One Hundred Tears Ch. 01

I would like to thank the lovely younghrted2 and TRCII for being my second set of eyes and helping with the edits. <3

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Peaches grew above, dangling from their branches. The morning sun flickered through the leaves, illuminating the little orange spheres. A smile adorned my face as I picked the strawberries below. The garden was coming together for the yearly harvest. Closer to the hovel I dwelled in, lilacs, lilies, roses, rested in the smaller flower beds, coloring the otherwise normal-looking melding of trees.

A roof over my head and a place to rest were good enough for me, so long as it didn't collapse in the rain. In the early days of my new freedom, I'd become very reliant on my gift to guide me. The house was but the first among many things my powers provided. With a roof over my head, I went about decorating a little. Some of the comforts of a home that I missed. A couple of tables, a hollow carved into one of the walls making a stone fire pit, and a bed. Making the others was easy, but the bed was complex and took me many tries until I got something decently comfortable to lie in.

Calling on my power for so long usually left me quite drained. When I was a child, my father saw me as a mystic, a healer of our people. He tried to exploit it, exploit me, but when I proved unsatisfactory, he punished me... badly. I still carried some of the scars from those harsh lessons. What my father never realized was that I wasn't a mystic at all. Yes, you could say my gifts had the potential to heal, only at a much slower pace. Instead, I had been born with the gifts of the forest; a dradic. The humans used a strange word for people like me that I happened to prefer more. Druid just sounded better in my head.

After running away, life was hard. I was much more used to being pampered and taken care of. Now that I was on my own, fending for my survival, I often had to push myself to complete the necessary tasks. I'd never worked so hard in my life before. In every way I had been a princess since the day I was born, and in the past, I'd often ignored such simplicities as farming and crafting. Now this glen, my hole in the woods, and the farm I formed for myself were my life. I learned to want for little and appreciated the calm serenity this existence now offered. Swimming in the river, caring for the land, and singing with the birds; all of it made me content and happy. A sharp contrast to the dark past I ran from.

Shaking away somber thoughts, I returned to the task at hand, harvesting. As I picked a few of the riper berries from their vines, I looked them over for infections that the bugs might have left behind. The reaping was moving along splendidly as I jumped from shrub to shrub. With a basket full of berries, I stood to return to my little haven in the forest. I would have to return in a few days to plant new seed for next year's harvest.

Fruit and vegetables had grown easily for me, after a few lessons from the land. Forest creatures, such as deer, gana, and burtalo, stayed clear of me, leaving me to rely on the land itself for food. Or maybe they sensed what I was and respected my connection to life, so they gave me a wide berth. Not that I was well-equipped to handle taking down and carving up such animals, anyway. On rare occasions, I would try hunting outside of my wards for smaller game. I managed to snare rabbits mostly, and fish were caught on a good day at the river. Once I managed to capture a fox. I had to make a stone tool, which wasn't easy, to carve the now dead animal. Its fur had been hard to handle, especially with the complete lack of experience I had, but eventually it became the soft blanket that warmed me during cold nights.

It certainly wasn't easy, farming the natural fruits and vegetables of the land, adjusting to the new status quo of my life. I remembered the first harvest, almost four decades ago. My porcelain skin was sheening with a slick layer of sweat, raven locks splayed messily over my face every time I leaned over. I was quite the mess. But I pushed myself, I had to. And by the time the next harvest came it got easier. Eventually, I got to the point where it wasn't that big of a burden anymore.

The once demure little princess in her tower, turned into a farmer. I laughed at the idea as I stepped past the open portal of my home. It wasn't so much a door, but moss and vines draping over the entrance. I didn't need to have them, but it just felt normal-ish to me.

One of the lucky boons when I first came here was how scarce the humans were. They were dark creatures, capable of great evils. Humans rarely came out this deep into the forest. Those who did were hunters, in search of rare game. I steered clear of them when I had to travel outside of my glens. Later on, towards my fifth year here, the hunters were edging too close for comfort. I went about placing elven wards around the perimeter of my home, then a second set farther out, to keep them from getting close to finding a lone elf girl, barely matured, living out here on her own. The hunters wisely avoided my land after that. Occasionally, a deer or a satyr would come to nip and graze on the edge of the wards. Satyrs weren't exactly talkative but the demi-humans made me less lonely.

