Obsession Returned

*** Author's notes

This is currently a one-off story. It has an ending but not a conclusion, and I don't have any ideas in mind for how to continue, but I liked how it started and wanted to share. Just a warning.

Second, there are some made up places/countries that are (in my opinion) pretty obvious analogies for some european places/countries. The events are all fictional and not related to any real-world history.

Finally, this contains non-consensual sex. So don't read it if you don't like that.

Obsession Returned

Six years before:

The chains always held fast, but, at the very least, they were padded. Gerhard had always afforded her that comfort. It did nothing to calm Louise as she tugged fruitlessly at the solid oak bed frame that her shackles were wrapped around. The bedpost rose up some twenty feet to the ceiling, so there was no going over the top. Not that she could have stood up, even if she wanted to. He had also shackled her feet to the opposite bedpost.

From everywhere came the sounds of gunfire. Her countrymen were coming, though she wasn't sure whether to thank the creator for their presence just yet. She had become quite used to gunfire over the past few years, but more recently she had been sheltered from it thanks to Gerhard. It had been a few months since she had last seen an execution in the yard. Since then, it had been silence, an unsteady ceasefire that had finally broken.

Ayes Fort, an eastern fort occupied by the Eutors two and a half years prior was being overrun by the galderans. Her people. Her brethren.

More gunfire sounded from very nearby, just down the hall if she had to guess. Usually it would be Gerhard's footsteps her ears attuned to, or maybe the changing of the guards. She suspected the gunfire had taken down whoever was standing outside the door, guarding a girl who couldn't go anywhere even if she wanted to.

The guns where followed by footsteps and shouting. Orders. She recognized the tone of the barking voices, even if the words were unclear. Doors slammed. They were checking every door. Louise knew that their search would yield nothing. Louise had watched as Gerhard had the rooms cleared out, all the papers burned. The only room he had kept intact was his bedroom, for her sake, he said. Then he had gone out to man the walls of the fortress, promising to return for her no matter what.

That had been a long time ago. Maybe a day or so had gone by. She had urinated through her nightdress and into the mattress twice, only to be strangely grateful that she hadn't felt the need to defecate yet. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but the thirst eclipsed that pain entirely. Until the fire fight had started, she had slowly been coming to terms with the idea that she would die in this room, chained to the bed in her own filth, ignored by the guards she could hear coming and going outside. She knew they all hated her. She was only kept alive at Gerhard's behest.

She would have cried had she not thought to conserve what little water remained.

The door burst open, revealing silhouettes of men cut out of the light from the hallway. The wore long coats and helmets, and she could see gun tips that quickly moved to point at her.

"Arms down!" shouted the leader in galderan, lowering his weapon. He strutted into the room, coming into the weak lamplight that Gerhard had left on the bedside table. He was young, not much older than her, but grim. His eyes were fixed on her at first, then traveled up to the shackles on her wrists. She shivered as they slowly traveled down the length of her body to the shackles on her ankles.

"What do we have here?" asked the second man to come forward. He had a brutish face, eyes filled with malice and a frightening smile on his face. "An eutor whore?"

Louise pressed her arms forward weakly, the chains rattling as she reached for them. A third man joined, his expression curious. He was the youngest of the three. Just a boy.

"Please," she begged. Her voice was a travesty, dry and cracking on every other word. "I'm galderan. They've been keeping me prisoner. Please help me."

The men's faces filled with shock. The young one stepped forward right away, but the brute held his arm out to stop him.

"God above," said the brute. He stepped forward, couching his rifle on his shoulder. His smile had returned. "Not just a whore, but a traitorous whore."

Louise met his gaze, tears starting to well up for the first time in hours. They were painful, stinging her eyes. She stopped reaching out to them. "He forced me," she said. Over and over, even if she had accepted it after a while.

"Oh, I'm sure," said the soldier. He was standing above her now, his hand reaching out to finger the collar of her nightdress, flipping it over to expose some of her breastbone. "And he forced this fine lace on you too, didn't he? You must have been screaming as he pulled them onto you. Am I right, whore?"

She shook her head, screwing her eyes shut in silent denial.

"Disgusting," said the man. "Did you piss yourself, whore? Milton, come here. Put the bitch out of her misery before she can shame her country more."

