The Escapist: Capture
She really didn’t know it would come to this, but then again, Artemis Doe never really knew what anything would come to. She was all about finding the answer before finding the question, all about the now and was instead of what was to come. Well, this time she knew, as her silver twin sabers cut threw the last of the attackers, that she had made a huge and fatal mistake.
It was a hot summer’s day on the battle fields of Gatopia. Artemis was in the mist of battle, hacking and slashing with the grace of a cat, killing all who opposed her. The man had come out of no were, catching the skilled fighter by surprise. A club met
her skull and all went black. When she awoke, she was in the enemy camp, chained to a wooden turn table. Her attacker and another man were looking into her red eyes, wonder and fear consuming their face. What were they really looking at? She thought quietly.
“So you were right Oleic! She did survive that bloody blow!” exclaimed her attacker, a blond giant with nothing but muscles upon muscles and baby green eyes.
The one called Oleic shook his head in disbelief, “Even I doubted myself. But this is just…” he gulped as Artemis started him down suddenly, “Are you well?”
Artemis blew a strain of sliver hair from her face and didn’t say a word. Instead she looked around the room, trying to figure out what exactly they planned to do to her. The room as just a simple tent with a high canopy. Nothing else could be seen from her view point so she looked back at the two men who were still watching her in awe.
Looking at her body, she made sure she was still clothed. Her black tunic with gold lining was a little torn and her wide spread pants were cut up to the hip, but other wise all was good. Well, at least they didn’t try to get down and dirty with me, she thought with a sense of relief.
Oleic said something to the man who attacked her, and they both left. When they came back, another man was with them. He had brown hair that touched his waist, whether beaten face with hard grey eyes, and a body meant for war. And yet he was graceful like a cat or snake.
The man smiled to Artemis and bowed, “The great Nightingale! Artemis Doe! For one so young, you sure have built a name for yourself in these past few months of war.”
Artemis shrugs the best she could, “Meh. It was not that hard, seeing it’s your army I was fighting against Lord Dave.”
Lord Dave chuckled, “Ah I see you have spunk! Tell me, how are you feeling?”
She blew a strain of silver hair from her face and sarcastic smiled, “Oh I’ve been better. But what can ya do when you get clubbed in the head then chained to a table?”
With yet another laugh, Dave petted her on the cheek, “Oh my son will love you Nightingale. He has been dieing to meet you.”
And I bet he’ll be dieing to get rid of me when I’m done with him, thought Artemis.
That was 4 months ago, and Artemis wished she had been smarter on the battlefield, instead of daring. She sat on a purple carpet, legs crossed, looking across the room to Gust, Lord Dave’s first born child. He laid there, asleep in a simple white tunic, black hair loose from its straw holder, handsome as ever.
The young prince had yet to try and force her into submission, but he did make her wear very annoying outfits when he saw fit. Now, she wore a black sheer gown that stopped a little past the hips and a tight undergarment that made her breast look bigger and her waist smaller. All because she had said he was being childish again with his food.
Yawning, Artemis closed her eyes. She sensed Gust awakening, and felt a gentle hand touch her leg.
“Are you awake my little dove?” he asked her with a soft voice.
She looked into his bright green eyes and smiled softly. For the prince of a tyrant, he was very kind, and very brave. You will make a fine king one day, she thought to herself.
He smiled back and turned on his back, looking up at the ceiling, “I had another dream about us. We were together on the beach this time, talking about our lives, dreaming of whatever young people dream of. You were crying then, saying ‘I’m sorry, but I must leave.’” He looked at her, “You won’t leave me will you my lady?”
Artemis looked at him and shrugged, “It is not my place to say if I will leave or if I shall stay. I am a prisoner of war, not a servant of peace.”
The prince sighed and sat up, avoiding her eyes, “Yes I know. And I know you will never love me as I love you.” He smiled then and looked at her, “But I believe in dreams, and my dreams are filled with you and you’re freedom with me.”
“No more then lust of my body, and love of my resentment I assure you my prince.”
“Ha. Maybe so, but it would still be nice,” Gust closed his eyes and kissed her gently, knowing the kiss would not be returned.
Artemis sighed softly as he got up and went to wash. She stood with him and began to undress; pulling back on her now renewed black battle tunic, pants and sandals. She managed to get back her brown war gloves, but not her sword.
But that was okay. She was still Artemis the Nightingale. The Demonic Song. The Angel of Blood Wing. Even as a captive, the enemy feared her and her temper. She was treated like a royal, only servant to their graces the prince and King.
But a whore girl to her graces the Queen…
