Diaries of a Dark Princess, Pt. 02

All characters are over eighteen.

***

8^th Day of Moonfall, Year 879 of the Age of Shadow

Today, Diary, has been a challenge. It began with a summons to the throne room-

Oh, fine, very well, it technically began with another strange dream.

I dreamed that I was a simple peasant girl living in a snug stone cottage. I was doing... something boring and peasant related. Possibly sewing. There was a needle and thread involved so it was probably that. There was a knock at the door and then Samuel walked through in all of his rustic glory. He smiled at me, doffed his hat and said, "Honey, I'm home!"

Now, this would of course be the perfect moment to disintegrate his worthless body with fell magics drawn from the deepest of hells. But instead dream-me merely responded in a simpering tone best suited to a brainless serf, "Oh love! I missed you so!"

And he laughed, a great booming laugh that seemed to shake the foundations of the little cottage that was- apparently- our mutual home. "Ah! I worked in the fields all day, but it was worth it just to come home to you!"

And dream me- the silly twit- didn't snap at him for being a brute with ideas far above his station but instead batted her eyelids and replied, "Would you like dinner now? I cooked your favorite!"

But dream-Samuel, who apparently had apparently removed his shirt in the time it took for me to reply, eyed me with a strange hunger that caused a queer thrill to run through my body. "No, I think I'll have my sweet little tart first." And with that blunt force trauma of an innuendo, he tore my dress off my body! Before I could smite him for his treachery he swept me up into his arms! I was trapped- encircled- captured!- in a prison of hard, warm, muscular flesh! My naked breasts pressed against his chest while his lips found mine.

And dream me- whom I shall, through dark rituals and ancient contracts with slavering demons, conjure into existence solely so that I might execute her for the crime of aggravated sluttishness- kissed him back as she was carried like a sack of coal into the bedroom and deposited on a rough set of dirty sheets with a squeal of joy. As he cuddled me in his big strong arms I confess that I felt a strange sense of- I'm not sure what. Whatever it was it stunned me into a stupor.

I felt something else stunning me as well- hot as a furnace, hard as a steel rod as it pressed right up against my belly. I wriggled against it but that only seemed to excite him because he suddenly rained kisses down like blows on my defenseless skin- my lips, my neck, the slopes of my breasts- each point of contact burning like a pinprick of flame. He shifted and that damn scorching rod pressed between my legs and tensed like an adder about to strike-

And-

Well, then I woke up. To very sweaty sheets.

...

I confess that I am not, perhaps, the most expert in matters of passion. I am aware that I have a reputation for unapproachability; a tendency towards coldness; a history of setting would-be suitors on fire-

(Which hopelessly unfair. It only happened twice).

I know that in my quest for sorcerous power and my drive in aiding my father in his conquests I may have...skipped certain social pursuits. Lovers, friends, pets that aren't lethally dangerous in some way- that sort of thing. It is difficult to make meaningful connections when one is a dark princess. It's mostly a guessing game as to whether they are trying to manipulate me for their gain or are actually assassins sent by Terra. (Lately it's been more of the latter than the former.)

But I mean, I'm certainly not ignorant of those matters. I mean I do have a theoretical knowledge. Of you know.

The sex.

Look, one of these days I'll become Dark Empress and then I'll have the time and security take loads of lovers and become incredibly good at lovemaking and be so gorgeous and elegant that all shall love me and despair! There's probably a book or something I can read first. Maybe with pictures.

Anyway.

It was easy, even in my exhausted state, to identify the cause of the dream. Obviously, my bizarre nocturnal fantasy was the result of the idiot ramblings of that moronic peasant! I assumed that the sheer awfulness of his story- so utterly different from the refined conversations with my peers, laced as they are with layers of meaning and subtle threats- was an awful shock to my brain. That, coupled with his more lurid descriptions of slatternity, led to the depraved nightmare that tormented me last night.

***

I did not have time to ponder on the matter as shortly after awaking it I was approached by a profane messenger informing me that I had been summoned to the Hall of Lost Hope and the Throne of Shadows where the Dark Emperor, i.e. Daddy, awaited me. I dressed in a simple outfit of black embroidered silk tunic over dark leggings and left. I reached the great audience hall in good time, kneeling before the Great and Terrible Throne that Crushes All Nations Beneath it. I took a moment to consider Daddy- so resplendent atop his great ebon throne! So mighty, entombed in his Eternal Armour of Night! So majestic, with his burning red eyes and his grey flesh and his clawed hands! Those demonic mutations have only enhanced his aura of nobility as the years go on! I will never understand why he didn't marry again after that business with mother!

