Hunt Me Down (Vortigern)

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

It hurt when he pulled the gag from her mouth, as he surely made no effort to be gentle, but that didn’t stop Yassia from lashing out at him verbally. Much anger had pent up inside her during her ride and stay in the dark, and she just wasn’t one to swallow such things, even though it might have been much wiser. There still was that knife to reckon with that now was annoyingly close to her neck again. Yassia had never deemed herself a person easily to be scared, but a knife at your throat could bring the strongest spirits to the brink of breaking. Her eyes darted back and forth between Vortigern’s face and the hand holding the blade, as if trying to anticipate any move he would made though she knew that escaping it was nearly impossible, even without not being tied up. Yassia remembered his ‘promise’ to cut her face all too well, and she still was as scared of it as she had been when he first threatened her to do it.

It was a good thing, on the other hand, that even as a little girl Yassia had never been afraid of the dark. The only thing that might scare her was the possibility of rats coming closer when they felt bold in the darkness, and with hands bound behind her back she could not even do much against them! She dreaded the possibility of one of those nasty creatures getting close to her, touching her with their naked tail--- ugh, better not think too much about that!
“If it spares me your annoying voice and face, I might just sign up for that”, she told him defiantly, not wanting him to see what was really on her mind. “But I’m sure you didn’t bring me here just to leave me in the dark forever. I’m sure you have some truly cunning plan of yours.”

Yassia narrowed her eyes at Vortigern. Outrageous behavior? SHE? Well, look who was talking! Had she dragged him off and thrown into a dungeon-like place for nothing?! Had she killed his horse and humiliated him in the worst ways possible?! And all for what?! To show his superiority? To get back on her for telling him off quite so rudely when it had come to their planned betrothal? A man’s wounded pride could be a sharp sword indeed, but would he go as far just for revenge? No, there had to be something else on his mind, some greater plan. Did he know how she had been fleeing from Guifré? He probably must have, else he wouldn’t have set up that perfect trap just behind the border… It was all so very confusing and completely annoying!
“Oh and how would you propose I ‘redeem my mistakes’? “ she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You should know by now that a Dyfrène does never bow to cruelty”, she involuntarily cited her father. “Our integrity is what makes us strong, as it might be blemished but can never be taken away.” That was her firm believe, but looking at Vortigern now he confidence started to wane. Who knew what might be on his mind, what he might have in store yet…

[Vortigern]

-------She had not learned her lesson. Her tongue continued to remain as sharp as a whip. And Vortigern's tolerance for her outspokenness was reaching it's end. She was trying to be witty, and strong. Vortigern would make her weak and force her to crumble. He did not care what it took. He merely needed to keep her alive. It did not matter in what state she was in, so long as her heart beat and she was breathing. Annoying face. Integrity and strength. And then of course, her ever so charming sarcasm. Vortigern would have to be more assertive. For apparently, striking her across the face had not yet taught her a lesson. She kept talking and mouthing off insults. And Vortigern was a man of action. A man of threat. One who refused to stand by as if he was willing to listen to her unacceptable words.

-------In one sudden and harsh movement, his hand grabbed the back of her head, forcefully clutching a handful of her hair. He violently titled her head back a bit so that it was more titled upwards, as he raised his dagger to her eye. The very point of the blade was only an inch away from her pupil, almost touching it. And he kept it fully in place. "If my 'annoying face' bothers you, then I have a way to alleviate you of that disturbance." Meaning, he could very well blind her. There was nothing in his tone of voice that suggested he was joking. Or that he would not do it. He tightened his grasp on her hair, hoping it pulled. Hoping it caused her discomfort for even if it did, she dare not move. Not when all he need do was move the weapon less than an inch downwards to penetrate her eye.

-------"Blink." His voice was daring. Taunting her. "And this will be the last time you are able to open your eye." Another threat. One that he would not make an empty one. What he really wanted to know, was how long she could keep her eye open for and her body entirely still. "Let us truly see how much integrity and strength a Dyfrène actually has." He doubted very little, he hoped that it was very little. "Tell me, does this now blemish what strength your delusional self believes to have?" He continued to mock her and her unfortunate position. He was the one of authority; he was the one in control. And he would not put up with her remarks any longer. A sinister but angry smile formed on his lips, only meant to make his actions more unpredictable as to whether he would actually stab her, or whether he would remove the blade from its threatening position.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

She should not have said it. No of course she should not have said anything of it. She KNEW for the star’s sake that Vortigern was cruel enough to take everything litteral she said! She just hadn’t know what part he would pounce on like a bird of prey on a helpless hare, but she got her answer soon enough! For a horrifying, sickening moment, Yassia feared he might be going through with it without any threat first. She gasped when his hands brutally grasped her hair and made her look up to him. A position she didn’t like. She didn’t want to have to look at his cruelly sneering face, but his next action, prevented every chance to look away – or even blink.

