Donella

Author's note: This story originated as a quick fic for a friend's OC, who can be found as a unique character in the game No Haven by Bedlamgames. Completely uncanonical! Or, at least, the narrators are unreliable.

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The two mercenaries didn't talk much around their campfire. There wasn't much to talk about. The older one was named Rogar, and he bore the look of a grizzled veteran. A scar across his cheek marked him as a dangerous man, or perhaps a clumsy one. The other man, slightly younger, was all sharp corners and angles. His name was Cassian.

Neither of them were particularly nice men.

Cassian, bored, reached into his haversack and pulled out a rough book, the kind that could be bought cheaply in Aversol from any number of street vendors. At the sight, Rogar snorted. "Didn't know you could read."

"Of course I can. The Dawning Light liked its initiates to know their letters. I stayed long enough to get the basics down. Then I got bored and left."

"Aye, and with a trail of blood behind you. Plus all the gold you could carry. You never forget your first big score. I sure remember mine."

"You tell that story too often."

"Pah!" Rogar waved a hand. "Not many who've looted a Cathayan caravan. Even fewer who've done it solo."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Anyways, what book is that?"

Cassian showed him the cover. Rogar let out an amused bark.

"The Witch-Queen's Whelp! Those books are written by a mad dog, you know. Absolute lunatic."

"Yeah," Cassian said, "but they sell like hotcakes. Anyone know more about the author?"

"Nothing at all."

"He's got a depraved imagination," Cassian observed admiringly. "Can't imagine how he makes it all up."

Rogar shook his head. "That's because it ain't all made up."

"What! Now that's some nonsense." Cassian waved the book for emphasis. "Alright, maybe there's a girl named Donella out there, someone that the anonymous author was jerking off to back in the day. You choose a sexy name and write the rest of the story around it. But otherwise, the story is pure fantasy! Seriously, the daughter of the Witch-Queen? Travels the land as an outlaw, wearing a black veil across her face and wielding a kickass sword? Accompanied by trained ravens? And -- here's the important bit -- is such a wanton slut that every tale ends with her fucked like a common whore?"

"You don't know the half of it." Rogar stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Stories have a tendency to shift, over time, and there's a real market for cheap smut. But there's a core of truth there. There was such a girl, even if she weren't all that the imperial propaganda said about her. You know they exaggerated a lot to get people in line, keep 'em scared. Donella Emilia von Cale-Enkeyrie. I remember that name from the wanted posters. No real threat to the nobby types, but they made her out to be every bit as dangerous as her lineage, even though she weren't never more than an up-jumped outlaw, I tell you."

His companion looked skeptical.

"And the sex stuff, all that was legit."

"Oh, come on."

"It's the truth."

"And how would you know?"

Rogar smiled wickedly. "First-hand experience."

Cassian still looked skeptical. "Look, if there's a story behind this..."

"Oh, there is. It was back when I was working for Count Mikkelson. He's dead now, of course. There were all kinds of people looking to steal from him, 'cause he was richer than shit. And this one time, we catch a wannabe thief, and what do you know? It's a girl."

"You mean-"

"Of course it was her, idiot, quit interrupting. So we rough her up a little bit, not anything serious, just enough to teach her not to come 'round there no more. Then someone recognized her from the wanted posters. Talk about winning a sweepstakes. Could've turned her in for the bounty, right? Getting money out of prisoners is usually a complete roll of the dice. Though it's easier for pretty ones."

"There's always the Dreadsea Coast-"

"Back in those days, the operation there hadn't been set up quite so well. And I told you not to interrupt. Now, the other lucky thing was, everyone knew what the nobs said. Donella Emilia von Cale-Enkeyrie was a dangerous outlaw and a traitor to the empire. That meant we could do whatever the fuck we wanted with her. And it was legal, too! We'd had to bribe a bunch of guys to look the other way, before. Now we could do it and maybe they'd even give us a bonus." Rogar snorted. "Pfah. Those were the good times. You lot don't know how good we had it."

"So what did you do?" Cassian asked.

"Well, we weren't gonna be too rough with her. Gotta keep her in one piece for the bounty. I mean, we may have smacked her up some, but that was just business. Once we knew who she was, we got her clothes off, too. Damn, she was something. Nice and toned, just how I like 'em. I think we must've shoved her to the ground, got someone to hold her down. Then that Akir fellow, I forget his name, he discovers something real interesting about our prisoner."

"Yeah?"

"She was real fuckin' ticklish."

"You don't say."

"I mean, it was hilarious. Sort of a tough bitch who could take a real pounding, you know, but holy fuck, she started begging real fast once we figured it out. Like, you would not believe how fast this girl drops the facade. You didn't even have to touch her, you could make like you were going for her ribs and she'd shriek like a maniac. Stand there wiggling your fingers and watch her go into hysterics. It was so fucking funny."

Cassian raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have started by screwing her."

"Oh, we got to that. Eventually. But some of the guys, they wanted to see her cry, first. And it wouldn't even leave a mark, what we were doing. So we did that for a little while. It helped that we wanted to tire her out a bit so she wouldn't fight back so hard. The funniest bit, though, is how she was trying to negotiate. I remember that part the best." Rogar leaned back, savoring the memory. "She was all like 'please stop! I'll suck your cocks!' and one of the guys was just like 'oh, you will.' And then we tickled her some more. Let me tell you, I've never had more fun."

"Please tell me you actually screwed her after fucking around like a bunch of-"

"What do I look like, some kind of idiot? Yeah, we fucked her alright. That tight little ass of hers was bouncing on so many cocks. Me, I never went for that sort of thing. I had them hold her down while I took her pussy. It was the best. Especially since, these girls, what you do is you get inside her, then you tickle her under her arms, and her pussy squeezes you completely involuntarily. True story. I wasn't the only one to cum inside her, just the first. We fucked her like we were trying to sire bastards."

"Wait, that doesn't make sense." Cassian flipped through his book. "It says here that she had some sort of magical chastity belt to keep her protected. That's why she keeps giving blowjobs or getting fucked in the ass, never in her pussy. It's a pretty critical part of her lore."

"Hey, who do you fucking believe? Me, or the book?"

Cassian smirked. "Honestly? The book."

"Yeah, fuck you too. Anyways, we fucked her up one way and down the other. She just about passed out by the end of it, we had to slap her face a couple times to wake her up. I don't like fucking girls that have gone limp, you know. And she kept fighting for a real long time. So anyways, after we were done, we leave that Akir guy to keep an eye on her while the rest of us go to find where to collect the bounty. And you never would guess what happened."

"She escaped."

"Of course she did! I was beside myself, should've thought to leave more than one guard, but she was completely spent, you know? We come back and she's cut the poor bastard's throat, collected her things, and just vanished. Into thin air. Gone, just like that."

Cassian shrugged. "Well, at least you got a fun story out of it."

"Yeah, could've retired to a nice little cottage with a dozen slutty neko maids, but at least there's the fucking story." Rogar shook his head. "That's life, y'know. Sometimes you have a great run of luck, and then it ends, because you can't be too lucky for so long."

They sat in silence for awhile.

"Hey," Cassian said, "you could write this shit down. There's like twenty versions of The Witch-Queen's Whelp being sold, maybe you could make twenty-one."

"What do I look like, some kind of fuckin' wordsmith?"