The Demon Queen

"Jonathan Jonathan Jonathan." Pokala chuckled, once, but it died away quickly, snuffed by the weight of the words following. "Of all the fates I wished to befall you, you and the Valley, this was not it. Not at all." Sighing, she stepped side to side, slowly pacing as her claw wings stretched out behind her, flexing in and out in sync with her slow steps.

"... I had nowhere else to go, Pokala."

That brought her to a stop. She turned, looked at him, and her wings settled, hooking tight to her back as she stepped in closer again, now only two feet in front of him. From so close, he could clearly see the enormous mask wasn't a mask at all, but genuinely was her face. No eyes, no mouth, no nose, just a smooth T-shape of black, with lines cut into it that highlighted the shape of its chin, and where its upper sides morphed into colossal horns. The several glowing amber dots on her forehead, and where eyes should have been, lit up his face and body somewhat, and he squinted as they contrasted against the darkness around her.

"Very well," she said. "Swear it."

He ground his teeth until he could hear them, but nodded. "I swear upon Janavere's name that I, Jonathan Tearmire, Paladin and Wall Knight of Tanderous, will honor this agreement."

She laughed, though it lacked the hearty joy he'd expected. "Humans. The lengths you must go to simply give weight to your words."

"And you are a demon, who is bound to their word, absolutely."

Nodding, she stepped back, and turned, pointing an arm toward her castle of stone and glowing amber crystals. The hundreds of demons behind her stepped aside, a parting sea of claws, flesh, red skin, black scales, and glowing amber eyes.

"I will honor our agreement, Jonathan Tearmire. Your knights are given sanctuary, from now until their departure, a departure they must choose to commit. They will be cared for to the utmost of our ability. And you, Paladin of Janavere, are mine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The castle was a strange place. It was clear it wasn't built, so much as carved, but whoever had carved it had made sure to do it right. Hallways, massive, walls smooth and floors flat, spilled out before him and his knights in a myriad of directions from the grand chamber. He stared up at a dangling crystal that lit the chamber, and then toward a throne, also carved out of the black stone. Beautiful, a flowing seat with horns and spikes erupting outward to the sides, each peppered with amber crystals that must have been found in the rock as it was sculpted.

They were standing in work that would have taken decades, assuming a hundred hands worked at it day and night. It was beautiful, the castle, the chamber, the walls with grooves carved around more crystals, all of it. Far too beautiful for a nest of demons.

"Who made all of this?" Samantha said, gesturing around the enormous room.

"My mother did, several hundred years ago." Pokala, sitting upon her throne, gestured with a sweeping arm to the giant walls that surrounded them. "We live long lives, us of the royal blood."

Samantha snorted, hand upon the hilt of her sword as she slowly turned around. "Where is she now?"

"Dead. It is the way of the royal blood, to die at the hands of their progeny. Always three daughters, always to the eventual death of our dear mother." She sat with one leg folded over the other at the thigh, lightly bouncing at the knee, and her hands sat upon the throne arms, claws tapping the stone.

"Then where are your siblings?" Eric stepped up beside Samantha, hand also on his hilt. Jon would scold them later, but then it wasn't like the demons wouldn't possibly betray Pokala, considering what Vekaal attempted earlier. Some measures of self defense were understandable.

"In other parts of the world."

"Killing humans," Samantha said, snarling.

"You do not understand my kind, knight. We are not the Beizites. Now cease your ignorant ramblings." The queen stepped off her throne, and walked down toward the knights. They'd left their mounts outside, but all of them had their armor — without helmet — and swords and shields. Jon had picked his up again upon leaving the swarming army outside, simply to keep it out of their hands.

Samantha wasn't silenced so easily. "You're demons. What's there to understand?"

"Far more than your simple mind could appreciate." Sighing, Pokala stepped up to the two demons that had followed her into the grand chamber. Each one was enormous, twelve-foot-tall giants of muscle and strength. With the faces of dragons, and tails to match, the colossal brutes would have taken multiple knights to bring down. They looked strangely beautiful, majestic beasts with handsome features, amber red along the underside of their jaws, their stomachs, and down to the underside of their long, thick tails, while the rest of them was covered in the almost shining black scales and black spikes. Pokala's personal guards, perhaps. Did she even need personal guards?

