Conquered: Spoils of War Ch. 05

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Arik captures his runaway princess love slave.
5.1k words
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Part 5 of the 6 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 12/28/2003
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Jolie blinked sleepily, gazing slowly about her. Familiar gold silk curtains shrouded the circular bed laden with pillows of ruby, chocolate, cream and gold. Morning light filtered softly through the trio of tall stone archways leading to a circular balcony overlooking the green hills and smooth lakes of Alverda. A smile curved Jolie's lips as her gaze fell on her sister Kaline where she slept curled up in a chair by the bed.

Jolie's sleep had been uneasy and fitful. Suffocating memories of the cramped, dark confines of the chest she had hidden in had invaded her dreams. She vaguely remembered being found by servants, weak and confused. Pushing back the cloying fear that rose to overwhelm her, Jolie slid her feet to the cool stone floor.

She rose slowly on trembling legs and pushed back her tangled golden mane. Slipping on the waiting wispy wrap, she tied the belt around her slightly thickened waist. Weakness flooded her limbs as walked to the balcony's edge, yet she would not be denied the sight of her home world after so long. Her fingers curled around the cool railing for balance as she breathed in deeply of the perfumed air. She drank in the welcome sight. The breeze whispered through her hair and warm sunshine caressed her soft skin. She was home.

Jolie didn't know how long she stood there lost in her own thoughts before she sensed she was not alone. She gazed to her left as another come to stand beside her on the balcony edge. A bronzed profile met her glance, and fear shot through her. A split second passed before her body knew he wasn't Arik. His head turned to gaze down at her, revealing a face that was similar to Arik's, only younger, softer somehow, and lacking the vibrant energy that surrounded the king. His lips were different, thinner, and there was something about the shape of his eyes. Yet they shone with the same intelligence, and wariness filled her. Prince Trake.

"Kal has slept by your side every night since your return."

Jolie turned back to gaze over the lakes as she struggled to control her emotions. What right did this man have to call her sister by her beloved nickname?

The silence stretched as she become increasingly uncomfortable beneath his searching gaze. Did he know? Did he intend sending her back to his brother now that the drugs were cleansed from her body? Or was Arik here, on Alverda? Her knuckles turned white where they gripped the railing as she fought to draw breath into her lungs.

"Although no one knows exactly where it is you returned from. You were found laying unconscious on your bed. No one could provide an answer as to where you came from or how you came to be there." He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he propped his hip against the railing, gazing down at her. The musical language sounded stilted on his tongue.

"I-I can't remember." Jolie turned away from him, intent on fleeing to the safety of her chamber and her sister's sleeping presence. Trake caught her wrist and swung her around to face him. For an instant in time it was almost as though Arik stood before her. Jolie froze, the pulse fluttering madly at the base of her throat. "I can't recall anything after the invasion," she lied, tugging on her wrist.

"I give you fair warning. Whatever plots you are scheming, Princess Jolina, forget them. I will not tolerate a rebellion within the walls of my own palace."

"This is not your palace." She wrenched her wrist from his grip and fled back to her chamber on weak legs, catching a glimpse of surprise on his face. It was only as she reached the archways that she realised her mistake. In her anger she had spoken in his native tongue.

She dropped to her knees beside her older sister and gently shook her awake with trembling hands. Tears filled her eyes as they met her sister's warm brown ones and she wrapped her arms around her sister for the first time in what seemed an age. She was unaware of the look that passed between Kaline and Trake, before Trake turned away.

~*~

Jolie learned that her father had collapsed when Arik's men had stormed the palace. It had all been too much watching his peaceful world crumble beneath the force of the conquering invaders, and his heart had given way. Her father had been a gentle man, more suited to studying his favourite astronomy books than ruling a Kingdom. Sadness washed over Jolie, but also a guilty feeling of relief at knowing he would never discover the truth of what she had become. A king's whore.

Seemingly some things had remained much the same, while others had changed drastically. The fragile peace on Alverda was aided by the proclamation that Kaline's and Trake's first child would become heir to the throne. Until such time, the council had the authority to make decisions and laws across the land. The council was made up of an uneasy mixture of Alverdians and Loas warriors. Things had stabilised to a certain extent in the three months Jolie had been captured, but there was still so much uncertainty with the rebels. The rebels hid in the mountains, causing as much strife as possible in their cause to overthrow the conquerors.