Her eyes flew open in terror. After everything she had gone through, was this how she would die? Executed at the hands of her countrymen?

Neither of the other two moved. The young one was gripping his rifle with white knuckles, his eyes fixed on her. He was afraid as well.

"Come off it, Sebastian," said the grim one, pushing in front of the brute--Sebastian. He put himself between her and his comrade. "We're not going to kill her. The women and children are being taken to the mess hall. General's orders."

Sebastian huffed a laugh. "You're such a good little boy, Jacks. Always following orders." Louise was looking at him as his gaze fell on her once more. His smile turned into a grin. "Well, even if we aren't going to put her to death for treason, I don't see why we shouldn't punish her for it. She is a pretty whore, isn't she? And I've certainly had dirtier."

Louise' face fell, panic taking over every sense. It was going to happen again. It would never be over. Sebastian was right. She would be a whore for the rest of her life. If not Gerhard's, some other man's. This soldier, or maybe Jacks', or Milton's.

Jacks punched Sebastian square in the face, felling the large man with a single hit. Then he spat on him. "Fuck off, you animal," said Jacks. He turned to her, ignoring her stunned expression as he reached down to inspect the chains on her wrists.

Sebastian was not one to take a hit without response, so the next thing she knew she was wheezing at Jacks, trying to tell him to turn around as the brute landed on top of him. The two soldiers rolled about, exchanging heavy blows with one another as Milton stood by, screaming at them to stop, gripping his useless rifle. Louise watched mouth agape, tears streaming down her cheeks as she prayed to the creator that Jacks would win.

"What is the meaning of this!" a bellowing voice roared. Every eye flew to the doorway, where a new, huge silhouette was blocking out the light from the hallway.

The two soldiers scrambled to pull apart, hopping to their feet and standing at attention, hands to their hearts. Milton had done the same. Louise recognized the deference, if not the gesture. The eutor salute was a closed fist, beaten upon the chest twice to represent the nation's unified heartbeat.

The officer stepped into the light, his eyes on her, widening with concern before flying to Jacks in a fury. "Explain," he said in a harsh voice.

"Sir, we came into the room to search for stray soldiers or documents," said Jacks. "Instead we found this woman. She says she is galderan and has been held prisoner by the eutors. Corporal Sebastian suggested we murder her as punishment for her predicament, and when I put a stop to it, he suggested we rape her instead. I punched him, and he attacked me in retaliation."

Louise couldn't see Sebastian's face, even as he whipped it over to look at his comrade, but she could imagine the rage.

"Calm yourself, soldier," the general barked. His expression was filled with disgust as he looked at his subordinate. Then his gaze shifted to Milton. "Is this true corporal?"

Milton, despite his body shaking violently, managed to nod. His voice was an octave higher than she expected as he confirmed what Jacks had said.

The general turned to Sebastian with a look that would have had her soiling herself again. She noticed the soldier shrug slightly, a protective position for his neck.

"Harold, remove this man from here," said the general. From behind, one of the other silhouettes that had stood spectating stepped forward. He too wore a look of disgust. "Take him to a cell until I can see to him."

"Yes, sir," said Harold. He signaled for aid, and two more men appeared, surrounding the complacent Sebastian and leading him from the room without a fuss.

The general waited for their footsteps to fade down the hall before he looked at her again. She had not seen pity in so long that she almost didn't recognize it. When she realized that he was sympathetic to her plight, she began to cry again.

"You two, dismissed," said the general. "Someone bring an ax to break these bedposts."

Jacks and Milton shuffled out of the room without a word, and she heard more footsteps from the hall. Hopefully someone would be back soon with a saw or ax. She had no idea how they would remove the shackles.

The general approached the bed, moving to the opposite side where Gerhard slept. From there, he pulled the blanket up from the bed and pulled it over to her side, covering her up from neck to feet. It wasn't until that moment that she had realized how cold she was. She shivered as warmth overtook her body, eyes shutting as she relaxed.

Something soft touched her forehead, she she opened her eyes to see the general, on one knee before her. He had brushed his knuckles against her forehead. She saw the glove he had been wearing clutched in his other hand.