The downside to all of this, of course, was that Terra was there. Typical to form she was dressed in pointlessly skimpy robes of black and red with a pointless window cut out around her cleavage-

(-Oh but of course no-one minds that the High Priestess of the Dark God dresses like a slutty curtain. Or that most of her plans are idiot schemes that might well have been written in crayon. Oh, look, let's turn the three Princes of Goldrun into evil clowns! Let's breed an army of demonic penguins! Let's build a floating death-tower shaped like a laughing skull! Oh, how witty! No, don't you understand Feera, your sister is an insane genius rather than a complete idiot, which means that instead of being locked away for blatant and repeated stupidity she just gets handed all the blessings of the Dark God while you have to study sorceries for years! Oh, she's so unpredictable! So cunning! So crazy!)

...

At any rate, I arrived in time to listen to my half-sister (and yes, I have spent a considerable amount of time combing the imperial records for evidence of adoption, baby swapping and infidelity on the part of her mother) rambling on about her latest moronic plan. "And that," she said, "is why I have sent agents to steal the Princess Hopestra from the Palace of Brighteria. Once we have it in our possession I will enact a grand ritual to corrupt and steal her essence!"

"The long-awaited invasion of the Alliance Lands begins in less than a month," Father rumbled. "Our forces already outnumber them many times over. Why should I waste my time with this frivolous exercise?"

"Frivolous?" The idiot said. "Remember, father, that the Princess Hopestra is the heir to the Shining Light of Hope! Once she has been corrupted her light will as well. She will become a potent slave of shadows, ready to wreck awful havoc on our foes and destroy the will of her weak and witless mother. Imagine the horror on Queen Justinia's face as her daughter strikes her down with her own family's power!"

Father turned his terrible gaze upon me and I bowed my head lower, doing my best to hide my smirk at my sister's idiocy. "Do you believe this ritual to be feasible?" he asked.

I pondered the situation. There was a small- very small, to be frank- chance that she might be able to capture the princess and enact a corruptive ritual. And that the essence of the Light of Hope wouldn't destroy father in a titanic conflagration of divine power or level half the capital because Terra thought painting the ritual runes backwards was a valid artistic choice. And if this happened- well then, she would be the one responsible for the destruction of our foes, wouldn't she? And I obviously could not allow that. No, if the ritual didn't work it would hamper our efforts to conquer the world; if it did, it would make Terra look better than me and that was not allowed.

On the other hand...

What had my idiot prisoner said yesterday? Family Shouldn't Fight. Family Should Share. Pearls of 'wisdom' from his so-called witch mother. Nonsense, of course- it was because every generation of our lineage had trained each other through treachery and backstabbing and open civil war that we remained strong, winnowing away the cowardly and the stupid and the trusting and everyone else too weak to commit to our endless goals of world conquest. Why, the very idea that we might coddle each other was madness.

Madness...

I turned to Terra, who was no doubt waiting for me to raise objections along the lines of no, the great ritual would require all of our mages and priests and draw badly needed resources away from our war preparations or it would be child's play for some hero to disrupt or co-opt it for their own purposes or I wouldn't trust you to boil an egg without somehow getting everyone in the kitchen killed. Instead I said in the most measured tone possible, "That, my dearest sister, is an excellent idea."

The expression of insipid shock that passed over Terra's face was a joyous thing to behold. I continued, "I will be happy to lend my expertise to attaining this goal in the most expedient way possible."

Terra finally mastered her shock long enough to say, "I don't need your help."

"I insist. Family Should Share, shouldn't they?" Oh, it was so very, very hard not to sneer as I continued, "I feel that we have drifted apart these last few years, little sister. It would be a delight to bond over our shared love of crushing the last vestiges of hope from the eyes of our pathetic enemies."

