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The Deceived

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Alyssia had won.

You hated to admit it, you hated to even acknowledge the fact as truth... but she had. She had won. She was enriched with the dead King's power, she was the rightful ruler of this wretched place, and she had impregnated you with her offspring. What more evidence, what more convincing did you need to finally accept the truth? Alyssia had won. She had defeated you in battle and impregnated you right there on the battlefield, with the afterglow of her victory ripe in the air.

But maybe that was why you would never submit to her... because she had defeated you.

It sounded silly—her defeating you had allowed her to impregnate and keep you locked up in her room in the first place, but the fact that she had defeated you in combat, didn't mean as much as she thought it did. You were a promising warrior, more than promising. You had defeated many monsters along your path: The Siege Breaker, The Ogres, and even The Archmage of Cromwell! But you were not expecting Alyssia's betrayal. You knew the monsters were just that, monsters, mindless beasts who killed for the sake of killing, but Alyssia was different—at first. She had been kind, she had been helpful (at times), and she had complimented you on your strength and skills... only to encase you in crystal towards the end and double cross you.

You had given it your all to try and defeat her; you had used all of your strength you could possibly muster, to ensure she could not reign the land, but it was all for nought. She was powerful. She was cunning. You had almost defeated her, almost... but it was merely an illusion, a trick, a lie. And the real one was standing right behind you, staff in hand, ready to smite you down where you stood.

And smite she did. She used most of her magic on you simultaneously, ensuring you could not heal yourself and continue the fight. After you had collapsed onto one knee, bruised and beaten, she had taken the King's power—killing him in the process—and then removed your armour and fucked you right there, in front of the King's dead corpse, with the sky blaring down at you, with your naked back scraping against the ground. You had tried to fight, but she was too powerful, too strong. You didn't stand a chance.

You still don't now. She is too overpowering, too great in her conquest. The first couple of times you tried to fight back against her, but she had made quick work of you and gave you some nasty looking scars, but you still did not yield. You were the lone survivor, and you would not submit so easily.

That was... until you found out you were pregnant. It was an utter shock to you, but she didn't seem all that surprised (maybe that was her intention all along? Or maybe she just hid her surprise? But what did it matter now? You could never ask her, she held her cards close to her chest, only keeping you and you alone close, still not underestimating you). It still confused you on how she had actually acquired a... male reproductive organ, since she was quite clearly female, but you supposed it had something to do with the King's stolen power. She was mighty with the power, limitless, much to your dismay.

After you had found out you were carrying her child, you stopped fighting her as often. You still got on her nerves, and you still argued with her (maybe when you were trying to plead with her to spare someone's life, or maybe when she chained you up somewhere because she didn't want you escaping) but you didn't fight when she took you every night. Most of the time she was rough in bed, never letting up when you couldn't take anymore, but since you had begun showing, she started to let up a little. You never confronted her about this, and you never asked about it—lest she go back to being ruthless—because it was a small victory on your part.

She owned your body, even you could not deny that, but she would never own your mind, spirit and soul. You wouldn't let her. But... sometimes when things were too much, and your morning sickness was particularly bad that day, she would rub your back, hold your hair and feed you crackers and water—you wanted to lean into her touch and accept her (and sometimes you did), but you would always chalk it up to a momentary weakness combined with a bad day. You did not love her, you did feel something for her... but it was not love.

The male lone survivor you had encountered on your perilous journey had been cute, and he had even freed you from the crystal Alyssia had encased you in, but after Alyssia had caught you staring at him and then had him promptly executed in front of you, your hopes of defeating Alyssia with his help had also been killed on the spot.

You sighed, and pulled the blankets tighter to your body. The arm around your midsection held you tight, the bump that signalled life growing inside of you protruded from your abdomen slightly. It was big enough so that anyone who looked at you could tell you were with child, but not so big that you couldn't do anything by yourself. You dreaded that day, that meant relying on Alyssia... one of your worst fears.

You squeezed your eyes closed and held back tears. You would not cry in front of her, sleeping or not, you had held on without crying in front of her for this long (without being pummeled into a mattress), and you would not cry in front of her now. She had been gentle this night, which only made things worse. You hated it when she was overly gentle and (you would never use the word affectionate) considerate of your limits. If she was rough and brutal with you then your hate was clearly justified and encouraged, but when she was gentle you just wanted to bury yourself in her arms and cry and cry and cry.

You would never show her such weakness, obviously, but you couldn't deny the fact that it was tempting... too tempting.

You hated Alyssia, you hated her to the core, but wanting to be comforted was a human instinct, even for the lone survivor.

You wondered if Alyssia knew that you had not truly submitted to her, you wondered if she knew that you would stab her in the back first chance you got. You already knew that she knew you hated her. Being the carrier of her child did not change that, but it did mean that you were less likely to escape, and she knew this—of course she did. Where were you going to go? Pregnant with her child, starting (but not quite) to develop a pregnant belly, alone, with no weapons, no armour (she had gotten rid of that the first time she had stripped you naked on the battlefield), and no friends or accomplices to lend you shelter until you could leave the Kingdom of Vallaris.

