Consort

Author's Note: Technically my first hardcore story! But just a little, so be warned as usual. It's also a combination of two smaller chapters into one part, just from where it was originally written. Originally based on the following prompts; "Demon who sings so sweetly, it is easy to forget their true nature" and "Demon who has left their mark on you, to ensure you do not forget."

CW for a captive princess, little bit of blood and dubious consent

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The terrific sounds of battle had long since died, alongside the Princess's defenders, and now she lay helplessly beneath her bed. Wards that had been engraved one thousand years ago -- by the castle's Elfish builders, long since driven out -- cracked and comported a sea of glistening, raw magic across the floor.

She tried desperately to crawl away only to find herself plucked and placed back down, upon the bed. "You're still here. I had thought you would have fled with the royal procession."

"I-I wanted the Kingdom gone -- not me alongside it." She hid herself again, under the sheets, her Demon sitting down beside her.

"Nor I, sweetest fruit of the tree," said her Demon. It has all been burned, branches and roots the same. The Princess sat up, smiling as she had when they first met. "Besides, you've given me this Kingdom, but I still need you to secure it."

Her Demon's hands bore a fine wreath of silver roses, a delicate but unbreakable chain blossoming from one bud. The Princess pushed herself back. "Áine?"

"Your Grace, sweetest one. This was your wish, was it not?" Her Demon drew near and the Princess fled into the pillows, crying. The collar coiled itself around her neck -- her Demon tugging till she was bled by its thorns. "You're going to look so beautiful for the court."

"But Ái-- Your Grace, how could a demon ever hold court? Why would--" The Princess was wound closer and closer, till her tears could be kissed from her cheeks.

"I could not hold my domain with monsters -- the people would not tolerate it." How long till a farmer's boy, blessed unfairly with destiny, would cut her down. "So, we must make a showing. Soothe them, and show my intentions to make peace. And I know, you wish things to be better, and they will be -- in time. Theana?"

Áine held her Princess's hands, brought them together between their hearts, whom asked softly, "But why must I be there -- why must it be like this?"

"When will I tire of this? Six, seven centuries?" How many dynasties could have been sown and felled in that time. How much work would be lost. "There must be a lineage. And, for the people, it must be legitimate, more or less. So you must come--"

"--that they might know you, sweetest one." The Demon contorted herself silently, that she might whisper into her Princess's ear. "My consort."

---

The Princess wished there'd been a thousand flights of stairs, to be carried away warmly in her Demon's arms. She had counted two, which made these her mother's chambers though she felt no recognition of that awful place. The marble floor had boiled and bubbled, grasping up the walls, crystalline tendrils dripping from the ceiling.

It was the cave she had been cast into, years ago -- to die, before her Demon found her -- before her late mother 'forgot' she had done so.

How often the Princess had returned there, to her Demon -- wishing to her that the world could be made better, given so many sweetened words in return.

"It's time -- consort." she said, with only a silvered fleck of sombreness, drawing the Princess across the room on her leash -- gentle only so she wouldn't slip -- into the crimson light of the fireplace. "You need not be dressed again, for a few decades."

Rosy flames slipped from their iron cage, dragging the Princess to her knees. "Please," she squealed. "You said it wouldn't be like this, Áine--"

What did she promise you? Cursed cinders whispered in her ears. Her Grace. They danced her dress away as flakes of ash. Your Grace. Ancient jewels crumbled into dust. Your Grace.

They left only that bouquet her Demon had placed around her neck; of petals, and thorns, and broken promises; which her Demon used to bring their lips together. Then flinging her back, into a bed of snakes, before she could fool herself at her Demon's tenderness.

"How such sweet fruit grows -- from the most rotten of trees -- that, I shall never know."

They slithered around her -- the Princess shivering at their cold, living metal. "Because I know you're better than this, and I saw who you were -- beneath tooth and claw." They bit into her flesh, spilling blood and fury. "And you can never hide that from me, Áine."

She stood -- haloed in flames -- with coal-dark eyes flickering in uncertain shadows. She crawled forth to run a pair of dulled claws along her Princess's bared cunt, snakes splitting her legs apart. How much of herself she had bargained, to give and be taken away.

"No. To conquer, to control. That's my nature, sweetling who knows only a name I made for her. Which you will forget, and remember-- Your Grace." She pressed inside, claiming what had been surrendered long ago.

But now she pulled against the coiling snakes, as they nipped at her again and again trying to make her stop. "Fuck Your Grace. I don't know who she is, and I don't love her."

Her Grace paused, and withdrew, slowly -- making her whimper at its absence.

"I love you, Áine. Please, just Áine." The Princess managed to strangle one of the snakes. "I don't care if it's the only one I'll ever know, if you made it because you love me."

"You--" Her Demon's tail curled on itself, snakes disappearing into the unnatural undergrowth. "--you're such a sweet, foolish girl."

The Princess rubbed the marks on her arms -- which were faint, and would heal. "Because I trusted you?" She took her Demon's hands -- rough, and sharp, and unforgiving of herself. But she was soft, and kind, and caring. "Oh Áine, fuck you."

And she was honest. Because the Princess didn't need to know Áine's true name to compel her -- to bloom in her such sweet, and sincere, promises. Áine had to make things better.

She knocked into her -- horns tangling with golden, ash-covered hair. "You have bargained everything, yet still I am in your debt -- Theana." The faintest tear, surviving the furnace of her heart, fell from Áine's eye. "I love you, and I-I'm sorry that I do."

She grasped at Theana, tugging and squeezing at her flesh. The Princess wasn't her either; just this empty object of her instinctual, demonic desires. Áine didn't want to own that, she wanted to own her, however Theana would let her. "I will never be as I was, when I was mortal -- neither will you. And I don't know how you will ever forgive me for that."

Theana sighed -- nuzzling into Áine's neck. "Well first, you'll take this bloody collar off and find something softer. Then, as promised, you will fucking breed me -- your consort."