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marie-dufresne · 6 years

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✈ - an eye-opening memory

Marie had been bad.

She was not bad in the typical way a fourteen year old girl was bad. That was to say she hadn’t thrown a tantrum over girlfriend drama or her nail technician giving her attitude, or even that the new car that had been appointed for her transportation was all the wrong colour.

No, Marie Dufresne had been bad in the sense that she had broken one of Arthur’s Rules. She had broken A Rule and it had cost him a contract.

He had not spoken to her for two days which was not unusual, but he had also cleared her schedule for a full two weeks and only once in the two years in which she had been working for her father had she ever been cleared of her schedule. She’d been ill with a contagious fever, then.

“You need time to think.”

That’s what he’d told her when he sent her off in her car with a ticket to a destination she did not know of until she departed.

Niflheim.

She’d never been there before and knew very few people who even hailed from the great mass so she did not understand just why, of all places, she was being sent there.

She was welcomed by another driver who called her home to confirm she had, in fact, arrived safely, and began the long trek to just wherever it was she would be housed for the time, to do this ‘thinking’.

The ‘house’ was much like hers in that it was no house at all, but a great estate with more rooms than any one or many persons could ever possible explore in a lifetime. This was made not with the striking, intricate detailed architecture of Altissia, but a cold, fortress style and with its outer walls covered in ice, Marie wondered just what its purpose was.

Did it keep enemies out?

Or was it meant to keep her in?

Her unease was assuaged for a while by the appearance of the young lord, Colin Devereaux, who kept this isolated castle, a striking young man who did not look quite like the other inhabitants of this land, his hair dark, but not too dark, slicked back as a gentleman ought. His eyes were soft and gentle, and when he took her hand, a kiss was laid across her knuckles like something she’d seen in her romantic films.

His staff fed her and then she was shown to her chambers. When he requested that she undress and meet him through the door on the far side of the room, it was the first time Marie had been excited to do so. Though she’d only been in existence for fourteen years, she’d grown and matured much in he past two, and, determined to please this handsome young lord, she practiced a few poses in the floor length mirror, tilting her head, lowering her lashes, and throwing a few flirtatious smiles to test herself, to see just what he might like best from her.

She would not keep this one waiting, wondering if perhaps she’d been sent here to unwind, or to be taught by someone much closer to her own age (he couldn’t have been much older than nineteen if she were to guess). She did not like being in the business of pleasure, but if she were to keep her position in her family, she would have to do everything in her power to remain desirable, no matter how young.

When she stepped through the doorway, however, the unease returned.

Colin himself was not undressed, remaining, in fact, quite formal. So formal that Marie felt well, naked wasn’t quite the word for it as she was naked.

Vulnerable.

That was the word. She did not feel quite as right as she had a few moments ago.

A woman laid across the bed, all blonde hair and breasts, very easily the image of Marie in five or so years, her smile lazy, legs sliding all across the silk sheets, waiting to begin. Above her, a leather. . .something hung from the ceiling. A harness, most likely, from what it looked like, and Marie needed not dig very deep in her imagination to think of what it might be used for.

“Miss Dufresne,” Colin greeted, holding out his hand. If he saw her apprehension, he did not note it, “meet Natalia. She is a whore as well; you’ll enjoy her.”

Though she had reached to take the hand that was extended to her, Marie pulled back, lips pursed together for a moment.

“I am not a whore.” She was firm in this, the word casting an ugly shadow over her. She was not a whore. She was an heiress who held the duty of keeping her father’s clients and business partners happy.

Not. A whore.

Colin chuckled in apology. “Forgive me, perhaps there is a different word for it in Accordo.”

Regaining her place, as she was getting much better at doing, Marie offered a smile, brushing that horrid word aside.

“You favor blondes,” she noted, “or are we the only option available to you?”

“I favor no one,” he replied gesturing for Natalia to climb up into the harness and moving to assist her, “and you are not here because I’ve paid for you. Your father has sent you here.”

When he looked at her next, beckoning her forward, his face was not quite the same. It might have looked the same to those who were not well versed in the art of reading men, but Marie was steadily becoming an expert on the matter. She had not been wrong when she sensed that something was not quite right, and now she was realizing that it was he who was not quite right. Still, she stepped forward, doing exactly as he asked.

With a smile that did not reach his eyes, he helped her up onto the grand mattress, easing her down onto her back and pulling on her ankles until she was positioned directly underneath the beautiful Natalia, not more than eight inches between them.

There was leather around her wrists and her breath hitched as her arms, and then her legs were spread apart, the long strips of leather secured to each of the four bedposts by iron clasps. She swallowed, and at Natalia’s instruction, she breathed.

She’d been tied up before; this wasn’t new, but this man was so different from the suave gentleman from only an hour ago. This man, this version of this man, was tactical and cold.

“Do—do you have instruments as well?” she wondered, wanting to know the full extent of just what sort of pleasures he enjoyed, and he let out a low hum in response.

“I will not touch you,” he told her, ignoring the question, “you are a child.”

Marie’s brows knit together and she looked to the side, her face questioning as he secured the last strap, locked, metal on metal, her limbs too taut to move. She could not struggle.

“But then why—“

“I have no interest in the destruction of your body, Miss Dufresne,” he told her, coming to her side to offer her a gentle smile and a soft stroke of her cheek before he sighed.

“But you have been bad. And bad girls need punishing.”

Punishing.

The word crawled underneath her skin and scattered like shards of ice through her veins. This was why she’d been sent away. Punishment. A punishment Arthur and his men could not inflict upon her in Altissia, a punishment to instill in her the importance of The Rules.

He offered nothing more then, procuring a blade from the sideboard, and with warning to neither of the females on the bed, gripped Natalia’s hair, sinking the knife into her exposed throat and with no expression at all, sliced cleanly through her flesh to her navel, moving through some of the harness straps effortlessly.

Gravity worked its wonders, blood and organs usually kept so neatly inside by flesh and muscle splattering onto the bed, onto Marie who lay there, wide eyed and unable to come out of her shock, the feeling of her mind trying to shut it out, throwing up defenses and realities that were not this one, but they all failed.

“I’ll let you think about what you’ve done,” Colin announced, wiping off the blade before placing it back on the sideboard, making an annoyed tsk at the blood on his cuff, then at the fresh, hanging corpse above his new plaything. He left the room fully lit, locking the door behind him.

Then, Marie began to scream.

#cut for insane length and fuckeduppery #so um this is a thing that happens when you rp with me #applicable to all the Legacy verses actually just different locations obvs #luciancityguard #Now you know 💋 | Answered

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