You were trapped with her.

Alyssia The Deceiver. Alyssia The Reigning Queen.

Stuck by her side, as her pregnant bitch.

The thought made you clench your fists in fury, but it was short-lived when your stomach started to get unsteady. How long was this cursed morning sickness going to last? You hated rushing to the bathroom in the dead of night, because that meant waking Alyssia up, and of course she just always had to get up and follow you into the bathroom to... well, you didn't know exactly why she always got up when you did, but it was annoying. You didn't need help, you didn't need anything from her.

You sat up slowly, sweat starting to form a sheen along your skin. It was a mix of mental anguish combined with the pregnancy that made you uneasy most of the time, and Alyssia always had a remedy to take your mind off things—face down in the pillow, legs spread, her fucking you from behind-

You shook the thought away quickly, that was the last thing you needed right now. The arm around your midsection was still clinging on, unyielding. You didn't quite dare try to remove it, that would wake Alyssia up for sure. You laid back down on the sheets and cupped your bump gently, willing it to calm and still so you could fall into the abyss of sleep—a favourite hobby of yours. To your surprise, it complied. The heat started to ease off as the pull of nausea started to fade, you smiled in relief. Only to frown deeply when you felt Alyssia pull you closer against her chest. You didn't look at her, you didn't even know if she was awake or not, you just closed your eyes and hoped for the best. She forcefully tugged you closer and buried her face into your neck, breathing softly against your skin.

You let out a small breath of relief and laid still, not wanting to wake her. Not that you cared about her or her wellbeing (you didn't, not one bit), but waking her up would be nothing but hassle and bad news for you.

You hoped that the... exertions that you had done together had worn her out enough to keep her unconscious (they usually did), so you could have some time to yourself. Between her getting monstrous guards to keep an eye on you, to her guarding you herself, you didn't have some much needed alone time. You had no idea what was going to happen when you had her child, but you suspected that she had no intention of letting you go—despite your pleas. The thought of getting pregnant again was a distressing, yet very realistic and probable one, since she never used protection (and even if you insisted and asked or begged, she would dismiss you immediately... you knew from experience).

Alyssia was corrupted, she was like molten lava at the best of times and a volcano at the worst. She was strong, ruthless, so sure of herself, but kept you close, always kept you close. She knew not to underestimate or peg you as a fool, she knew you were a very capable warrior, a solider, and if she had not defeated you when she did then she knew you would have saved the land and killed the King, something she could not let happen. But there was something about her that had started to bother you, she was extremely possessive, sure, but the lengths that she would take to keep you with her were startlingly similar to what a lover would do.

A real lover, not the one she pretended to be when she fucked you, a partner, a significant other. But it was tainted and mixed in with her obsessive behaviour, she was a hard person to read—especially since her corrupted form had no face—and you didn't understand her or her motives sometimes. Perhaps you never would, but maybe you didn't want to.

You and her were different, not as much as you liked to believe, but you also had some similarities.

You both loved the feeling of strength as it coursed through your veins, heating your blood with the unlimited potential you could achieve, the feel of heavy weaponry against your palm as you finished a good fight, the taste of victory after you crushed your enemy, to name a few.

Before all of this, before the pain, before the sore legs, before the bruises, before the lacerations—there was nothing you loved more than the thrill of the hunt. With the sun shining on your face, with a weapon held tightly in your grasp, you would hunt monsters and villains and lay waste to all of the corruption that plagued this land. But since Alyssia... the sun had only shone on your face when she let you outside, or when she let you get close enough to a window so the rays of light could cast upon your face.

You missed the thrills of the hunt, you missed the sun glaring down at you, you missed the sweat you worked up after a good kill, you missed the armour clinging to your skin; you missed everything about your journey, and the outside world, before you had failed in your mission to defeat Alyssia. Usually you would wear a defeat in combat like a badge of honour until you got stronger and you worked your way back up to the top, only then, when you had nothing more left to give, only then would you finally defeat the beast and progress forward. There was nothing better than that, nothing.

But since Alyssia's rise to power, there was no worthy monsters to fight (most served under her iron fist anyway), no opponents to crush, and no chance of battling the one villian who was your perfect rival: The women sleeping right next to you, Alyssia.

But you wouldn't give up that easily. You were the lone survivor, the only one who could defeat Queen Alyssia. The scars that contrasted with your tanned skin were battle wounds, badges of honour that proved you were a fighter, a survivor. There would be moments of weakness, it was hard being constantly under her thumb, but the first chance you got you would escape and then defeat her in battle once and for all. She got to you some days, but you just had to hold on a little longer...

She shifted suddenly, and buried her face into your hair. You went ridged in her arms on instinct and closed your eyes, her imposing form swallowing yours. When she settled once again, you kept your eyes closed this time. It was about time you got some sleep anyway, you couldn't battle Alyssia if you were tired.

You pulled the covers tighter around your body and let your mind drift, a welcome substitute for your reality.