Warning: Slightly graphic, nothing more than PG-13 though :)
Viktor waited until the others were fast asleep. Once he could hear snores emitting from the other's tents, he soundlessly slipped from his own and made his way over to the silver-haired woman. In the moonlight he could make out her small form and grinned sinfully.
He dug the key to the cage out of his pocket and opened the door. The creek of the rusty hinges stirred Rowan awake.
She sat up blinking, confused as to what the man wanted. It was not yet dawn and he didn't have any food in his hand for her so what else could he be here for? She could smell the alcohol emitting from his body along with the stench of filth, causing the hair on her arms to rise.
"Kacper told me to take you two to relieve yourselves," Viktor said in his most believable voice he could manage. Rowan looked around the camp, realizing everyone was fast asleep. "In the middle of the night?" she asked skeptically.
"He told me to take you two before we went to bed but I fell asleep. Look if you don't have to go it makes my job easier," he said, pretending closing the door slightly.
"Wait!" Rowan whispered loudly, stopping him. Her nearly full bladder reminded her that she did have to go to the bathroom rather badly.
Viktor hid his smile in the shadows before looking back to her. She looked back at the Rorik before turning around to face him, "Take Bjorn first," she commanded. With all of the mead Kacper had forced him to drink she couldn't imagine how full his must have been. Plus it would probably do him some good to walk around and sober up.
Viktor's smile fell and was replaced with a frown. Every moment that passed was another he could get caught. But if taking the drunk boy to the woods first ensured that the striking Gladeswoman would willingly go afterwards then he would do it. "Fine," he said, then climbed into the cart and retrieved Bjorn.
He groaned as Viktor slid him across and propped him onto his feet. With one hand he turned around and locked the iron door with the woman inside. He then slung Bjorn's arm around his shoulder and walked him into the woods. The boy's feet caught branches and vines and caused him to stumble a few times, annoying the mercenary.
Viktor suddenly dropped him, causing Bjorn to land on the ground in a heap. He grunted but picked himself up on all fours and heaved whatever food was in his stomach. Viktor rolled his eyes at his inability to hold his mead for when he was his age he was able to drink double the amount before he would retch.
After a few moments passed, Bjorn was able to stand up on his own, feeling slightly better. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stumbled over to the creek to rinse the left over bile. Viktor allowed him to do so, for he didn't want to smell the sour stench of vomit on their way back. "Where's Rowan?" Bjorn asked Viktor weakly as he staggered his way back over to him. His throat burned and he felt very dizzy and sick.
Viktor didn't respond and practically dragged him back until they got in eyesight of the cart. He could see Rowan searching for them in the fog and she relaxed once they emerged from the trees, watching as they slowly made their way back.
Viktor propped Bjorn against the cage and worked on the lock quickly.
Rowan could see in the faint moonlight the familiar tan fingers that gripped the iron bars and she rested her hand on his. Even though it was only for a moment, the contact between the two brought her comfort as well as sorrow as it reminded her of their predicament.
Once Viktor opened the lock and door he hoisted Bjorn into the same cage as Rowan, not bothering to place him in the rear cell. For when he would bring the Gladeswoman back she would be too broken and distraught to even care if she were with the boy and he reveled in the thought.
Rowan looked down at Bjorn who was half-conscious at the moment. His face was wet and a few of his black curls stuck to his face, somehow making him look younger than he really was. His lips parted and he tried to tell her to stay with him for he had a bad feeling about Viktor, but it only came out as incoherent mumbles.
"I think I should stay and make sure he is okay," Rowan said, not tearing her eyes off of the Bjorn's handsome face. She could hear a low growl escape from Viktor, "The boy is drunk, not dying. He will be fine. Let's go, I wish to go back to sleep." He was growing agitated with the woman and he was only moments away from snatching her down and dragging her away into the forest.
With a small sigh she obliged and hopped down from the tumbril and begrudgingly followed Viktor into the fog laced forest. The air was damp and as they walked, wisps of the white haze would swirl around as if dancing.
After a minute or so of walking they finally stopped. The moon shined through the pines, casting an eerie glow. "Why so far away? No one could see us out here with the cover of night," Rowan inquired as she held out her hands so Viktor could secure the rope. He tied it tight around her wrists and it irritated the previous wounds but she didn't complain.
He gave a sinister laugh, "Pretty boy couldn't hold his ale. I didn't want to stand around it," he answered, "make it quick. I still wish to sleep." He firmly grasped the rope in his hands and nodded his head, dismissing her.
Rowan walked a few yards out to the nearest tree, the rope taut, and turned around to see Viktor hadn't looked away. With one long glance he slowly turned his back to her, giving her privacy. He gave her an uneasy feeling but she pushed it away. All of these men do.
It wasn't until she was pulling up her breeches that she realized the rope had gone slack.
Her heart dropped as she whipped her head back and forth, trying to look for any signs of him in the thick fog. Maybe an animal had gotten him?
Slowly, she could hear the rope scrape against the pine needles and feel faint tugs as it would catch on bushes. Adrenaline rushed through her body but she tried her best to hold her composure.
Viktor's deep laugh rang out into the air sending shivers down her spine. As he appeared menacingly through the haze Rowan slowly backed up until she could feel the rough bark of the tree behind her. Realization struck her as she understood he had tricked her to come into the woods. Shite. Kacper had not ordered him to take us to relieve ourselves, he had done so on his own accord. But why?
She swallowed the lump in her throat and held her head high in hopes to conceal her fear, "Take me back to the camp," she said in a steady voice.