Had it been members of the rebellion that had helped her escape Arik's harem? Why had she been left at the palace? Was it because she was ill from the effects of the drugged wine? The questions plagued her.

It felt strange to be in her old suite where nothing had changed, except her. All her gowns hung in the robes, pressed and scented with sachets of her favourite flowers. Her jewels and perfumes lay carelessly scattered across her armoire where she had left them so long ago. It was as though she had never left.

Kaline's sisterly patience opened the floodgate on Jolie's emotions. She found herself telling of her capture and the strange people and customs of Loas. Yet Jolie couldn't bring herself to tell her sister of the slave auction before the warlords, or of being locked up in a harem.

As if sensing her sister's reticence, Kaline asked gently "did they hurt you, Jolie?"

Jolie shook her head, unable to meet Kal's gaze. She loved her sister dearly, but Jolie couldn't find the words to tell her. It was too soon, too fresh. She wanted to forget Loas and its king. She couldn't bear her sister's pity, unintentional as it would be. "Do you - care for Trake?"

"At first, no," Kaline said, accepting the change of subject. "But now...You don't think..." Kaline trailed off, and Jolie hugged her.

"That you're betraying Cam? Of course not. He'd be glad you found someone to be happy with." Cam and Kaline had secretly breached the laws of Alverda and become lovers when they were fifteen. They were to cross palms as soon as Kaline turned twenty, only Cam had been thrown from his skian and killed instantly. Since then Kaline had avoided making a match, seemingly content to oversee the palace while their father was pre-occupied with books and treaties on astronomy. Jolie was glad to see her sister move on, but the knowledge that it was with Trake worried her.

They talked for an age as Kaline filled her in on palace gossip. The servants came and went, bringing food and refreshments and a hot tub of water for Jolie. It was only as Jolie rose from the scented water and the maid dried her hair that Kaline turned serious.

"Jolie, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but the mark on the small of your back...it's the same as Trake's insignia?"

Jolie met Kaline's troubled gaze, and shame flooded her. "I – it is nothing."

Kaline let it be, and eventually left Jolie to rest. Jolie caught Kal's hand as she turned to leave. "I told Trake I couldn't remember anything."

Kaline squeezed her hand in understanding. "I'll let the council know too. That way you don't have to answer any uncomfortable questions until you are ready."

Jolie nodded wearily, relief washing over her at the unquestioning loyalty of her sister.

~*~

Jolie banished the maids from her room and dressed herself later that afternoon. She riffled through her robes, finding a simple red gown that left her shoulders bare and gathered tightly beneath the swell of her breasts before falling in soft folds to the floor. A gold chain necklet scattered with amber teardrops hung from her throat and spilled down over her shoulders and breasts, reflecting the light as she moved.

She twisted and turned before the mirror, fiddling with her hair and adjusting the gown. It felt so strange and restrictive to wear clothing after so long without. Then she dropped her hands to her side and smiled at the knowledge that she had chosen what she wore.

Jolie turned and left the chamber, following the familiar steps to the uppermost palace gardens. She had started at the first sight of the bronzed warriors with dark hair, only to discover they were scattered throughout the palace. Loas men towered over the golden haired men of her own world, a constant reminder of all that she wished to forget.

She walked through the archways to the circular haven overlooking Alverda. It was here that the royal tombs rested. She ran her hands lovingly over the sculptured stone, a sad smile curving her lips. Time passed unheeded as she stood silently by her father and mother's tomb. It was only as she turned and made her way back to the palace that she noticed Trake leaning against the stone archways, arms crossed, looking up at the sky. Her approach became hesitant, her heart beginning to race.

"You have been awake less than a day and already Kaline is lying to me." Green eyes, so like Arik's, locked with hers. Yet the intensity and vibrancy that haunted her dreams and every waking moment was missing from this man.

Her fingers curled nervously in the folds of her dress as he spoke in his own tongue. She shook her head, pretending ignorance as she continued to walk towards the arches. A hand reached out and gripped her upper arm as she drew on level with him, halting her retreat. Her impassive face lifted to his.