"What're they for?" Eric said.

"They are your bodyguards until you decide to leave. They will escort the twelve of you into the upper quarters of my castle, where spare rooms kept for others of my bloodline have slept before; they are empty. You may use the rooms in the meantime."

Jon raised a brow. An unwanted complication, maybe. "How often do they visit? Others of your bloodline, I mean."

"Once every thirty years or so. I do not expect to see my siblings or cousins for many years. And I can insure that you their rooms will be comfortable for you."

"What are we supposed to eat?" Samantha said.

"A stream runs through this cavern, deep and clear. I have sent scouts to fetch animals, and plants as well. Your diets are complex, but I believe you will be satisfied." Pokala nodded, voice a mix of condescending and entertained. Demons fed on life force, which was the simplest form of food, with a myriad of ways to eat it. Jon had seen demons feed by literally eating animals with their jaws, but he knew the devouring of flesh wasn't always needed. Others, like Pokala, obviously didn't feed using a mouth; she had no mouth. Perhaps being in the presence of deaths she caused was enough for her.

"Now," the queen said, "the twelve of you, go with Amund and Dormar. Jonathan, come with me."

His twelve knights looked at him, as if he might, at the last moment, reveal that this was all a trick set up by him, and that his knights were to go on a rampage the moment he gave the signal. But, if any of them tried anything, the demons would have no trouble swarming them. The castle walls were filled with hallways, some with openings high above the floor, providing vantage points for demons he knew would leap upon them from above. And there were other demons, watching, poking their heads out from shadows.

"Jon?" several of his knights said.

He turned around, and looked each of them in the eye. Eric, Samantha, Vivienne, Tuomas, Daniel, Marcus, Laurence, Ludwig, Petteny, Marr, Denmer, and Alanaar, twelve knights, each a fighting force capable of guarding the South and East Walls against dozens of Beizites. All that strength was nothing compared to demons, if they were naked and asleep.

But Pokala was a demon, bound to her word. She'd do everything she could to protect them, and considering the two, titanic bodyguards she assigned them, he had to trust her.

"It's ok. We're safe here. Go eat, sleep, and... and discuss, what you wish to do."

"What we wish to do?" Samantha said. "We—"

"I'm not your captain anymore," he said. "Do... as you will. If you go back to the Valley, you will die for nothing. I suggest preparing yourself for a journey across the Wasteland, and take as much time as you need."

The twelve of them stared at him, and he was forced to turn his back, and walk off with the demon queen. He did his best to ignore their murmurs, the disagreements they whispered to each other, and their blatant curses as they inevitably planned to save him from his predicament. They'd learn, sooner or later, that their situation was inescapable.

Moments later, he was alone with Pokala, and he frowned at her with as much frustration and anger as he could summon. It wasn't much. Not only had she agreed to what he asked when she didn't have to, he was also tired. So very tired.

"Come," she said, and she motioned down the hall of dark stone. And he followed, like a good, obedient servant. That's all he was anymore, he supposed.

"I won't kill for you," he said. "Not humans, anyway."

"Of course not, my dear knight. That was the deal. Though, if I did ask, I am sure you would be more than willing to kill the targets I decided."

"Yeah, well, I imagine I'll probably resist most of the orders you give me."

That earned a full on laugh from the queen. "I somehow doubt it."

He raised a brow, sighed, and shrugged. "You're not going to punish me, for defying you preemptively like this?"

"It is my right, I suppose. You are mine now, and if you disobey me, I will punish you as I see fit." Chuckling, she stepped in closer, touched the chest of his armor, and ran a claw down its broad girth. "But I believe, this unexpected situation can be turned into a mutual partnership?"

Heat scorched his spine, and he stepped away from her. "I've lost everything, Pokala. Everyone I've loved is dead, and all that matters now is saving the few I can."

Stepping away from her earned something he hadn't expected. She let him. Now that he was hers, and had no recourse to defend himself without violating that arrangement, defiance meant punishment. But no punishment came. The demon queen sighed instead, and stared at him, mask-like facing looking him up and down a few times with slow, casual body language.