"You may have a fever," he said. "I'll have a physick see to you soon. I apologize for my men. You have already been subjected to so much. I am sorry that you had to face such monstrosity from those under my charge. Are you really galderan?"

"Yes," she said, croaking. "I'm from Glovehall."

The general didn't seem to care however. He turned back to the door, snapping his fingers. "Bring water now," he ordered to somebody. He was shaking his head as he faced her. "How long have you been tied here?"

"Since you began the attack on the fortress," she said.

A soldier rushed to the general's side with a canteen of water, and he wasted no time in opening it, and pressing it to her lips. Louise drank greedily, not caring when some of it dribbled down her cheek. It felt so good, tasted better than anything she had ever tasted in her entire life. Water. She was going to live.

"That was more than two days ago," said the general. She could hear the pity in his voice. "Why did they chain you up?"

Louise was still drinking water and took a few more moments to answer his question. When she had had her fill, she released the canteen with a gasp, sighing with relief. Tears were still falling down her cheeks.

"He--he wanted me to remain loyal," she said. "I used to try to run away, and he didn't want me going back to my old ways."

The general looked away for a moment, a pained expression on his face. "By 'he', are you referring to Gerhard Erle? Are these his rooms?"

"Yes," she said, tears stinging her eyes as she met his gaze. "Did you kill him?"

Her hope died as the general's face fell. "No. We have not been able to find him. He and the officers manning this fortress have escaped."

He turned instantly to hushing her, as her face screwed up in anguish. She couldn't help the gasping sobs that escaped her sore throat as she cried. He brushed her hair out of her face so it wouldn't stick to her wet cheeks, whispering reassurances of safety to her.

He held the canteen to her for more water, which she drank between huge breaths, trying her best to calm down.

"You are home," said the general. "Your war is over. We've driven them out of Galder. You are safe. I will make sure of it, as my apology to you on behalf of my men. Tell me your name, girl. I will help you return to Glovehall and your family."

Louise looked up at him, her dwindling hope rekindling. "Louise," she said. The general cocked his head to one side, his eyes wide. It wasn't a typical galderan name, but her mother had been from Lages. "Durham."

The man's jaw had gone slack. "Louise," he repeated. "The daughter of Doctor Edward Durham?" Louise's mind stopped working. She didn't even nod, but he knew her. He knew her father. "Do you not remember me? Maxwell Forthym."

Her mouth trembled. She didn't remember him, but she remembered the name. "Uncle Max?"

She reached for him, this man who was her father's best friend and schoolmate. She had known him as a child, more than fourteen years ago. She hadn't remembered what he looked like, but she remembered his name.

The shackles stopped her progress, chains rattling, sending her into tears.

"Dear God," he said, grasping her hands, encompassing them. "Louise, how did you wind up in this mess?"

She grabbed at his hand, squeezing it with what little strength remained. "I was visiting my cousins in town when they invaded. Is Father well? Have you heard from him?"

"I have not, but as soon as we have settled and you are well, we will try to contact him. We are reinstating the telegram systems to Edgemont. We can have a message sent to him this very evening."

Louise nodded, her lips curling back into a grimace, pain and joy warring within her. "Thank God," she cried. "Thank God you found me. I was so scared."

He hushed her again, stroking her head. It reminded her of her father. "Everything is going to be alright. I'm going to bring you home."

She kept mumbling her thanks to the creator, and when they freed her from the bed, she fell to her knees before Uncle Max. His arms encircled her, drawing her close for a moment before he lifted her up into the air, blanket and all.

It only lasted for a moment, but as he carried her away the feeling was so familiar to her. She closed her eyes and it very well could have been Gerhard, reclaiming her already.

She shuddered and opened her eyes, focusing on Uncle Max's face to dispel the shadows.

It was of no use though. She could still hear Gerhard's voice, his words ringing in her head as he had chained her up two days prior. He had kissed her gently on the lips, breathing in as he always did. He had smiled at her, his face so handsome, yet wicked, promising all sorts of horrible things.

Gerhard had whispered, his low voice like a purr, "I will be back, my love. You belong to me, and I to you. I will come back for you no matter what."

