Infatuation (King George III xreader)

~11~ Kidnapped by a king

"Relax little lady. You're in good hands."

My blood ran cold with the simple order - the deep, stern tone easily recognized even in my frantic state and I cry out once more.

I force my eyes open - wanting to look at the stars in hopes of anything to send me a sign - yet the glinting reflection of glass kept my gaze on the man who placed a small, dark brown bottle in the pocket of his coat.

His red, button decorated and white trimmed coat.

My chest falls and I try to step back - my heels scraping against the ground as the taller of the two men steps forward.
In his hands was another white strip of cloth, which he brought up despite my pleading expression and cries telling him to stop.

He was too close for me to kick.

I turn my head, closing my eyes tightly and my racing heart screams at me to do something as the man's hands wrap the cloth around my head - covering my eyes and my borderline trembling hands grab the man's arm in an attempt to stop him from tying the knot behind my head.

"One of you, run back to the ship and inform him that were on our way." The deeper voice orders softly and the ground shifts with a quickly departing frame before metal clicks together - a thin yet sturdy rustling of hard surfaces leaving me with one answer as to what it could be - and one option left to my lack of choices.

My chest falls once more - my head starting to fog over thoughts and my hands grasp the sheer fabric covering my shoulders as my upper body pulls against the male behind me — and with a quick yank I shed the shawl from my frame, tossing it to my feet as the men chuckle.

"I didn't peg her as much of a fighter."
The man in front of me held an amused tone - and as I shiver at the cold night air my left foot kicks out just enough to step on the newly discarded article of clothing, pulling it to lay under the hem of my skirt.

I could only hope they wouldn't see it - that they hadn't seen it.

My body flinches at the feeling cold metal clasping around my left wrist, my muffled cries getting weaker and I pull my right hand away at the touch of the male's fingers, yet his grasp easily caught it before pulling it closer and shutting the metal cuff around it.

His hands held mine in place - my knees feeling like straw and the rag over my mouth loosens.

I inhale what felt like a dying breath — my mind sick with fear.

"Stop- please someone-"
My pleas were once again muffled by the damp rag that was now being tied behind my head despite my struggles.

Someone needed to hear me, see what was going on and help me - but the circumstantial luck I had earlier that day seemed to have ran dry.

Each breath stung with a feeling that left me dizzy.

The hands on my shoulders turn my frame and I catch my footing, shaking my head as one of the men lifts my hands while the other made quick work of throwing a blanket over my frame, wrapping it loosely.
The thin material was somewhat cold, yet soft against my skin - falling over my head.
I was then picked up despite my protests - the man in front of me throwing my frame over his shoulder like I was nothing more than a sack of grain, before another thin, yet larger blanket gets thrown on top of me.

I cry out with panic as myself and the blanket were adjusted, a pair of large hands helping to keep me in place with one finding a hold on my lower thigh.

Another pair of hands lift my ankles and I cry out once more - hitting the taller male's back as the bottom hem of my dress falls just enough to where the other male could wrap the rough texture of what I could only assume was rope around my legs. His free hand moves my dress down a little more so it fell to my mid calf, fixing his hands so he could then tie a tight, quick knot.