"You must think me cruel."

He snorted. "I think you're a demon, and you don't know a thing about empathy."

Her spike wings flared for a second, as if she was readying a strike. But his flinch was apparently enough to settle her, and she hissed as she calmed.

"Do not assume you understand my kind, Jonathan. I am not human, but that does not mean I do not feel. Differently, yes, but I do feel."

"I have trouble believing that, considering the things you tried to do to the Valley."

She came up to him and poked him in the chest with a claw, hard enough it made a loud tink as it hit the metal. "You assume we came to kill your kind, and that was your assumption, a faulty one."

"You're a demon! You survive on death."

"We survive on the essence of life!" She came closer again, shoving him and sending him back a few steps. A wall of stone waited for him, catching his weight with all the gentleness of a punch. "We survive by absorbing life, and that can be done in many ways."

"You seriously expect me to believe you came to the Valley to... not kill us? I had to kill Damorok to save lives!"

"Damorok was defiant of my orders to the end. I came to the Valley because you overstepped your bounds, human, you and your kind. We would have conquered you, but that need not involve death. We have other ways to feed than slaughter."

He pushed away from the wall, and marched up to her, glaring. "We would rather die than be slaves."

That shocked her. The amber orbs on her mask-face glowed, and she stepped back, tilting her head to the side a little as his words hit her.

"And yet... here you are."

"I'm here to save my knights."

"And when they are safe? Will you end your life, rather than be a slave?"

He winced and looked down, turning his head to the side and looking at one of the glowing amber crystals on the floor along the stone wall. "You swore to keep them safe, if I agreed to be your slave. After that, a slave always has the right to kill themselves."

"I..." She snapped her wings again, and started walking away. "Take the next thirty days to grieve and recover, knight. Then, I will explain your tasks." With that, she marched off, claws slamming against the stone in frustration.

After a few seconds, he was alone. Armed, but alone, in a castle filled with demons and darkness. With a gulp, he pat the hilt of his sword, and started wandering. If demons jumped him and killed him, Pokala would still be bound to her agreement. A little exploring also meant he could see if his knights were in danger, and maybe help if they were.

Killing himself was not a thought that had ever entered his mind, not until Pokala said it. He'd consigned to being her slave, and then once his friends were safe and gone, he'd be the most horrible slave ever, until it inevitably led to his death. Taking his life with his own hands was an option though, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was no room for faith in that action, no trust in Janavere that something could still happen, something that could pull a spec of good from the horrible fate of the Valley, and the horrible decision he'd been forced to make.

For now, it didn't matter. Until his knights were on their way, he had to play nice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~Three Weeks Later~~

He walked down the hall of strange, curved stone, and sighed. What he needed was a bath, something to help him relax and quiet his thoughts.

Until a bath could be had, his thoughts ran around like young dogs in the fields. Pokala had done exactly as she said she would, so far. No request had been made of him, or his knights. Protection had been provided for them and their horses, food and drink as well. Equipment had been made available for bathing, exercise, grooming, and privacy. It'd taken time to learn how to shave and whatnot, using odd knives and sharp rocks, but Pokala provided as best she could.

Some demons had tried to kill a few knights once, but the two bodyguards, Amund and Dormar, had been quick to rip their kin apart; the bloody mess that'd followed had been horrific. Demons could feed off of killing each other though, so according to them, it wasn't a big deal.

He still wasn't sure what the demons were feeding off of. There were a lot of them, and they weren't eating other, usually. What were they eating?

It was easier thinking about the mysteries of his situation, and keeping his comrades safe, than it was thinking about his dead family. Crying in the privacy of the room he'd been given, the second night of his stay in the demon's castle, had been both relieving and terrifying. Emotionally and physically vulnerable, to the point nearby demons could have heard him and probably killed him, was not how he wanted to spend the rest of his nights.

But no demons came for his head. For three weeks, all had been quiet, other than that one encounter Amund and Dormar had taken care of, and those demons hadn't come for Jon. The demon queen herself said little to him, maybe due to anger, maybe doing her best to convince him suicide was not his best course of action. He didn't know. For now, no more thinking, just bathe.