The blade was so close she couldn’t even see the the tip clearly anymore, but she KNEW it was there, almost imagined it to plunge into her eye sockets already, waited for the unimaginable pain and the darkness that would ensue. But there was it… the tiny chance she could get out of this unscathed. Don’t blink, Yassia, don’t blink… you can do it… you know you can.
It was the distortion of a stupid child’s game she had often played with her brother Ramon or later with Mircea even. You simply stared at your counterpart as long as you could without blinking. Whoever blinked first lost and had to fulfil a dare of some kind or grant the other a wish. Just that this was no game. It was horrible, brutal reality. Yassia had always been fairly good at holding a gaze without blinking, but the fear and panic magnified the difficulty of it seemingly a thousand times.

Her mouth slightly open, her neck cramping from the unnatural position it was forced to hold, the roots of her hair in flaming agony, she stared up at Vortigern, fear and hate alike in her eyes that slowly began to water and brim over as she had no way of making away with surplus tear fluid. “I will not”, she told him, still defiant but definitely less sure of herself than she had been a few minutes before. “I will not give you the satisfaction, Vortigern. I will NOT”
But she knew it was getting harder and harder, her eyes now started to protest, itch and hurt along with tears running down her cheeks. How long could she stay like this until she begged him to turn the blade away? As little as she could live with a scar blemishing her face, the thought of losing her eyesight was even more horrifying.

Her cramping muscles now started to tremble, and she licked her lips nervously, her breath accelerating until it nearly came in ragged sobs. She was on the verge of breaking. Yassia was a strong woman, but even she could only endure a situation like that for so long. Who would win this? Would she beg or would he become bored of this particular game?

[Vortigern]

-------She was weakening. Vortigern could sense it for it was evident in her body language and in the way she spoke. But it was still not to the point he wanted. Her words were still holding strong, and he did not like that. He also knew that if he decided to carry out his threat now, then it would be less to threaten her with later. They had quite a bit of time together and he did not want to spoil all the fun in the first moments. Patience was not one of his virtues but with her, her would have to be slightly more tolerant. If only to drag out these moments of agony that she surely must be feeling. Even if she did not show it. Vortigern stayed in his position. Seeing the tears falling from her eyes and only using this as further ammo to taunt her with. He was not a man who felt sympathetic towards a crying woman. He felt encouraged by it. He often determined the source of tears and pushed it to further limits. In this case, he knew what was making her eyes water and it was part of the reason he stayed firm in position.

-------A cruel smile formed on his lips, a sadistic gleam of amusement in his eyes. For he was enjoying this. "Does crying make you stronger? Or is it an attempt to evoke sympathy?" If it was the first, then that was pitiful. But then of course, everything was pitiful to Vortigern. If it was the latter, then it was a failed attempt indeed. He moved his head slightly closer to her, cocking it to the side as if he was just waiting for her to break, and blink. "If anything it certainly shows your vulnerability," he mocked. But of course it was to be expected; it was what Vortigern had been hoping for. "Beg once." Because that was what he wanted. The princess of Ailantha to beg for her sight. To beg for mercy from a ruthless man. "And I will remove the blade from your eye." He was not exactly a man of his word, but in this case, he would do it. For the entire purpose of this little threat was to teach her compliance.

-------To demonstrate that he would not just sit idly an allow her to speak to him in the way she kept doing so. "Have you so much foolish pride that you would rather be blinded than beg for mercy?" An ironic statement for he himself was a man of great pride. He grasped her hair even more, tightening his grip so that it was practically pulling at her scalp. "Or are you just so confident in your ability to keep your eye open? For I can wait here as long as it takes." Because sooner or later, she would have to blink. And at the moment, he was giving her another ultimatum. Beg to him, and he would remove the blade. Blink, and he would stab her. One seemed evidently easier than the other, but for her, he knew it was not. And that was part of the enjoyment he was getting from this. Because neither option was easy.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Of course he would taunt her now. That was simply in his nature. He would milk this depreciatory situation to the last drop, get anything out of it he could. Because Yassia knew he had always wanted to see this. She had seen it in his eyes on that day they had parted as enemies, both refusing what their fathers had concocted for their future. Yassia just always had felt quite secure, she never would have thought that one day it would truly come to this: That she was at his mercy, on her knees before him and he could do to her whatever he wished. And Yassia also knew that this wasn’t by far the worst he could do to her. He had many means of destroying her, and she feared he would try them one by one until she was nothing but a piece of flesh to his feet. Nothing would be left of proud Princess Yassia when he was thoroughly through with her.

