Pleasures of a Dark Queen - Chapter 1

Chapter One

The sound of metal grinding against metal, high-pitched and shrill, startled Arielle from a daydream.

"Dinnertime, Princess," the guard's rough, whiskey filled voice growled, title dripping with sarcasm and scorn. A tray of gruel and brackish water was pushed through the only opening on the rusty metal door and the cover was slammed back into place, reverberating in the small, dank cell. Heavy keys rattled against the door as the lock was reset.

Regarding herself with dismay Arielle pulled the plate to her and began to eat. She looked at her dress, once the color of the sky at twilight and suited for gentler pursuits than a prison cell offered, now tattered and covered with grime. Her long red hair was tangled and soiled and she didn't dare to wonder what her face must look like. Graceful, long-fingered hands that once performed the most delicate elemental magic were now trembling and caked in grime.

What I wouldn't give for a bath, she thought with a sigh. Absently she wondered if the grime and smell of the dungeons would ever come off. Would she ever be free of the stone walls that she would swear were closing in on her? The panic she constantly fought rose to the surface once again, the heat of it blooming in her chest, as her heart began beating wildly and her breath became ragged and unsteady.

Eighty-seven days here in this horrible place, her mind raged. Eighty-seven days with no end in sight. Oh, she knew what her captors wanted from her, alright, but the knowledge they sought was worth far more than her life, and she had taken an oath to guard the secret unto death. Though she tried to be brave the fear and the pain and the injustices she suffered at the hands of her captors all crashed over her like a wave. Sweat beaded on her lip and brow and her hands formed small hard fists around the tattered remnants of her dress. All at once the panic and grief overwhelmed her, bursting forth with a sound like that of a wounded animal escaped her lips. Her screams mingled with other screams from other cells, other lost and forsaken souls. She screamed and screamed until her raw and tortured throat would produce no more sound.

As her emotions raged on she heard the muffled sound of the guard's laughter outside her cell. A spark of hatred and anger bloomed within her breast, nurturing the maliciousness she harbored toward her tormentors. "Someday," she thought with grim determination, "someday they will all pay for what they've done to me."


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In another part of the castle high above Arielle's cell Queen Morena of Arlinsun bathed in a tub of solid gold. Candles set around the gilded bathing chamber illuminated hurried servants scurrying to anticipate the Queen's many whims. The queen's ladies-in-waiting lounged about the chamber in the sheerest silks. The queen’s bath was scented with oils from the rarest flowers. A large emerald suspended in her black hair matched the deep green of her eyes, but could not compete with their brilliance. Her face was delicate and deceptively beautiful with sensual, feminine, almost feline features and full, seductive lips. Her skin was alabaster and unblemished by scar or freckle. To look upon her was alarmingly hypnotic, as if the devil himself had taken feminine form to become man's ruin.

From a respectful distance across the chamber a man stood in clothes that seemed too big for him, as if he were a boy playing dress-up in his father's things. Wire thin and sinewy, the man had a sharp angular face populated with features that seemed too large against his thin frame. He was tall, but you couldn’t tell it from his stooped posture and bent neck.

One of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting called to the man in a voice that would have been pretty if it weren’t marred with snobbish contempt. "What news, warlock, "I mean,” she paused theatrically, putting her hand to her face in mock chagrin, “Master Sorcerer." The ladies in waiting giggled and snickered behind their hands, as the queen, watching quietly with cunning eyes, said nothing.

"The Elven woman is breaking, your majesty," said the Queen's Sorcerer, pointedly ignoring both the insult and the woman who gave it.

The Queen ignored the sorcerer for a long time before finally replying in a voice both dark and sensuous, "Really, Mageus? Has she revealed to you her secret at last?"

“Well, um, no, Your Grace,” he said, unconsciously shuffling on anxious feet.

“I see,” the queen purred darkly. “And when, pray tell, do you expect to receive the information I’ve so patiently waited to receive?”

Mageus cleared his throat nervously. "It's... um, well, that is, it's hard to say, your Majesty. She has proven rather, um,” he paused, searching for the words in a mind crowded with too many thoughts, “well, rather resistant to our machinations. However as she remains locked in the dungeon her resistance erodes by the day." Mageus finished in a rush.

