The Crowned Captive
False Niceties and Fake Threats

After a full day in the saddle, Morana’s legs ached. When the mare finally came to a halt, she all but fell from her seat, grateful for some relief. Rowan chuckled behind her, a dark and dangerous sound, as she collapsed against a nearby tree and studied the surroundings. They had stopped in a small clearing, a miniature glen carpeted with beautiful flowers of purple and yellow. Sunlight flittered through the thinning trees, dancing around the meadow with glee. Around the edges of the meadow, ferns swayed and reached, as if trying to catch a fleeting second with the joyous light.

“If you are so done with staring at flowers like some daft child, we are about to make camp. You and I are to do some shopping,” Rowan said, his voice gravelly and husky with exhaustion. It had not gotten past her that he had not slept at all in the past day, possibly longer if he had been stalking her in the night. He must be tired; maybe she could escape when he finally crashed.

“Do I get to go to town as well?” She questioned, surprised he would take such a risk. She had honestly assumed she would be tied to the horse or a tree and left to stare at the flowers for hours.

“I have orders to bring you back alive. With your affinity for jumping headfirst into deadly situations, and the fact someone has hounds set on you, I do not think leaving you alone would be wise. So unless you wish to ride naked when these clothes begin to dirty, I do expect you to accompany me. Are there any objections?”

“For interest’s sake, are any threats you make to kill me completely empty?”

“My threats to put you on the horse, freezing and naked, are not. I said alive, not comfortable. Now, do you have any objections?”

“No objections,” Morana but out, aware of the wave of crimson washing over her skin at the thought of riding naked with the elf so close to her skin. Embarrassment sang through her unbidden.

Morana simply watched as Rowan dismounted and erected a small hide tent in the centre of the meadow. She did not bother to help him as he paced around the perimeter, seemingly concentrating. A wave of heady musk burned over her, and she quickly realised it was more magic. Soon after that, Rowan crooked his finger at her wordlessly and began walking away, as if she was no more than an animal not worth his breath.

She sat there, wondering what may happen if she did not follow. When would he bother to check? Could she escape if she just waited him out? She leaned forward then heaved herself onto her aching legs, watching him closely. He seemed not to care as she stood and watched him. She swivelled her head to surgery the forest around the meadow, attempting to work out which way civilisation lay. Could she find the path and find someone to help her? If she reached the village before he did, maybe she could find a horse to flee on or some safe house. Maybe the villagers would even get rid of him for her. Her stomach coiled at the thought of turning a mob on him, but surely it was warranted given he had kidnapped her.

A crack sounded from the tree in front of her, and her eyes flew wide as she felt the rush of air and burn on her cheek. A shaky hand reached up to her face and touched wetness. She looked at her hand, bowels turning to water as she saw the ruby sheer across her fingertips. Looking up again, ever so slowly, she saw a glittering green handle sticking from the tree trunk. Rowan stalked past her, grinning without amusement. It was very clear in that instant that escape was currently not an option as he stalked towards her, face hard with anger.

Morana expected more of a scalding as he dislodged his blade then walked past her, dagger in hand, and let his shoulder brush against her shocked frame. Her mouth went dry and her legs began to tremble. He stopped and looked down at her as if he may kill her where she stood.

“Do you wish to shop for clothes, or do you wish to be naked and bound?” He ground out. His eyes crawled over her, seeming to see through the oversized clothes she wore to the flesh below, and his bared teeth softened to a predatory grin. “In honesty, it may be nice seeing you naked, slung over the horse, completely at my mercy.”

Bile rose in her throat as she scrambled away from him. She yelped as he whipped his arm out, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her back towards him. His eyes searched her face, and that grin widened as she pushed against him, desperate to escape his grasp. He seemed to wait, actually expecting a damned reply to his stupid question.

“Clothes, no bindings,” she managed to say, even those words a struggle. Less than 24 hours stuck with an all-powerful elven warrior had turned her into a blubbering mess. She swallowed down the thought. Anybody spending 24 hours with the male in front of her was likely to do much the same thing, she thought, as those eyes pierced into her very soul.

