Queen Yavara Ch. 50

How could she not know? It was so easy to abandon all dignity in the heat of such degradation. What else was I supposed to do? Pride meant nothing anymore. All that mattered, was the beast within me. Not the literal beasts that bored into my holes, but the monster that teemed beneath my very flesh, the whore that reveled in the depraved and horrific. The teenage girl who had fucked her father so many years ago. The woman who had raped and tortured her own mother. The lover who had tamed an Alkandran hybrid. I could dominate with my submission, command with my slavery, and destroy with my surrender. I didn't need dark flesh and magic to be a dangerous lover; I just needed my cunt, ass and mouth. I gave it to them all day. I gave them my everything. They tried to break me, they tried to ruin me, they tried to bring me low, but they couldn't, because I was already there.

ELENA

Jonias had put a perception spell on the both of us to get us past the city watch, and into the merchant district. She was disguised as an older woman, and I was disguised as her chair-bound husband. She led the way as I wheeled myself down busy roads, which were now renewed with commerce since the war was over. We ended up at a tavern that had no name. Once inside, she took the perception spell off herself, but only changed mine. When I looked into the glass, I nearly yelped when I saw myself. I was me again. No... I was who I had been; a high-elf girl of just over nineteen years; my skin as pale as snow, my nose and cheeks smattered with freckles. It was amazing how something as simple as skin color could change everything about a woman's appearance. Though my bone-structure was the same, my features seemed much softer, less severe and undramatic. I turned my face this way and that, hardly recognizing the woman who looked back at me.

"Hmm. I almost forgot how much you looked like your mother." Jonias mused.

"Don't say that." I scowled.

"And why not?" came a familiar, indignant voice. I whipped my head around to see—well, who else would it be? Mother sat alone in the corner of the tavern, smiling a small smile. I gawked at her, then stood up, and immediately fell face-first into a table. I smacked my head on the table top, and was knocked out cold.

ADRIANNA

The old mining village was but a dot on the late afternoon horizon. The rebel army moved through the barren snow-covered fields, a long column of loosely-held formations. I led the column beside Esmerelda, both of us bestriding fantastic horses. The raids of the noble's estates had leant the outfit the finest steeds in the land, and even the lowliest of the rebels rode a horse that was worth more than their entire village. It would take three days to get to Bentius, and I imagined most of it would be done in silence. Esmerelda didn't seem too keen on talking to me, and I felt like I'd said all I needed to say to her. We trotted along the dirt paths between the prairies, the Western Sea buffeting us with its wintery gales. It howled eerily with the wind, and the sound seemed to carry high into the sky, changing pitch to create discordant harmonies. Every once in a while, we were misted by the death of a mighty wave, and the salty water filled our nostrils and planted grit into our hair. It was not a pleasant way to journey, but the royal scouts were watching the inland areas, and we needed surprise on our side.

"Stop." Esmerelda said.

I halted my horse, and gave her a questioning look. Her head was tilted to the side, her keen blue eyes searching the eastern horizon.

"What?" I asked.

She held up one finger, her eyes narrowing. "Have you heard of the Night Wolf?"

"No."

"He is a beast that snuck over the Knife River at night. They say he is so terrible, that the Dark Queen exiled him." She scanned the ridgeline, "He is a warg-rider, a pack-leader of nightmares, and his wolves feast upon the flesh of women and children. His packs have been prowling around our base, preying on our own scouting parties. After one of my scouts returned without any of the others, I dared not send out anymore. She told me what they did; death is a mercy with him."

I rolled my eyes. "Gorlok."

Her gaze shot to me. "You know this creature?"

I snorted. "Know him? I poisoned his dog kennels, killed his second-born son, and burned his homestead to the ground three times, and that was only when I was a ranger. As governess, I fucked all of his daughters."

Esmerelda blinked at me. "I can't believe I put you in charge of my army."

"Neither can I." I chuckled, examining the ridgeline. It was impossible to see anything through the mist and snow, but I thought there might've been a shadow that paced slowly above. "How many does he have?" I asked her.

"At least a hundred, maybe more."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to peer through the haze. There was nothing to see, but I knew it wasn't so. The hairs on my neck were standing high, and I felt the unmistakable prickle of prey-fear crawling up my back.

"Well?" Esmerelda asked.