Looking Mageus squarely in the face for the first time, the queen shot him a look so wicked it caused his awkward smile to shrivel into a thin, fearful line across his face. Though one of the most powerful men in the kingdom Mageus became unnerved around the Queen. He coveted her, and the fact that she often disregarded him filled him with impotent rage. He wanted to possess her, to take her again and again. He wanted to hear her scream, to beg, to whine, to moan. He wanted to punish her and please her and invade her and destroy her, but most of all he wanted to dominate her. The fact that she could make him feel so small and nervous made him hate himself, and to hate her even more. His hate and his love for her all jumbled together until he no longer knew if he wanted to marry or murder her. Perhaps he wanted both. The very thought of deferring to a woman made his teeth grind together painfully. Who’d ever heard of a country ruled by a queen! Surely they’d all die from the very shame of it!

"How much longer until she reveals the location of Eldingale, Sorcerer!" the queen repeated, each word spoken slowly and precisely, as if he were a particularly slow-witted child. The space within the chamber became very quiet except for the echoing of the Queen's jewel-toned voice against the gilded walls. "You'll have to do better than letting her rot in a cell." The ladies in waiting were quiet and sending fearful glances at one another. The queen was looking at Mageus squarely now, her eyes aggressively searched his face for any sign of defiance. Mageus felt real fear then, and lowered his eyes to the floor, as fear and self-loathing warred within him.

Satisfied for the moment that the sorcerer was compliant, the Queen began again, her voice dangerously quiet, like the hissing of a coiled snake. "My patience is growing thin, Mageus. I want the magic of the Elven, not vague assurances." Her voice began to rise again, filling the chamber. "She's just one girl! If you can't find a way to make her give me the information I want I will find someone who can!" The last words were delivered in a shout and Mageus knew he was in serious danger. The queen was renowned for her rash decrees when enraged, and for all of his magical power a executioner’s axe could sever his head just as easily as anyone else’s.

"Of course, Your Highness. I will redouble my efforts with the Elven girl at once," he assured, bowed deeply, and then prepared to take his leave of the Queen. It was always better to depart as quickly as possible when she was displeased. "With your permission I will question the girl myself immediately. I will get you the information you desire, Your Majesty, I swear it!”

”See that you do. And make sure she doesn’t die before she gives us the information. I will not tolerate another failure. My courtiers already whisper that I am too lenient with you because of the love you bear for me,” her voice was velvet once more, yet ever edged with the danger of her fearful intelligence.

Mageus did not know how to respond. Never before had she spoken to him this way before, about love. “I, I will not fail you,” he said at last in a voice that trembled with uncertainty and desire. The Queen’s eyes were elsewhere, she was sending servants for towels, forgetting him already as she waived one creamy, graceful hand towards Mageus in dismissal. He took the customary two steps backward, bowed again, then turned behind the screen that lead towards the door.

Mageus could hear water splashing as Morena rose from her bath. As he turned the corner to exit the chamber he caught a glimpse of her between the screen and the doorway, naked and glistening in the candlelight. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her voluptuous frame so long and round, and dripping wet. "Oh," he thought, "so very beautiful." He could not help himself but linger there a moment, basking in the vision of her.

She caught him then, her eyes drawn to where he stood in the darkened corner. The sight of him, head tilted to one side, eyes glassy and so full of longing made her eyes become malicious slits as her cruel laughter filled the chamber, echoing off the walls. Mageus felt the heat rush to his face and a painful clenching in his groin.

"A thousand pardons, your Majesty! I didn't mean to... that is, I...."

"STOP!" commanded the queen. His babbling ceased, cut off in mid sentence. All was still and silent as the tension grew. She regarded him with wicked calculation, the way a cat would eye a mouse in it's grasp. All the women in the chamber were aware of him now.

In a voice deadly dangerous and provocative she purred, "I could have your eyes, Mageus."

Frantically his mind worked, trying to form an apology, something to cover his error. But his mind was wrapped around the sight of her, still naked and so achingly beautiful. His mouth worked but he could not find the words to say. He was lost, confused, hopelessly out-maneuvered before he even began.

"Look at him, cat's got his tongue!" One of the servants said in a rough street accent, giggling. The queen began laughing again and the others took their cue from her. Soon they all were laughing and pointing at him.

