won't betray my master and my House.}

"It would be so boring to talk to myself though, so, what's your name?"

Her jaw set and she was was determined to say nothing, and, for several seconds she was successful. Then, the room started to orbit her, faster and faster until she had to shut her eyes to get even a slight reprieve from the bodily turmoil caused by the motion. Her stomach turned and twisted in her body making her heave. She opened her mouth to vomit, but nothing would come out. Time dragged for her as the sickness took her, certain she would die, and part of her hoping she might.

"Forget I asked."

In less than the space of a breath, the room rooted itself to the ground again and the retching nausea passed as though it had never been. She still stared at him as before, trying to will him dead, but there was fear as well.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "You won't die. It'll feel that way, no matter how much worse it gets, but you won't die and nothing will be permanent. All you have to do is hold out for as long as I can afford to keep you. Truthfully, if you can, you will deserve your freedom."

{Worse? In the name of the Goddess, how could that get worse?} She looked at him, not wanting to look pleading, but she knew what was coming and dreaded it.

"What's your name?"

She swallowed hard, closed her eyes and waited. Seconds passed and the nauseating merry-go-round began once again. Her stomach muscles clenched as she gasped and heaved. She heard the question again and the spinning seemed to increase. She tried staying as still as possible for, if she moved, the air around her cut through the cold sweat like blades of ice. {Shut up. Goddess, shut up.} His voice, even at a whisper, thundered through her ears.

She didn't know how much time had passed. In one sense she was so focused on enduring that she didn't notice while, on another level she was keenly aware of it dragging forward at a snail's pace. For her it was just another symptom of the near painful disorientation. She was so disconnected in fact, that she was barely aware that with one of her heaving breaths, "Cassea Voss," escaped her lips.

Like a candle snuffed, she was taken from the pits of misery to heights of ecstasy. The illness now simply gone, she gave herself to the joy in her body that every nerve sang its own song of. When she came back to the now, he watched her with satisfaction while she looked at him with burning hatred, hatred for what he was, hatred that the Goddess could grant power like he had to one so lowly, hatred for the fact that someone like him now had any status in the world at all, even if he did only get it by marrying beyond his station.

And hatred for herself most of all because, in the pit of her soul, she knew he had already won, and she knew he could see it.

He closed in upon her and another wave of shame swept her because she didn't recoil. Her body registered him as responsible for pleasure enough to drive her insane and her legs parted for his fingers on their own, happily betraying her. He deftly rolled his fingers over her clit in nearly the same way she did when she loved herself in the dark. Her pussy was drenched in her own cream and she held her breath to feel it before releasing slowly.

"What's your name?"

She mustered what she had left to fight with, resisting the next wave of sick, but, added to it now was this spot of pleasure between her legs that was imprisoned by the nausea and general ill. It teased and promised and pushed against an intangible barrier she knew was untouchable while she resisted. She looked down to see his hand there, moving in hypnotic circles. Time lost meaning again, but she somehow knew far less had gone by than last time. "My name is Cassea Voss."

She threw her head back, spread her legs and let the dam crumble. She started up at the ceiling thinking how beautiful the stone work was. Everything was beautiful.

He watched her ride it out, slowing his ministrations, savoring the look on her face. She really was stunning, and, even now, so spirited. "Every time you speak the truth, your reward will feel just this good. You won't tire or dry." The last word came with a wicked smile.

She took a deep, resigned breath. "I still hate you."

"You hate me and yet you're mine and you know it. Doesn't hating me make it better though?"

"Yes." She humped against his fingers like a street whore and surrendered yet again. When she came back this time, a giddy laugh came with awareness.

"Good girl, Cassea." His tone dripped condescension and dominance. Ordinarily that tone from anyone but her employers would have gotten them a mouth full of shattered teeth, but she couldn't muster much beyond annoyance.

"Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?"

There was horror at the betrayal of herself and her House. There was hatred of him and the way in which he had torn her asunder. There was the feeling of heady anticipation between her legs that came with her response, "Yes."

The happy stars appeared in her eyes again and never left as she answered question after question, telling him how Lord Vesik had done all he could to carry the plot forward with the help of Cassea and his daughter Sere. She told him how Lady Vesik had spoken against it over and over, fearing the reprisals that could come both with it's success and failure, but, ultimately had not intervened to stop it. She told him all he asked, and offered more just to get him to perhaps ask more questions.

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