"They're following us." I murmured, "A scout is shadowing our movements, waiting for us to make camp. They'll strike tonight."

She let out a long breath through her nose. "We don't stand a chance against them, Adrianna."

"I know," I smiled, showing the hint of my fangs, "that's why you hired me, isn't it?"

"It will only take half of them for us to be slaughtered. Even you can't kill them all."

"You don't know orcs, Esmerelda," I said, spurring my horse forward, "I'll only need to kill one. Make camp on the beach, and put your backs to the sea."

"Where are you going?!" she yelled after me.

I trotted up the ridge, and into the fog. "Hunting!" I yelled behind me.

ELENA

When I came to, Mother was frowning above me, her face lined with concern. "All that ranger training, and you can't even get out of a chair without knocking yourself out," she muttered, "go figure."

"Nice to see you too, Mom." I grumbled, and struggled upright in my chair. Jonias's magic shrank the welt I was forming above my left eye, and pulled some of the grogginess from my mind. I was seated in the corner of the tavern, the shadows concealing us from the sunlit foyer. Mother was wearing common clothing, though she kept on her lavish jewelry, which rather made the attempt at subterfuge a waste.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

She raised her brows. "Helping you become queen, of course."

"But... why?"

"Because you are the rightful heir. Lucas Ternias's coup makes him an invalid. The proper transfers of power must be respected."

"Ah, of course." I mumbled, and adjusted the fork atop my napkin. Her hand rested atop mine, and I raised my eyes to meet her gaze.

"I heard about what you did to save Queen Tiadoa," she said, "very few people would've done that." She beamed at me, "I'm so proud of you."

I blinked back at her. "Is that all it took? After all this time, all I had to do was die?"

"Anyways." Jonias interjected loudly, "We're here to discuss our plans for ousting the despot. We have only four days before the army comes back, and—"

"I fucked Leveria." I said to Mom.

Her perfectly-plucked brows raised another fraction. "What was that?"

"ANYWAYS!" Jonias growled, "Lady Straltaira has numerous connections with the artist guilds, due to her generous patronage. She's already agreed to leverage them to begin graffiti campaigns in the lower wards. The reason that we're here now, is to coordinate with some of the local shop owners to—"

"She told you I was her secret agent, right?" I growled across the table, ignoring Jonias, "Sent out to gain the favor of the enemy? Well, that's not exactly how it went down. See—"

"Elena, could you shut your fucking mouth for—"

"—see, I was sent out to find Yavara by King Tiadoa, Mom, not his daughter; did you forget that? This was back when she went missing, remember? Well, I found her. I found her, and she fucked me, and I transformed into a cock-wielding dyke, and I was me for the first time in my fucking life!" I slammed the table with my palm, and Mother flinched. "I wasn't some Highland agent. All it took for me to betray my country was for Yavara to suck my cock! After that, I was onboard one-hundred-percent. I was Team Alkandra's number-one cheerleader, and I got right to doing what Alkandrans do best. I fucked the filthiest whores, and I got fucked by the biggest studs west of the Knife River. Oh, the things I did, Mom. I've been fucked so hard that my insides came out, and I've come so violently that I pissed all over my face!"

"Elena, shut the—"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT YOUR QUEEN, CATHEREINE!" I roared, then snatched the knife from the table, and pointed it at my stunned mother. "But where was I? Oh yes, I was talking about how I fucked the queen of the Highlands! You see, she had me captured, then she tortured me for a little while—because you know, Leveria's such a fucking peach—then she raped me, then she tortured me again, then I bit her tongue out, then she offered me a job. And why did I accept that offer? Well, because if I didn't, she was going to fucking kill you!" I drove the knife into the table, "And then you know what happened?! We fell in love! That's right! While you were taking orders from Leveria, I was filling her royal cunt with my fuck-juice until she was overflowing! How noble she was, how proper and stoic, how elegant and prim. Truly, a model traditionalist who would uphold the sanctity and dignity of the crown. Well, until she was gurgling my fuck-stick after a sweaty bout of ass-fucking! Or until she was cutting off the pieces of a prisoner while he screamed for mercy, but besides all that, she was truly the posterchild for elven propriety; someone to look up to; someone you wished was your daughter."

I twisted the knife into the table. "I died for that woman. You don't even know who she is. You don't even know who I am, but I'm done hiding from you. Now, do you still want me to be your queen?"