Another maid brought Queen Morena a towel to wrap herself in, breaking the spell and bringing Mageus back in control of himself.

With a blush of embarrassment and anger Mageus exited from the room, humiliated. The sound of the women’s laughter climbed as he fled, following him down the corridor.

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"Bitch!" Mageus swore under his breath, his face screwed up in rage. "How dare she treat me like that!" He ranted, a forgotten parchment crumpling in his clenched fist. "One day, Morena! One day I will have your precious throne. Then you will be my slave and I will make you pay. You'll never be allowed clothes again." He looked down at his hand, surprised to find the parchment there. He smoothed the creases with hands that shook. "Soon now, very soon you will beg on your hands and knees to please me. You'll beg until your voice holds now more sound." he sneered a smile so malicious that a passing chambermaid jumped in surprise as she glimpsed it while crossing the corridor.

"You there. Come here," Mageus commanded in a voice too loud.

Drawing a shaky breath, the chambermaid complied, knowing she had no choice. There were rumors about the Sorcerer's darker appetites. Eyes on the floor, she stood before him.

Mageus eyed the woman, appraising her figure underneath the many layers of clothing. "Go to my chambers now, woman. The bed linens need changing."

"Begging your pardon, Master Sorcerer, but your linens were replaced this morning."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the blow an instant before it landed on her face. Mageus grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her head back up. He hovered just inches from her, his own face a mask of rage and anger. "Insolent... little... Bitch!" He released her face roughly to grab her by the arm, wrenching her with him up to his room in the tower. He had found a plaything to vent his anger at Morena on. "Oh, yes," he thought to himself, "the bed linens will certainly need changing."

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Far to the south in the forest valley town of Ilsen Arielle's mother received news from the elder's Council that they wound not send a rescue party for her daughter. The bearer of this bad news was her long-time friend Jalyn.

"They will not send a rescue team for her, Reslana. They dare not! What if more Elvens were captured! The Council cannot take the risk!"

Reslana paced the spacious, sunlit room like a caged animal. "So they condemn my daughter to die?"

"Reslana, what would you have them do?"

"I would have them protect my daughter! She is one of our people, isn't she!" Reslana's voice climbed, a note of pleading in her normally strong voice.

Soothingly Jalyn responded as best as she could. "You speak with the heart of a mother."

Reslana stopped in front of her long time friend. "Of course I do!" she replied, heat rising in her voice. "How else could I speak? I cannot forsake Arielle to the humans, Jalyn."

But what of the mothers you would condemn to the same pain by sending their children in a quest to save her? You know as well as I that the Elven are not strong enough to war with the humans. And they want our magic. They have broken the old treaties and they will torture any Elven they capture to learn the location of the magic city. Be realistic Reslana! We cannot save Arielle if it means losing Eldengale to the humans!"

"Do not speak to me of what we cannot do! I need solutions." Reslana replied, determination strong in her eyes. "Mark my words, Jalyn. I will find a way to save my daughter." Reslana left then, for there was nothing more to say.

Jalyn watched her friend depart with a sigh. "Oh Reslana. I hope that you don't do something terribly foolish because of your breaking heart. Can't you see that you would condemn us all?"

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Back in her home Reslana began preparing a spell of vision to reveal her daughter. She gathered all the necessary ingredients and began the incantation, as she had done everyday since Arielle's disappearance.

Some dark magic was working against her because she was never to locate Arielle. The spell's magic would show a blurred, unreadable image, as if the vision was blocked somehow.

Reslana's resolve grew stronger than ever.

"Arielle must be held in the Black Castle at Arlinsun," Reslana said aloud to no one, as was her habit when worried. "The Castle is protected by evil magic conjured by a sorcerer in service of Queen Morena," she mumbled, chewing a nail absently. "The Council will not help me save her. Who can I send to bring Arielle back to me?"

She pondered this long into the night, but no answers came.



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Continued in Chapter 2

ID: 967793   (Rated: 18+) Pleasures of a Dark Queen - Chapter 2  Arielle dreams of her past and longs for the lover she believes dead by Gentle_Dahlia

Author: Sarah Johnson
Revised and edited on September 19, 2006