One in particular, named Brutis, made an effort to befriend me. He brought me gifts, such as proper tools to farm, flowers and crowns of vine and roses. I'd giggled at the kind gestures and blushed when he teased me. He was nice and I missed him dearly. One of the hunting parties had killed him for helping a rare breed escape the humans.

I forced myself to stop thinking about the past, driving myself to focus on what I needed to accomplish today. Dipping my harvested berries into the bucket of water, I'd smartly learned to procure before picking, I cleaned away any dirt or grime. When the berries were clean and safe to eat, I placed them in a mud bowl that I had baked to store some of my fruits and vegetables. Preserving the fruit had been a difficult task. Usually, I had made wards to slow their aging and keep out the climate. They were still fresh but the wards took time to build around each bowl.

When I finished sealing away my harvest, I snatched up a lovely looking peach I'd left for myself. The firm peach filled my small, graceful hands. As I held the delicious fruit, I figured today seemed as good a day as any to eat out in the glen. I took a bite of the tart globe, the flavor exploding in my mouth sweetly as I walked back into the forest. The trees, splotches of varying shades, greeted me in the whistling wind. I smiled at the familiar oaks and willows. Their hellos were whispers, carried on the wind to my ears. In turn, I bowed my head respectfully in greeting.

Travelling deeper into the glen, something was different. At first, I couldn't place what was wrong until a small sound on the edge of my hearing alerted me. Immediately, I sensed something was off. A presence lingered on the edge of the wards I'd set up. But this presence was perplexing. The defenses I left around the glens were farther out, maybe an hour of riding, and yet there was a second, much-closer disturbance that practically lingered around my senses.

I scanned the loosely-gathered trees. Surely there was nowhere he could hide from my sight. I opened my mind to the forest, seeking its aid and found only silence. My senses were screaming at me to flee back to the hovel, tighten the wards, and hide until whatever this was had vanished. I backed away on the path which I came, very slowly, minding my surroundings carefully. That was until I bumped into a hard surface that felt nothing like a tree. It was a man's chest.

Spinning around and jumping back a step, the forest begging to be used in my defense, I studied the man. Pointed ears jutted out from curly blonde hair. It was short, but the curls were still there. My eyes locked with his. The pools of venomous green were terrifying, and I yielded a step under their pressing gaze. He didn't waste a beat taking that step forward.

Thin lips curved into a grin. A small scar, likely from a knife, nicked his otherwise perfect face on the left cheek. Even with the imperfection, the male was handsome, and considerably taller than I. His chin rested at what would be just about eye level on my face. Corded muscle strained against the tight brown leathers he wore like armor. He wasn't barbaric or massive, but definitely a warrior type.

"Joviemao, Petrimoev."

His voice, deep and rumbly, was oddly soothing in the way a female would find comfort in their mate. Almost similar to the firm, stone feel of his body. Despite that, his tone was playful. As I sat on my haunches, ready to turn and run at a moment's notice, I caught a glimpse of something...primal in the greens of his eyes. Under the scrutiny of his gaze, I felt like prey. Hairs rose on the back of my neck and if that wasn't enough of a sign to run, then the advancing several confident strides he took toward me was.

I turned on my heels, bolting off into the forest but he was quicker. Strong arms encircled my narrow waist, pulling me against that strong body as I lost my grip on the peach I'd torn into, the succulent fruit plopping on the ground as I fought against his tight embrace. My arms were pinned to my sides, as I thrashed and screamed. Roots of the ground almost lashed out in my panic. It was only with a moment to spare that I took proper control and buried the power deep down. Should I need to, my magic would be the trump card for my flight.

"Careful," the man whispered soothingly. "I wouldn't want you hurting yourself."

His grip tightened around me, and I understood the unspoken meaning. Resistance meant pain. I stilled quickly, trying to keep my breathing even. I was so very compromised like this. My mind raced with the countless scenarios of what he wanted, what I could do to escape and so much more. It was a strain to keep my body outwardly calm as thoughts formed quicker than light travels. Digging deep, I found the courage to speak.

"How...how did you get in here?" I asked smoothly, though there was a small hint of fear in my voice.