Oh, glorious dark gods! To see her flinch as though struck! Father spoke in an amused tone, "To have both daughters agree on a course of action? The stars must have finally aligned in my favor. Very well. Terra, dispatch your agents to the temple to kidnap the Princess Hopestra. Feera, aid Terra in her ritual. But rather than turn the Light of Hope against our enemies, I instead will drain it from her soul, enhance my own dark powers and transform myself into a living god!" He rose from his throne, resplendent in his armor. "And then I shall rise on wings of shadow, decimate the armies of the Alliance, shatter their cities, blot out the sun and then-"

Terra and I- united in truth for just a brief moment- joined him in chorus-

"-We Will Rule the World Under Shadow!"

***

It was thus in high spirits that I returned to my prisoner. I moved through the secret passageways and doubled back to ensure that I wasn't being followed- the usual sort of fun and games- before striding through the narrow, dark passages that cut into the depths of the Darkhold Palace. I reached the entryway of the cell, only to find it opening. Shadra crept out of the cell, wiping her mouth as she did. She saw me and gave off a yowl, nearly leaping off the ground. "Princess!"

I eyed her as I approached. Shadra had her quirks- there was that time she insisted on guarding me while I bathed- but this was definitely a step beyond her usual idiosyncrasies. Out of consideration for her loyalty, I gave her a moment to compose herself before saying, "Report."

"My Beautiful Princess, I- I have done as you said." Her ears were flat and her tail was lashing back and forth. "I have been guarding him and protecting him and- and- making sure he's...comfortable." She licked her lips nervously.

"Has he given you any problems? Trouble? Has he attempted any sort of trickery or tried to escape?"

My feline minion went red under her fur. "Um- no- I mean, he's been very good, My Beautiful Princess."

"Good?"

"Very, erm, helpful."

"Helpful?" That sounded promising. "Has he revealed any details of the Alliance's plans?"

"No- well, not yet. He claims not to be in contact with Queen Justinia or any of her agents. But I'm sure it's all filthy lies and with the right incentives we can get his tongue to waggle-" She stopped for some reason, a guilty expression twisting across her face before saying, "Have you changed your outfit, My beautiful Princess?"

I looked down. It was true that I had indeed decided to change from my stuffy, overly-spiked armored suit and into a rather simpler gown of black and red silk. It may have been a little tighter than I remembered but would prevent me from suffocating in the heat. Certainly it projected an aura of majestic dread as I swept into the hero's cell, Shadra shutting the door behind me.

"Hello, Miss Princess Feera!" The big idiot was stretched was stretched out on his cot. He was shirtless and I was treated to the sight of his over-developed muscles flexing as he shifted around. "How have you been?"

"Don't presume to ask me questions," I said. "You are my prisoner, after all."

"Oh, don't be angry, Miss Princess Feera," he said. "My mum says that a Problem Shared is a Problem Half-Solved."

I paused. I supposed it would cost me nothing to dawdle for a few minutes- besides, it may have allowed me to establish a rapport with the witless twit that I could later exploit. "If you must know, I am vexed. I have had to deal with my little sister."

"Why is that so bad?"

"Because she is a glory-seeking, treacherous, idiotic wastrel! And now I'm roped into a pointless ritual to corrupt an enemy princess to our cause when I could be doing important things! Ah, I wish I could smite her down!"

"Now that's not fair!" He flashed a smile that was so sympathetic that I nearly reduced him to glowing ash on the spot. "You know, I never had a sister. Loved up a lot of sisters, but never had one of my own. It's horrible that you have to fight."

"Our way is to strengthen the bloodlines by competition. My sister is- had always been- my rival for the crown," I explained. "There is not time for pity, mercy or any other sort of weakness."

"That's a shame," said the shirtless dullard, "My mum always says-"

"Family Shouldn't Fight, yes. Speaking of family, you haven't told me who your father is."

"Oh! Right! I was going to tell you last time, on account of the fact that it's got to do with me seeking out my fortune and all that!" He clapped his hands together. "I suppose you want to know about all of that."

"Yes. Begin." Some strange urge led me to say, "Please."

***

"Well, it all started when I had some girls around my place. Let's see...Lera was there, and I was busy with her- she liked to bounce up and down on top of my todger. Mari was licking Edna's boobs- I'd already gone and-"

My mind guiltily flashed back my earlier dream as I yelled, "No more! No more of this! You're going to tell me the important parts of the story and not go into another one of your long, pointless details about having sex with peasant women!"

