Chapter Text
The sound of heavy metal clanging against itself awoke Ciara from her fitful slumber. She peered around through half-lidded eyes at her surroundings, although all that seemed to await her gaze was darkness. As she moved to push herself up into a seated position, she found herself unable to properly use her hands. Ciara's brow furrowed with intense confusion as she tried to decipher why she was in this particular predicament. The wheels within her mind spun frantically as she attempted to recall the last twelve hours of her life, even as the firm rope that bound her wrists dug into her skin. As she grunted and fought against her restraints, she abruptly paused as the memories of the past day rushed through her mind.
Ciara recalled that the day had been, for the most part, like any other. Despite her town being tucked away within the deeper reaches of the forest outside of Siscia, word had gotten around that the women from her part of the continent were far more beautiful than those of other cities. Untainted by the struggles that plagued the more technologically advanced cities, the people of her hometown had a reputation of being cut from a finer cloth. With this in mind, it didn't take long for raiders to find the secret path that merchants used to travel. Within hours of their arrival they laid waste to any man that stood in their way, and the women of appropriate age were bound, gagged, and dragged off beyond the thick foliage. Ciara could recall the sounds of terror and grief as her mother begged for her daughter to be returned, which was returned by her own cacophony of sobs and whimpers. Without as much as a single warning, she felt a powerful strike collide with the side of her head; which swiftly knocked her unconscious and rendered her mouth silent.
The sound of approaching footsteps cut through the darkness of Ciara's surroundings, and it quickly snapped her out of her traumatic recollection. A quiet whimper escaped her as she pressed her bare back against the cold granite wall behind her. Once the wooden door opened and light from a torch streamed in, she could see that she was alone within a ten by ten cell, and the door that led into her cell seemed to be one of many within a dungeon of sorts. A man adorned in black and brown strode into the cell, his deep brown eyes illuminated by the source of fire he held within his hand. The blade upon his hip and the mask shielding the lower portion of his face practically announced to the entire world that he was a mercenary. A man truly devoid of honor or respect, and loyal to nothing but the nearest man with the heaviest purse. She did nothing to hide the scowl that etched itself into her features, although the fear within her heart bubbled forth and cut through her façade.
"What do you want with me?!" she yelled, her voice wavering for just a moment.
"Do you really want to know?" the man murmured patiently, his eyes speaking of mild amusement despite his overall detached demeanor.
The response rendered her silent as a chill raced up her spine. She found herself pulling her legs inward to tuck against her bare breasts, and she pressed her arms tighter against her chest and collarbone. She looked down for a brief moment, the shock and disbelief of her current situation racing through her. Her temple still ached with the strike that she endured earlier, although something within her told her that the less weakness she showed the better.
"Sir, please take me home. Whatever they're paying you, I assure you my family will beat it." she implored, doing her best to keep her voice calm and authoritative. She had to paint this as some kind of negotiation, even though she literally had zero cards to play. Her family was far from rich, but perhaps he didn't know that. She had to hope, didn't she?
The man let out a throaty chuckle and gave a brief raise of his eyebrow, almost as if silently asking "Really?". The man remained silent as he walked across the cell, his boots lightly echoing off the stone as he walked. "You may either sit quietly and allow me to inspect you, or I can have my friends come and hold you down while I do so." He reached up and placed the torch into a holder on the wall, which would sufficiently illuminate the maiden that he caught. As he reached out to begin the inspection, she instinctively shied away from his touch. Once again, he gave her a look that read "Come on now." Ciara met his gaze for a moment before audibly gulping. She turned away and closed her eyes as embarrassment and shame wracked her mind. Her arms slowly moved down to expose her soft, plush breasts and slightly erect nipples. Even in the low glow cast by the lit torch overhead, the beauty and majesty of her body was undeniable.
The man's hands felt rough and calloused as he moved her appendages and assets every which way, although his touch didn't seem driven by lust. He was inspecting her similar to how one might inspect a sword before purchasing, searching for any imperfections that may be imperceptible by a simply cursory glance. She felt her cheeks become slightly hot as the man raised her breasts to peer underneath at her ribcage and midsection. She gave a slight squeak as his cold fingertips pressed along her stomach and abdomen, and she stifled a small giggle that was no doubt inappropriate in this current circumstance. All laughter fled her as his hands forced apart her legs, although she offered as little resistance as she could manage. With her shoulder blades pressed firmly against the stone and her legs spread open and raised; Ciara shut her eyes tightly as the cold air of the cell met her petals. "This is it.." she thought. This was where she would be defiled, her purity besmirched and tainted. Some disgusting, money-hungry fiend would rail her here and now; denying her the honor or luxury of having her first time be from someone she actually cared about. His fingers casually pried apart her slightly protruding petals, clearly inspecting if she was still a virgin.
Then, as suddenly as it began, he ceased his invasive exploration. She immediately closed her legs and covered her breasts with her hands once again, hoping to retain some semblance of privacy or dignity from what her captor had just done. After stepping back from her bed, the sellsword patiently stared at her; seemingly in deep thought. With a quiet 'hm' escaping his lips, he reached into his pocket and pulled out several pieces of cloth. After searching for a brief moment, he plucked one out from the group and stuffed the others into the same pocket he retrieved them from. Without even looking at her, he simply tossed the cloth towards her and exited the cell.
Upon further inspection, the garment that the mercenary had given her was a traditional underwear that she typically wore during her day to day life. However, there was a strange deep blue marking stricken across the majority of the front part of the cloth. To say it was strange would certainly be an understatement, but she was certainly not going to turn her nose up at the only article of clothing she had to cover herself with. After taking a few moments to collect herself, she reclined back onto the bed and awaited her fate.