Viktor laughed at her again, "Oh I will. Just as soon as we had our fun."
"What is with these men and their games and always wanting to have fun?" Rowan thought to herself as she remembered Kacper the other night before he grew angry. Their versions of fun were quite the opposite in her mind, for when she thought of having fun she pictured herself training or exploring the Glade with her cousin Darsa and Fiona.
She shook her head, "As I said before I do not drink." She didn't see how indulging yourself with ale and other spirits was fun anyways. What was with this man? Was he slow? Had he not heard her earlier? Then again Bjorn had said the same thing and they forced him to drink so maybe it didn't matter if she repeated herself.
Another deep chortle escaped from Viktor as he advanced on her, intrigued at her innocence, "That isn't the kind of fun I was referring too."
Rowan raised an eye brow, not sure what he could possibly mean. Just then Viktor grasped the rope in his hands and yanked it forwards, sending her crashing into his chest. She winced at the pain that radiated from her bound wrists, but she was quickly distracted by an awful smell.
His stench invaded her nose and she almost gagged. He grasped her shoulders firmly and attempted to push her to the ground.
"Unhand me!" she yelled, but it was no use as he stuck his foot out and tripped her, forcing her onto the ground with him on top, causing small rocks and sticks to dig into her skin. Viktor pinned her arms above her head and wedged a large leg in between her own. His weight pushed the air out from her lungs, making it hard to breath.
"Bjorn!" she tried to shout, but it was weak. Even if he did hear her he wouldn't be able to make it out of the cage on time, and even then he was still to inebriated to fight Viktor.
"Get off me! Bjorn! Bjorn!" she tried to call again, this time it came out loud enough to where she could hear her own echo.
Viktor's lips crashed onto hers, kissing her sloppily, wanting to silence her and taste what he had been imagining for days. She grew confused yet repulsed at the same time. Why on earth is he kissing me? He clearly does not care for me as Bjorn, so why would this brute show affection? She simply did not understand. His kiss was nothing like Bjorn's, for his was sweet and gentle and had passion behind it that made her feel alive and rejuvenated. She felt guilty that another man had claimed her lips, for they only belonged to the handsome Rorik with black tousled hair and emerald eyes.
Viktor's breath was stale, tasting like old mead and something else that was rank that she could not place. She tried to turn her head away but he only pressed against her even harder and gripped her hair to keep her still.
He shoved his tongue into her mouth and wiggled it around like a snake. As he grabbed her breast and squeezed roughly, it was then that Rowan realize what he was attempting to do. Her blood ran ice cold and she fought harder against his heavy form. His free hand trailed to her thighs, roughly grasping them with his calloused hands.
At this realization, anger filled every ounce of her body. She refused to let this trash have his way with her.
As he continued to invade her mouth, she bit down hard on his tongue, instantly tasting the metallic flavor of blood. He growled and pulled away, then drew his arm back and backhanded her across her right cheek with such force her vision became blurry.
Viktor looked down at the woman and grasped the collar of her tunic, then yanked it down roughly, ripping it just enough to see an ample amount of her cleavage. His member grew enlarged and stabbed the Gladeswoman in her thigh. He looked down slowly with hungry eyes, then raked over her body. "I am going to enjoy this. And who knows, maybe you will too," he said in a deep, ragged voice.
As Rowan blinked her eyes to focus, she noticed he had let go of the rope. It lay a few feet away on the cold ground beside her. This gave her an idea. She looked down at Viktor who was busy fiddling with his trousers.
Not wanting to miss her chance, she quickly reached over, clutching the dark brown rope, then wrapped it around his neck thrice before he even knew what was happening. She pulled her wrists back to constrict it, and gave a small smile as she watched him gasp for air and claw at his throat. He sputtered and gurgled as if he were trying to talk. She wondered if it was him now that was trying to call for help. Good.
Soon his dark eyes began to bulge and his face changed from the shade of red to blue.
She couldn't help as the past few days flashed through Rowan's mind: being taken from her safe bed that night, having to watch Bjorn be beaten on numerous occasions, the mistreatment they both had received as they were tossed around, the freezing nights, the lack of food, and now this.
Rowan sneered, rage flowing freely. She collected a mixture of blood and saliva and spat in his blue face, then pulled even tighter.
She enjoyed watching the life slip slowly from his eyes, making sure to not even blink for she didn't want to miss a moment of his death.
Once he fell limp on her body and the last bit of life drained from his eyes, she laid her head back onto the forest floor. Panting, she tried to catch her breath.
Rowan was overwhelmed with emotion and allowed herself a few tears to fall down her cheeks. Sure she had killed people before--that's what happens when you go to war. But she had never killed someone in such a way as she had Viktor. This was different and even though he deserved what happened and more, it laid heavy on her heart.
The lack of food had taken its toll on her body and she suddenly felt weak. The adrenaline had long left her, leaving an empty shell.
After a few more minutes, she attempted to wiggle herself out from under him. It was hard and took her some time, but she finally managed to do so. She knew she needed to get back to the camp, perhaps even take Bjorn and make their escape.
She looked down at the mercenary and anger filled her one last time. She used her fury to roll his massive body over, the dug through his pockets until she found the key. She closed her eyes and said a small prayer for Viktor though it would most likely do him no good, then stood and navigated her way back to the camp.
As she trekked back, the only thing she could think about was what Kacper and his men would do to her once they found out. She remember that he had said he had to bring her back alive, but would this cross the line? Would more abuse ensue?
As she drew closer, she knew that whatever the punishment may be it was worth it.