He passed through the arch, the curving rock looking more like talons and bones than actual mountain rock. There was a bathing hole on each floor of the underground castle, and on the highest floor, he'd used the one the demon queen had. If there was one thing the castle of stone offered, it was indulgent luxury, and that included the bath.

The archway offered only a subtle curve of hallway to hide the bath beyond, and once past it, Jon managed a small smile at the sight. A waterfall. Somehow, the demons had carved a giant horizontal cut through the mountainside, and for some reason, it was warm. The water flowed into a large basin, a waist-deep pool easily fifty feet in diameter, and it flowed down through a hole to the basins below. Several of the amber crystals hung from above, illuminating everything in the gentle light, rippling over the ever shifting water.

But, it wasn't empty.

"Jonathan." Pokala stood underneath the waterfall, claws sliding up and down her body as she cleaned her red skin. She was naked.

Naked was a strange way to describe her, because much of her was unchanged. She still wore the underbust corset, and only now did Jonathan realize that it was actually her skin, her body, the black scales that surrounded where her ribs would be. The black skirt that dangled from the corset was gone, exposing curvy, toned legs of red skin and black slivers of scales. The black scales that covered her nipples were gone as well, and instead, he could see the black nipples themselves, the same color as her horns and wings.

That had apparently been the only clothes she wore, a skirt, and some nipple coverings. Otherwise, she'd been naked all along. And without those metal plates along the underside of her breasts, her bust was free to lightly jiggle with her movements as she raised her elbows up over her head while running claws along her horns.

They were utterly enormous. Her horns, and her breasts.

"Jonathan," she said again, voice soft, and far more inviting than he wanted it to be.

"I was going to bathe. I'll come back later. Sorry."

"Come, sit." She motioned to the pool's side, where a seat waited within the water, carved into the side of the pool. "We have not spoken much, since your arrival. I wish to alleviate that situation."

"I'm dressed, and—"

"Disrobe, and sit." She turned her face to him, and looked at him, the eyeless face cutting into him. "Now."

Her first real order for him, was to bathe with her? Gulping, he walked to the edge of the pool. He had to, it was her command. Grinding his teeth and forcing himself to look away from the curvy demoness, he tossed aside his shirt, and slid down his pants, before he reached for his undergarment.

The demoness folded her arms under her breasts, resting her massive bosom on her forearms, and watched him. "Humans are fools, led by sexual desires every moment of their adult lives, but remain ashamed of their own bodies." Shrugging, she walked over to him, stepping out from underneath the waterfall, and stood underneath him in the pool, the water shifting around her ridiculously tiny waist.

"It's not shame. We respect each other's privacy."

"You are nothing but self-loathing imbeciles." She tossed his words aside with a wave of her claws. "Do not make me repeat myself."

He did not appreciate being insulted, but an order was an order. Frowning at her, he tossed his undergarment aside. Now the two of them were naked. He forced his eyes on her face, and stepped into the water before sitting down on the ledge within. It brought the water up to his stomach, and as much as he was trying to look stern and angry with Pokala, the water felt amazing on his skin, every time.

"I didn't come here to fight. I came because—"

"Because you had nowhere else to go. And yes, I know you meant the bath. I meant otherwise." The queen came toward him, and leaned down. He froze as she set her claws onto the ledge of the pool around him, so they were face to face, her breasts dangling underneath her. By Janavere, stop noticing them. "Now you are trapped here, by your circumstance, and by my hand. I admit, it is a circumstance that pleases me." She leaned in closer, and closer, until her strange, featureless, intimidating, alien visage was only inches from him.

"Yes, I suppose my misery would make you happy." This buddy buddy attitude was starting to get grating. They had no reason to be nice to each other, and yet she continued to be so.

"I did not say t was your sadness I enjoyed, Jonathan. It would be self defeating, to not care and tend to the knight I have acquired. And while you are my knight, you will do as I demand," she said. Jonathan frowned at her, but she laughed at him, a husky chuckle, before she stood back up. She turned around, spread her long wings of spines and spikes, and sat down. Between his knees, her butt found the lip of the seat, and she pushed herself back, pressing his — thankfully flaccid — penis against his pelvis with her frustratingly curvy butt. She had no tail, unlike many of the other demons.