He shrugged then, his grin falling in mere moments as he began to walk away from her. She hesitated, for barely a moment more, and saw his step falter. Scrambling after him again, she swore she could see his shoulders hitch in a silent laugh. She decided she certainly did not have a death wish today, and would not irritate her captor much more, following him silently through the trees.

As the bustle of the village began to filter through the trees Rowan threw a stern warning look over his shoulder. She tried her hardest to ignore it. If he was taking her to a well-populated village and did not expect her to make an escape attempt, then that was on him. She truly had no clue where she would go, but she would free herself of him somehow.

As the duo finally emerged from the woods, Morana blinked at the towering wall before them. She quickly realised it was a little bigger than just a village. That certainly put a snag in her shoddy escape plan. She swallowed down her trepidation as Rowan stalked forward, finding the road that wound its way through the surrounding farming land as they made their way towards the outpost proper. If this was the town she thought it was, Ravensport, it was meant to be a three day ride from her village. Swallowing down a curse, she calculated the distance they must have travelled last night. Another two days at this pace and they would be in the mountain range separating them from the fae lands.

His warning look bored into her harder as they neared the heavy gates, passing between the guards without question. Her eyes widened and her hands immediately flew to her ears, making sure those arches were hidden well behind her hair as a sea of people ebbed and flowed around them. Never had she seen so many in one place. With a heavy sigh, Rowan stalked over and looped his arm through hers, practically dragging her through the crowd as he donned a mask of soft amusement.

Dear Gods, he was gorgeous when he pretended to look at her lovingly. The sparkle in his eyes made her stomach coil in all the right ways as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. She nearly expected the sweet nothings of a lover as his lips brushed against her hair.

“You know the rules. Run, and you’ll never run again. Yell, and I’ll remove your tongue,” he murmured against her, that loving sparkle in his eyes turning wicked. The coil of arousal in Morana’s core evaporated, returning to fear. How stupid of her to forget the male with his arm linked through hers was as good at killing as a reaper.

They walked through the town, arms entwined as if a couple on a leisurely stroll, him leading her slowly towards the town square. Morana’s mouth watered at the food around them, sweets dripping in sugar and honey, meats that smelt of such aromatic spices. She stared at the food as they walked past, and despite her fear, her stomach dared to growl. Rowan slowed beside her, smirking down with a bored sort of curiosity. He stopped for a moment, something clicking into place behind his eyes as he sighed.

“Choose anything, and it is yours,” he said, giving her space to run in the narrow street. Her eyes widened at the comment.

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything. I knew you were daft, but surely you know what that means.”

Her brows furrowed at the insult underneath his kind gesture, and she nearly turned him down before another smell of sweets rolled over her. Without her brain commanding them to do so, her legs started moving towards the smell. The stall was on the other side of the road, selling golden flaky pastries and pies, unlike anything she had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Some were filled with berries, some custards and others drizzled in caramels and white sugary sauces that nearly promised rotting teeth. Her hunger grew again and she practically drooled as she looked over them.

Seeming to take her longing look as a response, Rowan stepped forward and pointed to a couple of flaky pastries, as well as a tart filled with golden citrus goodness. Gold coins clinked out of his hand again, and the shopkeeper thanked him profusely as he turned back to his captive. His smirk seemed genuine as he handed over one of the flaky pastries, which Morana practically snatched from him. Crumbs stuck to her face as she shovelled half of it into her mouth, the sweet and tart exploding along her tongue around the crunchy buttery goodness of the pastry. A moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and savoured the taste. A genuine laugh, bright and clear, came from Rowan then as he watched her devour the first pastry she had since she was a mere child.

His eyes sparkled as she licked the remaining berry filling from her fingers, trying to get rid of the purple stains. She brushed the crumbs from her face too, trying not to embarrass herself too much as he watched her with shimmering eyes. For a second, she could nearly believe the fondness in that gaze. Biting into his citrus tart, he handed her another pastry and began leading her toward the square once more. Morana noted from the corners of her eyes the changes in the shops then, from humble family-owned stores to more... refined buildings. Far out of any budget she had ever had. The simple dresses on racks gave way for frocks and gowns, and eventually glittering jewels. She straightened then, hyper-aware of the fact that she still wore oversized riding trousers and a borrowed and far too big tunic from Rowan.

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