"Whoever taught you defense magic should be ashamed. It was easy for me to cut through your wards," he answered with a light chuckle. "For a time, I thought the wards were a trap to warn of intruders and not keep them out. But you didn't react much to the decoy I left behind as a distraction. Besides, I think you have more pressing concerns if a male can break in and get so close to you, Petrimoev."

Shivers ran up and down my spine. There was no hiding the palpable fear that boiled under the surface of my skin. His face leaned in closer to my ear. I could hear the steady rate of his breath as he sniffed my hair. Those shivers turned into trembling, which he found deeply amusing. This was not the type of man I could beg or barter with. What he sought was something I'd never give up. I doubted he cared about that; he'd take it anyway, given even the slightest opening.

"What do you want?" I asked, careful to hide any emotion or tells from the words.

"You're a hard woman to find, Morganna."

My body went rigid in a whole different way upon hearing my own name for the first time in forty years. This wasn't a random invasion. Worse off, he knew—knew who I was, and what I was. I gulped loudly, earning me a chuckle from him. Being held so close to him, I felt the rumble before I heard the sound. The laugh had come from so deep in his gut, stirring my insides. This time when the forest reacted to my discomfort, I let it go unchecked too stunned to stop it.

Vines lashed out at his arms that encircled me, and with expert precision, cut flesh until I was free. Falling to earthy floor, I broke into a sprint, leaving my power to fend for itself. The forest was always with me, ready at a moment's notice to fight for me. That doesn't, however, stop the feelings of guilt that rise in me. I should be fighting alongside my power, not running away while it distracts my attacker. I wept silent tears thinking of the weak plants dying to protect me.

I was about halfway back to my cabin when I wondered if perhaps my vines subdued the man or not. It was unlikely. Returning to my cabin was all I knew, but when I got there, what would I do? It's not like I could keep him locked out. And staying in there, even with all that food, wasn't an option.

My momentary indecision on how to proceed now that I escaped that tightening grip, cost me. His arms wrapped around me again and the fight for control resumed. I could hear the raging growl that erupted from his throat. It almost killed all the fight in me. Warm trickles of blood oozed from his arms where the vines had cut him, but they were shallow wounds and would heal quickly.

"That wasn't very nice y'know."

"I don't care what you think is nice!"

Battling against his hold may have been the dumbest idea I've ever had. In my thrashing, or his attempt to control me, my head collided with a tree. I may have been free of his hold with that little stunt. Though, as I staggered back until I was leaning on the sturdy wood. The world spun, flashes of light sparkled in my eyes and there was a warm but wet sensation coming from my temple. I tried to shake it off, but the voice behind me was frantic. What the hell was this guy's deal, anyway?

More time went by, the warm trickle growing, and my vision was fading. I couldn't hear my attacker anymore. It was only the return of his grip that kept me aware that he was still here. My senses were quickly becoming dulled. Fear settled in my body for the first time. This was not the time to black out. Despite my resistance, the darkness consumed me, pushing me into a dreamless sleep as my body fell limply to the ground.

Burnt wood and roasted carrots, a scent I'd become plenty familiar with, woke me from my rest. My head was throbbing, every part of me felt heavier than metal. Hearing came back to me first, the crackle of a fire filling my ears. A hearth. Mine? Maybe that encounter was a messy nightmare. It had felt so real, but that wouldn't be the first time I had a vivid nightmare.

Feeling returned next. My wrists felt constricted. Bound maybe? Something scratchy had been circled around them. Blinking a few times, I forced my eyes open. The dim light was a blunt change from the pitch-black void of sleep and took some time to adjust to. Though, I think I preferred the darkness to my current situation.

I looked on in fright as my attacker was cooking my food over the fire. He must have taken me back to my home while I was unconscious. My wrists were bound, resting on my belly, in brown scratchy rope, secured with a knot out of reach of my fingers. It would take time to escape this, but I doubted he would let me manage that. The leathers I was wearing were removed, leaving behind the thin shift I wore underneath. An additional thin cloth rested over my hips, covering my womanhood down to my knees.

The bondage was the least of my concerns. For around my neck, a silver necklace draped with an iron pendant resting between the swells of my chest. I could feel the magic stifling under its touch. A huffer's charm then. Exhaling quietly, I steadied my breathing and wiggled my legs. They weren't bound. I could still run. What good that did last time. I'd need a distraction, and a good one before running again.