Her stomach clenched, tied up in knots, as it always was when it came to him. She looked up at Uncle Max for comfort, and he smiled down at her, so sure that she was going to be alright. Louise sighed, relaxing into his arms, hoping that he was right.

One:

Every row in the concert hall was occupied. The tickets had cost a large sum of money, and though he had been more than willing to spend it, Gerhard was shocked by it. He had never known his Louise could play the clavier so well as to sell out an entire hall in Denn Farthing.

He smiled as he sat in the terrible row he had chosen on purpose. It would not do to have her see him tonight.

The stage was set, the clavier arranged neatly in the center. Its glossy wood was made of marbled ebony or walnut. It was a fine instrument. Worthy of her, he was sure. The gilded stage and red curtains were lit up and shining with light.

The people in the orchestra section were abuzz with excitement. The galderans were dressed to the tee tonight. Gerhard matched, his black coattails ironed expertly by his valet, his shirt crisp and white. He hated these fanciful lagais clothes. They had become fashionable in Eutorland throughout his lifetime as well, but he had never liked them. He felt like he couldn't move, readjusting his seat a few times in the minutes leading up to the performance.

It served him well to dress up though. No one would ever suspect who he was unless he started speaking in eutor. As it stood, his galderan friends were quite convinced that his mild accent was lagais anyway, so the tails made even more sense.

A shift in sound brought his attention to the stage. The audience fell slowly into silence moving backwards, as if the people in the front knew something the rest of them didn't. The hush swept over them quickly, and Gerhard sat up straight, leaning forward. He held his breath, searching the wings of the stage for her entrance.

His love walked in on careless feet, drifting to the center of the stage with a smile on her face. She wore very little make-up, from what he could tell, but her cheeks were flushed with light blush. Her hair was tied back, an intricate bun pinned atop her thick brown hair There was a violet pinned beside the bun, the vivid purple so velvety and stark. Her long skirt was forest green in color, a pleated, airy material that brushed the floor, drifting behind her as she moved. It cinched tightly at her slim waist, accentuating her small breasts under the crisp off-white shirt she wore. He could make out light lavender embroidery on her buttoned collar and cuffs, an elegant and subtle accent that allowed her main accoutrement to shine.

Around her neck, a princess necklace made of some dark metal--Gerhard suspected bronze. From the main chain, three purple pendants hung, two smaller ones flanking the larger middle one. Amethysts to go with the lavender. They were set in bronze, chains drooping beneath them to create a tiered effect. The jewelry draped upon her sternum, creating a dazzling effect. His eyes were drawn to the center jewel.

The applause had begun as soon as she appeared, but Gerhard didn't join in until he had gotten a good look at her. Six years was a long time to wait, but this had been worth it. She clasped her hands in front of her and bowed to the audience as women performers did these days instead of curtsying. He imagined she was bowing to him.

Louise rose, her smile even more dazzling now. The clapping seemed to roil as she turned towards the clavier. The bench had already been set at the right height and distance from the instrument. All she had to do was take her seat, sweeping her skirts out to fan artistically around the bench.

She waited a few moments before lifting her hands to the keys. He could see the delicacy of her long fingers, even from far away. It was nothing he had ever noticed when he had kept her locked in his quarters in the Ayes Fort. He had never felt guilty about taking her for himself--he needed her, and she needed him--but for the first time he was lamenting how little he had appreciated her at the time. It was only in the desolation and chaos of his country's downfall that he realized how much he truly loved her. When he had her back, he would make sure to learn everything about her, inside and out.

The first sound was a single note, not a chord. He hadn't looked at his program when the lights were still up, so he had no idea who the composer was, but the melody was simple at first, melancholy and slightly eastern to his ears, something that could have been a line from a song for children. He suspected it was by a rourkan composer, but he wouldn't stake anything on his guess. The first chord came in along with a twittering ornamentation to interrupt the melody for a moment before it returned, somber and empty in comparison to the faster notes.

The line of melody continued in that way, constantly interrupted by pretty, tittering notes for half a minute before the steady four beat left hand came in to stabilize things. Louise played the same melody over again, this time uninterrupted expanding upon it into a full song. It was a simple piece, pretty, but somewhat plodding. Gerhard didn't quite understand why it was appropriate for such a grand concert.