Mother mouthed silently; her face pale, her eyes wide. Finally, her lips formed a word. "Yes." Then she stood up sharply, and left. I watched her walk away, nearly as dumfounded as she was.

"So... you were actually an Alkandran traitor the whole time." Jonias mused, "I fucking knew it. I told Lucas, 'that Straltaira bitch isn't that good a liar,' but he wouldn't believe me. Well, anyway," she sighed, "I guess it doesn't matter much now. The war is over, and we didn't win." She glanced up at me, "Was that tantrum at least cathartic for you, you spoiled brat?"

"Immensely." I muttered.

"And all that stuff about Leveria... was that all true?"

I nodded.

Jonias screwed up her lips, and puzzled over it. "Well, she's dead now. Anyway, your mother snuck twenty-two bannermen into the city with her, so that brings our numbers to seventy-one. I already have the painters making propaganda posters and the musicians writing ballads that sing of... well, not the truth, obviously, but... a flattering version of it. Your name will begin to spread like a virus soon." She sipped her tea, "Herpes would seem apropos."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Just remember what you owe me, Elena." She said coolly, and slid the check over to me.

YAVARA

The day's festivities were over, and Leveria had been dragged to her cell in the bottom of the arena, where she would be given the night to recover as best she could. I'd toyed with the idea of depriving her of sleep, but I'd known first-hand how it dulled the senses in even the most extreme of circumstances, and I wanted her to be alert. Lucidity made it all so much more visceral. It was why I was very glad to be drunk when Furia told me what she had to say.

"Brock went peacefully," she said, wiping her eyes. "Most people would count themselves lucky to die how he did. I never knew him, but I could tell, you know. When Adrianna—" she caught herself, and more tears threatened her eyes.

Brock. April. Two lives I'd thrown together through my hatred of one man, now both dead to save him—or her. Now she was dead too. I thought Brock had been dead to me, but just knowing he wandered the earth was a comfort in its own right. He hadn't even lasted a week after my abandonment. I rubbed Furia's shoulder, vaguely aware of how numb everything suddenly felt. "Go on," I whispered.

"When... Adri- when Adria- when Adrianna talked about him, she did it with begrudging respect. I don't know. She didn't hate him like I thought she should've. I'm sorry, Your Highness, I shouldn't speak ill of the dead," her brow furrowed, "or well of traitors."

I pulled her tighter, tears running down my cheeks. "The only thing you shouldn't speak, are the words 'Your Highness.' How many times, Furia?"

"I'm sorry... Yavara." She sniffed.

"I don't need you to hate Adrianna. I understand what it's like to love someone even after you know you shouldn't. You're not betraying me by loving her memory."

"I'm betraying Alexa." Furia hissed, "All the others hate her... Eva especially, and oh god, Faltia! When Zander told her... the look on her face! Yavara, I should hate Adrianna just for that look! I've never seen someone die so much inside!" She balled her fists in my skirt, "I should hate someone that evil."

"No." I whispered, bringing her to my bosom, "She was not evil. She was honorable and good, and that's what makes it hurt." I planted a kiss atop her head, and felt her tears wetting my breasts. "Brock was not a good man, but he was honorable in his own way. I am not honorable, Furia. I am not good. I am pure evil."

"No, you're not."

"I am." I sniffled, "I wish I wasn't. God, I wish I wasn't, but it's long-past time pretending that I was ever anything else." I held her tighter, needing her grief, needing someone to share in mine. "My sins are beyond the counting, and I'm just getting started."

Furia touched me gently on the cheek. "I know you can change. I've seen it with my own eyes." Her fingers trailed to my lips, and stayed there. "The wars are over, and the atrocities have been written. After Leveria has been punished, what will you do?"

"I don't know." I whispered, "Looking at my future is like looking at a hole. So many people were supposed to be there, and now they're just... gone."

"I'll be there," she said softly, "Eva will be there, Faltia will be there, Soraya will be there, Kiera will be there, and Brianna will be there." She traced her fingers down my chin, down my neck, and rested them over my heart. "You are not evil, Yavara. The difference between love and hate can be as simple as forgiveness."

I took her head in my hands, and tilted it so that her face was inches from mine. "I forgave Thomas Adarian. I will never forgive Adrianna."