"I know you're awake," he said, startling me. The sound of my gasp eclipsed the cackling of wood. "That was very stupid of you, Petrimoev."

"Stop calling me that," I said hoarsely. My bound hands lifted to my head, rubbing against a thick bandage. Wait! Bandaged!? "What the hell did you do!?"

"You were fighting too hard, got loose of my grip and threw yourself into a tree. Hit your head, hard." His voice was calm, so much so that I wondered if we were living in the same moment. No one could be that serene when a kidnap victim was no more than five paces from him. He either was absolutely cocky, or foolishly arrogant to think I was of no threat to him. Bound or not, magic or not, I could still fight. "I brought you back to this poorly made hovel and bandaged your head. I will say, you've come to learn to use your gifts excellently, despite this being one of the ugliest homes I've seen in a while."

"Any chance I can get you to untie me?" I asked, with my sweetest voice.

"You'd run again. Can't have you doing that."

"Course not," I muttered. Taking in a deep breath, I sat up, pushing my back against the wooden walls of my cabin. "Care to tell me why the hell you're in my HOME? Why are you practically kidnapping me? Or are you going to tell me this is all one big, fucked-up misunderstanding?"

"No, I know exactly what I'm doing, Morganna. Were you always this much trouble with your father? Or did you behave?"

"Sod off! That's none of your business." The bastard chuckled at my outburst. "What's so funny!?"

"You already know what's happening, what comes next. You are just afraid to admit it. A natural response to fear."

"I'm not afraid. Especially not of you, Gremnag!"

That got his attention. His head snapped up, our eyes locking. The raw intensity of his stare stripped me bare. It was too much, and I was the first to look away. Stupid girl. I chastised myself repeatedly in my head. He stood up, the creak of the wooden chair telling me as much. I gulped and chanced a peek at him. His expression was a thousand times angrier.

"You think me a monster, Petrimoev?" The coldness in his voice was soul-breaking. I wanted to retreat so far into myself that whatever he did would not find me. Not his words, or actions, nothing. As I tried, he trapped my chin between his fingers, forcing me to gaze into those terrible green eyes. My hands tried pushing him away, but I might as well have been trying to move a mountain. "Answer. Me."

"Yes," I answered through gritted teeth.

And that was the last thing I got to say. His lips claimed mine. The surprising act stunned me into submission. It took seconds for my senses to flood back, for the daze to wear off. As I came back to my senses, it was too late. His weight was over me, body pressed down on me like stones, trapping me beneath him. I tried to squirm, my underclothes having shifted and exposing some of the milky white skin beneath. Despite my protest, that he coincidently swallowed as his tongue invaded my mouth, he was very much in control.

A hand slid under the small of my back, pulling me closer until our bodies were basically melding together. I tried to pull away, to break loose of the grasp he had me so tightly ensnared in. Freedom remained out of my reach, gentle tears sliding down my cheeks as I surrendered to my hellish reality.

Slowly - painfully slowly - he pulled away. He was still no more than a few inches from my swollen lips. Both of us were gulping down air to fill our lungs, but there was a glint in his eye. Absolutely a Gremnag! We laid there for what felt like an eternity, staring into each other's eyes like lovers. Except, I was utterly repulsed by his unwanted affection.

"Still a Gremnag?"

His voice oozed with cockiness. I wiggled my hands free. Trying to strike him with two curled fists, I almost landed a blow. He snatched them up and pinned my bound wrists above my head, preventing any further resistance. His nose dipped a little, grazing my tear-streaked cheek. I felt the brush of his lips on my inflamed skin as he kissed away the tear. He repeated the process on my other side and returned to my lips. I stared furiously into his eyes, as he took such liberties only a lover should.

"Yes! You don't just get to do things like that and —" I spat.

Again, he claimed my lips, cutting off my angry protest. A flush crept up my neck and heated my cheeks. This time I screamed into his throat, biting down on his tongue the moment it tried to sneak past my lips. The Gremnag shot back, scowling at me. His free hand wrapped around my neck, choking me with enough pressure to make breathing hard, but not impossible. It was uncomfortable, but in an erotic way. The type of pain one mixed with pleasure.