Which of course didn’t mean she wouldn’t still fight with teeth and claws for every ounce of dignity she could still cling on!
”I don’t cry and you know it!” she whispered, her head tilted back so far made it impossible to speak with the full volume of her voice, “These are no tears I shed, for you are not worth crying for.”
She could not, she WOULD not beg. He couldn’t go through with it, and he wouldn’t! Even a man like Vortigern couldn’t be so cruel!! Then again, scratch that, Vortigern gave the word ‘vile’ and ‘malice’ a whole new meaning. As she was forced to stare into his eyes constantly, even though her gaze now more or less unfocused, she could see the truth there in his eyes. Ice cold determination. It was not an empty threat. If she would blink he would stab her eye. Simple as that.

And then he was also asking a valid question. Her father and mother had always taught her about integrity, but explained to her that it should never be confused with vain pride. Integrity only made you strong, but pride also could make you weak. Was she really ready to sacrifice her eyesight only so she would not beg? The prouder part of Yassia was ready to put that notion to the test, while the more sensible part urged her to give in. So what if he had his life made by seeing her beg? At least she still would have two eyes to glare at him! That ought to count for something, yes?
But in the end, it was not Yassia who won the debate with herself, it was Vortigern deciding for her, even though he might not know it. She had not payed due attention to his actions along with his words, too much at a war with herself, and so when he tightened his grip even more, tearing a few hairs out, Yassia gasped in surprise and pain – and blinked.

”NO!” she exclaimed in the same second. “Don’t! Please!!”

[Vortigern]

-------And there it was! Her beg; her plea. It was what he had meant to force out with his threatening actions. Whether it was a sincere one or not, Vortigern had gotten what he wanted. He had asserted control. He had made it known to her that he held so much in the palm of his hand, her sight being only one of those things. Best she guard her words now, though in the back of Vortigern's mind he knew that was not in the nature of Yassia. Even with the blade so close to her pupil, she had still refused. Still claimed not to cry. Stick opposed the intimidation he was trying to display. Never the less, this was still a victory for him. An expected one, but a victory none the less. To scare her just for a few more moments, he slowly lowered the blade to the tip of her eye, knowing that if it would go any closer than it would puncture it.

-------He stayed like this for a couple of moments, right before he drew the blade back and simultaneously threw her to the ground. With all the pressure that he had been grasping her with, he forcefully released it. He stood on his feet once more, looking down at her, as he always would. "Good girl," he said with taunting menace. He spoke to his dogs with more praise. He had no respect for her. Her outspokenness and determination were not qualities that he admired. They were ones that made him angrier. Ones that made him deem her as an enemy rather than a woman worthy of his respect and admiration. And if things eventually played out according to his ultimate plan, such traits would be the death of her. By his hand. "Now, once you are done with your whimpering... "

-------Yes; whimpering. Because he felt she was whimpering. It was annoying really, even though he had wanted to draw the tears out of her. "Tell me the political situation of Ailantha." It was not a request, it was a command. He wanted to know the details of what was going on there. Why she had left, what state it was in, what their defenses were like... everything. He of course could not expect her to know much, for she was just a woman after all. And women were never well versed in politics [according to Vortigern's chauvinistic mind]. So she would most probably dumb it down, and he would have to be forced to make do with what he had. A naive little princess who did not know how to follow orders. But threatening to blind her was only the beginning. He could interrogate her well throughout the night, and use more cruel means of persuasion if necessary.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

The situation was teethering on knife’s edge, literally. Or rather on knife’s tip. Because even though Yassia had done as Vortigern wanted, however much her stomach churned with shame after her plea, that vile man was still not removing the blade. On the contrary! Yassia’s breath caught in her throat and for a split second she felt like falling into a deep abyss of dread when he lowered the knife even further. He had lied. He would have her eye out neverthless. She had foregone her pride for nothing! Say goodbye to the light of day, Yassia, even though you don’t see much of it down here anyway. Say goodbye to the colors of the world, and say goodbye to your beautiful face. Welcome to the world you will now live in: as an ugly cripple…
But no further cry of begging escaped Yassia’s mouth. It wouldn’t be of any use, so why bring herself down further?

And then he didn’t go through with it after all, but Yassia’s relief was short-lived, before she hit the stone ground hard as he threw her away like a useless puppet. She gasped but quickly bit her lip, trying to ignore the pain that now flamed up again. Bruises all over her body would be the least she had to worry about. She could almost feel glad for them! Slowly the flickering of hate returned to her eyes as she glared up at him. Good girl… no, she would by NO means be his good girl! He had the upper hand for now, but she would just continue to resist him until he grew tired of it and let her go! Wasn’t there this ironic saying: Who kidnaps me will take me back the following day… oh yes, she could manage that! It was amazing how quickly a spark of fighting spirit could flame up again once the immediate danger was away! Her glare only intensified as he called her whimpering. Oh, he had quite the way with depreciatory words, no doubt of that, but she wouldn’t let it get to her!!