Tears cascaded down her cheeks, but she managed to nod. We kissed then, long and passionately, and our hands moved beneath each other's clothes to explore the other's body. When she was sated, she rested in my arms for a while. I held her tightly. I held her too tightly. She peeled herself from me, and left me alone in the night.

It was strange how easily hate could turn to love. They weren't that far apart, really; it was familiarity that was the secret ingredient. I had hated Adrianna, but I had known and understood her, and she had known and understood me, and that familiarity had turned my hate to love. I knew she didn't feel the same for me, but there was a closeness, an intimacy of souls bound by our interwoven pasts. I did not have that same bind with the others. I had relied on Adrianna to be my bridge to them, and now that that bridge was gone, I could keenly feel the space between them and I. I wondered if I could ever build a bridge to span it, but I had the terrible feeling that space would only grow wider with time. In that moment, I hated Zander for doing what he'd done, because in that moment, I was sure I would've forgiven Adrianna even after everything. The Dark Queen showed no mercy to traitors, but Yavara just wanted a friend.

I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if Leveria was getting any sleep. I knew I wouldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, Elena's face swam into view.

"Are you thinking about her too, Leveria?" I whispered to the ceiling. "I know you are. We can share this moment together then, and we won't be alone." A tear trickled down my cheek, "In truth, I feel closer to you now than anyone else still living. We have so very much in common. We're sisters, queens, and enemies, but most importantly, you understand what it means to love Elena. That's a connection no one else shares but you and me." I swallowed, "We're both loners. I never had true friends—only Elena; the rest were just people I smiled with. Maybe I had Prestira for a little while, but I really don't know how to make friends. I love my hybrid children, but I will never be one of them. They see me as an outsider, and sometimes as an intruder. It hurts, this solitude. I wish I could ask you how you deal with it. I wish I knew how you're dealing with Elena's passing; you seem so strong. You can take the burden on your shoulders, but I break so violently." I sniffled, "I wish we could share the burden together, but the last of my forgiveness is sapped away, and I know you never had any. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that Father loved me so warmly, and you so coldly. If he had only loved us as he should've, maybe we could've loved each other as sisters should. I really need a big sis right now."

The ceiling above didn't respond. I swallowed my grief, and whispered, "Alkandi?"

No answer.

"Alkandi, can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"I really need some fucking help right now." I hissed, silent tears running down my cheeks, "Give me some guidance. Show me a sign. Everything feels so wrong, and I can't shake the feeling that it's me."

But there was no reply. Alkandi was me, and I was her, and I offered myself no solace in the lonely night.

LEVERIA

They'd had to carry me out of the arena. I was so used and wasted that I couldn't even lift my finger to call for help. They tossed me unceremoniously into a cell beneath the arena, and left me with nothing but a loaf of bread and a chamber pot. It wasn't like I needed the latter; I'd emptied my enema-washed bowels several times during the day, and several times, Eva had gleefully stuffed a syringe up my ass, and filled me to the brim once more. Now she watched me from between the bars of my cell, not speaking.

"What?" I finally croaked.

"You're not who I thought you were."

"No one ever is."

She snorted as if I'd told a joke. "You're a tough bitch, Leveria."

"I have to be."

"Most women would break."

I smiled weakly at her. "I'm not most women."

She smiled back. "No. You're like me."

"Not really."

"You sure?" She undid the latch, and opened the cell door with a creak. She shut it quietly behind her, then sauntered over to the bed. "Do you wanna cuddle?" She giggled girlishly.

I glanced at her leather-bound cock.

"That's not what I meant." She whispered softly, and eased herself into bed next to me. She slipped beneath the sheets, and nestled herself into my arms. "This is what I meant."

I sneered at her. "I know what you're doing."

"What?" She whispered, caressing my cheek.

I touched her chin, and moved my finger to her lips. "You couldn't break me up there, so now you want to break me here. You almost look like Elena, but not quite, and you don't move like she does. It won't work."

"My, my, I am speaking to a master after all." Eva sighed, and pondered the shape of my mouth with dangerous interest. "So tell me, Leveria; what is it like to really torture someone?"

"Why don't you ask Yavara?"

"Because she's not like you or me." Eva whispered, "She inflicts pain to ease her own. I don't feel any pain when I hurt others, but..." she traced her finger along my collar, "...I don't know how to take the next step. It's all sexual to me, but you... you've crossed the forbidden line."