"If I stripped you of your clothing, would I find the brand of one of the whore houses of Loas marking your skin?"

Her gaze dropped, the fear in her expressive eyes hidden by the sweep of her lashes. "I do not understand the language you speak," she replied in Alverdian.

"You lie to me with such an exquisite face. Did the men of my world, when faced with such loveliness, exhaust their brutal lusts within you? Do you fear I will make you return to such a life? If so, be at ease."

She tore her arm from his grip and escaped within the palace, feeling his steady gaze on her. Something told her that this would not be the last of it.

Missives and flowers had flooded the palace in tribute to the Goddess for Princess Jolie's safe return. They filled the public halls close to brimming, filling her eyes with tears. Yet Jolie knew she must leave Kal and find the rebels, and soon. The weight of this knowledge bore down on her every waking moment.

It was from Kaline that Jolie had learnt of problems facing Loas. Their women had not produced a babe in over fifteen years, forcing their King to conquer new worlds in the search for a compatible race before theirs became a dying one. Kaline confided that there finally seemed a reason for renewed hope, as it was whispered that one of the King's new concubines was breeding. Learning this instilled a deep fear in Jolie. Should Arik find her, would he force her to become a breeding whore for him and his warriors? Jolie smiled weakly at Kaline's hope to carry Trake's babe. Thankfully the early signs of Jolie's early pregnancy went unnoticed beneath the folds of her gown.

That night her dreams were tormented by memories of Arik. She woke feeling disorientated and feverish, her body aching with a yearning that disturbed her. Would she ever be free of the sensual chains of her captor?

Jolie was visiting the tombs of her parents to say a final goodbye when they came for her. Loas warriors filed into the garden, dozens upon dozens, the sun glinting off their silver armour. Jolie's heart felt as though it was being squeezed by a giant fist. Dizziness overcame her as the wall of men parted to reveal Kiara walking toward her. Some secret part of her had known she could never escape Arik.

Arik had not come for her himself. Was it relief or hurt that curled in her belly? A king does not chase after slaves, she told herself. Instead Arik had sent Jolie's attendant, the woman responsible for her grooming and behaviour. It was doubtful Arik was even on Alverda.

Jolie stood frozen as these thoughts rushed through her mind. Kiara moved to stand before her and lifted a gold slave collar. It was almost identical to the one her saviours had removed when she escaped, only this one bore imbedded topaz stones.

Jolie was not flattered that it matched her eyes, but rather filled with a cold fury. As Kiara raised it to Jolie's throat, Jolie tore it from her grasp and threw it far over the balcony.

Kiara slapped her. Jolie's face turned with the force of it, her hand flying to her burning cheek. Without thought Jolie slapped her back. Satisfaction flickered briefly in her golden eyes as she witnessed the other woman's shock.

A sharp command reached them. The warriors and Kiara fell hastily to their knees as though as one. Jolie only caught a glimpse of green before turning to the railing, her heart thudding.

"Jolie." Her lashes fluttered close at the fury behind that one word. "Turn and kneel before me, your king."

Jolie struggled to breathe as she stood looking blindly over her home world. "You are not my king." She felt the whisper of his tunic against her bare shoulders, his warm breathe stirring the golden tendrils of her hair. Yet he did not touch her.

"Do not force me to demonstrate my mastery over you before my men," he said for her ears only. "We both know you cannot win this battle."

The silence stretched between them as she refused to accede to his command. He caught her wrist and dragged her around to face him. Intense green eyes met hers.

"Remove your gown," Arik demanded. Her eyes widened. "You are my korva, my slave. A slave does not wear gowns befitting a princess."

"You bastard," she whispered between bloodless lips. "I am not a possession to be owned."

"Do not defy me, Jolie. Not now, when I am so furious I can't decide whether to throttle you or take you where we stand. Kneel before me and acknowledge me as your King, or strip."

She glared at him, her golden eyes sparking.

"So be it." Large hands settled on her shoulders and turned her jerkily around. She felt him yank at the buttons along her back, tearing at the silken cloth. "I have spent the last few days and nights tormented by the image of you locked up in a Loas whore house, forced to submit to brutal warriors intent on exhausting their lusts between your sweet thighs."