"Well alright," he said, looking uncharacteristically upset. "I was just setting the scene. Look, my point is that it was a fun summer. Some of the boys were angry with me, but I Showed them my Fists and then my mum had a talk with them and that was that.

Anyway, I was busy with the girls when me mum came in, took one look at me and said, 'Alright, you girls hop off back to your mas and das, I need to have a serious talk with me son.' And some of the girls complained that they hadn't had a go yet but mum got the broom out, which everyone knew meant Business. And so all the girls left and I put my clothes on, all the time thinking that I was in Trouble. But then she said, 'Son, I bet you're wondering why you're special.'

'No, Mum,' says I.

'You haven't wondered why every women in the village has fallen for your charms? Why you can convince them to raise their skirts for you with barely any effort? Why you're bigger and stronger than any of the boys in these parts? Why you have such a strange birthmark on your unmentionables?'

'Well no,' I said. 'I mean, I'm just your son. And doing the sex is fun so it makes sense people would like it.'

Mum didn't speak for a bit. Eventually she said, 'It's because your Da is the Green God of the Woods.'

'Wait,' says I-"

***

"Just- wait a moment," I interrupted him. "I'm sorry. Did you just say that your father was a god?"

"Yop." He nodded. "So anyway-"

"No."

"Begging your pardon Miss Princess, but-"

"There are perhaps a half-dozen bloodlines that claim original decent from divine sources," I said in a stern voice. "My own is one of them- descended from the union between the Dark God of Conquest and the Great Profane Sorceress of lost Carosca, from whose womb the first Dark Emperor was born. Each one an ancient dynasty who command the fate of great lands. And you're telling me that you- you- are a first-generation scion?"

"I don't know what scion means," he said. "But maybe let me finish my story first before you get all mean?"

"I am not being mean!" I snarled. "But fine- dig yourself in deeper."

"As I was saying," continued the oaf, "I said, 'Wait, I thought my Dad was a soldier who died far away from Being Brave?'

'That was a lie,' she said. I was a bit put out about that- I had dreams about going off and being brave and probably handsome like my da, fighting evildoers and the like- begging your pardon, Miss Princess Feera. Anyway she continued, 'I had to lie to protect you. If the agents of the dark empire found you they might capture you and take you away'- why are you are laughing, Miss Feera?"

"No reason," I said. "Please continue."

"Well. She said that I had to go with her to the Great Heart of the Forest, where the Hidden Temple of the Green God could be found."

"Nonsense," I said. "We know nothing about a hidden temple to the Green God!"

"Well yes," he said with what I felt was an insolent degree of patience, "That's because it's hidden."

"Very well. Continue."

"Well, she put on her nicest dress and we both walked into the woods. We walked up long and ancient roads, past bit stone statues-"

"What sort of statues?"

"Oh, you know. Big statues of women in the altogether with big boobies. Huge standing stones shaped like todgers. You know. Boring statues that are all over the place.

Anyway, we entered a big clearing with old walls and ruins and at the end there was this man. He was big and tall- bigger and taller than me- and he had a pair of antlers on his head. Oh, and he was naked and his todger was massive. My mum walked up to him and bowed low. She said, 'Greetings my Lord, he is ready. The time of prophecy is nigh.'

The big man said, 'Ah! My most favored priestess! Tell me, have thine conducted thineself in a manner befitting mine worship?'

And my mum said, 'I lie with men in worship for you. I prepare tinctures and salves to ease their pains and make fertile their bodies and lands.'

'And him?' He looked up at me and I must say Miss Princess, he didn't really act like my long lost Da. No big hugs, no grand speeches or slaps on the back- he just looked at me like I was a pot bellied big he was thinking of buying-"

"Does that happen often?" I asked.

"Sometimes. Buying a pig ain't no spur of the moment thing."

"Alright," I said. "Just attempting to confirm the precise level of poverty involved."

"Anyways," he continued with just a touch of reproach, "My Da said, 'Are thine sure?' And Ma said, 'Yes, I would bloody know wouldn't I?' and he said, 'Are you sure he's not someone else's?' and then she told me to drop my pants. And I did and he looked at my todger and said, 'Verily, he is mine child-'"

***

I rose from my seat. "Stop that!"