He wanted to know about Ailantha’s politic situation?! A dreadful thought entered Yassia’s mind, and it seemed to take over until it nearly numbed her whole ability to think. Vortigern, the war tiger like they called him… he would want to exploit Ailantha’s weakened state to wage war on her beautiful kingdom! He would force information out of her until he knew enough to know what to expect and then… Sweet stars, no! She couldn’t let that happen! On the other hand, could she allow herself to stay silent for much longer? How long until he came up with an even more horrifying thread than blinding her? Knowing his wicked mind, he might already have some ideas to spare! So there it was… the perfect predicament. She needed to talk to save herself, but she couldn’t tell him anything of worth for her people’s sake! What to do, oh what to do? Unless…
”You want to know it’s political situation? Well, my father is dead. Which makes me heir to the throne”, she answered curtly. There he got it. She had told him the political situation of Ailantha, but without giving anything away he didn’t know already. Quite frankly, he was not the only one who could twist words or take them in their literal meaning.

[Vortigern]

-------When Vortigern had been inquiring about the political situation of Ailantha, he had been expecting more details. Then again, he had after all asked a woman. What could he expect her to know about politics. She was clearly incapable of understanding such complexities. Yet she was worth something, which was why he kept her here. Which was why he knew that his plan would be successful. So long as the good king Gildas did not find out. He loved his father and he was truly loyal to him...but someone would have to rule when he was dead and gone. And that someone, would be Vortigern. He needed to establish Sorelia now, and the kingdom was begging for a war. Or well, he was begging for a war. But he was the kingdom, so it made sense. "Behold!" He began to say in an exaggerated tone. "The heir to the throne, in front of me."

-------Battered and bruised, and it was a pathetic sight that brought a sinister smile of condescension and mockery. "Should I be honored? Should I bow before you?" He would do neither because he was superior. Instead, he took a few steps close to her, his towering figure looking down at her. She was beneath him, lower than him: both in the physical and symbolic way. As if he had not degraded her enough, he decided to do something else that would answer his own question. He spit on the ground next to her, for that was how he felt about her. Glaring at her for another moment, he then continued to speak. "Some heir to the throne. You are so proud of your title that you run away like a coward and abandon your people. Tell me, how is the peasant life suiting you, queen of Ailantha?" His last words were spoken with anything but respect. Her title was more said in a tone of ridicule, rather than acknowledgment and respect.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Of course he would be gloating now. Yassia had almost expected it, and was even a little relieved to see it happen. That meant Vortigern was not as unforseeable and wayward as she had feared. If his actions could be calculated to a certain extent, she might do well preying on that fact.She had to count her blessings anyway, and make do with whatever little things she could hold against him. Even halfway anticipating what he could do next would be of great help!But was gloating really the only thing he would do? She thought with a sickening tightening of her stomach as he began to tread closer yet again. Her mind might still fight back, but her body already inched away from his mere presence. It was an instinct that seemed to come natural with being beaten. How would she know, she had never been mistreated in all her life.

”Bowing would be a good start!” she heard herself say. Curse her tongue! Why couldn’t she simply stay quiet for a moment? WHEN would she learn her lessons for the star’s sake?! She was already kneeling, how much lower did she desire to go?
The spitting was probably a worse insult that any words could ever be, and Vortigern must very well know that. Anger boiled up in Yassia again and she very well wanted to spring up and hurl herself at him, trying to beat some sense into his arrogant brain. But he probably would just laugh and brush her off like a fly. She didn’t want to give hime THAT satisfaction as well, but she also knew she couldn’t stay silent to what he had said. He had put the finger right on her dearest wound, and if only to convince herself he was wrong,she would have to speak out against his twisting of the situation.

”I am NOT a coward!” she hurled at him, eyes flashing like lightening. “I am not fleeing, I am going to get help! I am doing this FOR my people, not against them! And whatever you’re doing you cannot stop me! You’re not as superior as you think, Vortigern! I bet your father knows nothing of this! I’d rather be a peasant than to insult royalty in such a way as you do, you rat!”
Once again, that was the treacherous thing about her tongue, mixed with the hot Ailanthan temper: She might start out comparatively considerate, but once she went off about something there was no stopping her. Not even in a situation such as this. She did not know where she pulled the strength for that from, just that it might not be the best thing to rely on.