His words left her stunned as he tore the gown from her body, leaving her in a wispy sheath that clung to the curves of her breasts and hips. The thinness of the cloth left little to the imagination. She heard his indrawn breath, felt his hands gentle as they slipped about her tiny waist. His palms slid up and cupped her tender breasts, drawing her back against the solid, muscular length of him. She had to bite her lip to prevent a soft whimper escaping.

"You belong to me. You will only wear my things." He murmured against her ear as his finger curled around the cloth at her breasts.

"Don't..." she whispered, hating the betraying warmth between her thighs. Her lashes fluttered as he peeled the fragile bodice down to expose the tiny swells. They strained for his caresses, the rosy tips tightening into small buds. Humiliation warred with need to feel him touch her after so long.

Fingers stroked teasingly over the small, high mounds. Pleasure thrummed in her secret place. "Why do you fight your master? You cannot win" His lips brushed her bared shoulder.

Jolie stiffened. Brushing his hands away from her, she turned to face him, holding the wispy material over her breasts with the flat of her hand. His broad shoulders blocked her view of the silent warriors kneeling around them.

"Why do you treat me as your possession, to pick up and put down at will?" she countered angrily, kicking at her ruined gown. She slipped past him and strode toward the arched entrance. He caught her upper arm, twisting her back around to face him.

"Leave me alone!" she cried as she struggled to tug her arm from his grip. Her nipples pressed against the fine sheath, their shadowy discs clearly visible. She heard his breath catch; his fingers tightened around her upper arms.

"I find I cannot. You are exquisite." His gaze licked over her, starting little fires deep within her. She wiggled slightly, becoming aware of the hard ridge of flesh straining against his breeches. A shiver skated down her spine as she remembered the feel of him pressing insistently inside of her as he stole up into her warmth. "I had thought you lost to me. I imagined countless times the image of you crushed beneath a Loas trader, your delicate skin bruised, your golden eyes dulled with pain."

Jolie pushed against his chest, but he caught her wrists, pinning them at the small of her back with one hand as his head dipped. Her breasts rose and fell heavily as his mouth brushed hers. An arm tightened about her waist, drawing her body full length against his. She moaned against his mouth, her breasts crushed against his chest.

"I hate to do this, little one, but you leave me no choice. I will never let you escape me again." She frowned up at him, not understanding. Then she felt it, a tiny prick at her neck before everything went black.

~*~

Jolie woke to find everything blurry. Her head pounded. Then her eyes shot open and her fingers flew to her throat. A metal band met her questing fingers. Tears filled her eyes as she traced the imbedded jewels. She was again his slave. One of many whores to satisfy his sexual urges.

She sat up on the familiar dais of pillows, the chain tinkling where it was connected to the bolt in the centre of the King's chamber. A large muscular body was sprawled at her side, awake and watching her intently.

"I hate you." She gazed at him challengingly, watching the green eyes narrow. What was about to happen was inevitable. Yet still she had to resist him, or her pride would suffer.

Her breath caught as his fingers glided down between the valley of her breasts. His large hands settled just beneath the small mounds. Thumbs caressed their pouting tips as he gazed upon her expressive face. He rose to sit beside her, his head dipping. Warm lips slanted across hers, softly teasing hers open, tasting her.

Soon the kiss turned less gentle. His mouth crushed hers as he lent over her, forcing her down onto her back on the bed. She lay with her arms passively at her sides, accepting his kisses. His thigh slid between hers, forcing them to yield. Her breath caught at the press of him so intimately against her. Her nipples were teased by the thatch of hair on his wide chest. His fingers sunk into her tangled mane, holding her face firm beneath his seeking mouth. She couldn't prevent a whimper as his free hand slid down over her belly and along her inner thigh, easing them wide apart.

His hard throbbing shaft rested threateningly against her melting flesh. She struggled to maintain any sense of control as he rubbed himself against her, her hips arching. The torment was unending. But she would not allow him to master her by coaxing her body into submission.

His mouth dominated hers, forcing her to yield beneath the passionate onslaught. Knowing hands drifted higher, discovering her dewy heat. He stroked her, and she burned.

With a will of their own her fingers glided up over his back, tracing the muscle and sinew that moved beneath the firm, tanned flesh. She traced his battle scars; felt his warmth seep into her hands.

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