Innocent Prisoner

PART FOUR


"Lady, I done told you, I aint no one's pet!" Logan was now surrounded by guards who were armed with spears, but Logan was easily tossing them aside and making his way over to where the Queen was standing. "Now, let the boy go, or I'm gonna be not so nice to have around."

The Queen smirked and stared at Logan, daringly. "Why don't you put your hostility to better use? Pet doesn't seem to want to be rescued. I know he's been looking at you and wanting you. Come play, and don't be so mean."

"Don't do it, mon ami. That petite is crazy!" Remy called to him from across the room.

"Smart boy." She winked at Gambit and then turned around and headed towards her chambers. "Put them back in their cage." She told the guards.

Rheyne was removed from the middle of the throne room, and placed on the left side of the Queen's large and plush satin bed. He had slipped in and out of consciousness, and in that time, he was bathed and his wounds were treated. He was clean, again and his manhood had been covered by a thin piece of soft cloth. He lay on his back and his wrists had been pulled up over his head and bound to the brass headboard. His ankles, although left to move freely, had been bound separately and held by ropes that were in turn bound to floor over the end of the bed. The Queen had once again been inventive in his torture. Beside him, on the bedside table, sat a small cup filled with red liquid. He could only guess it was tainted with something to prolong his erection.

A loud clatter had arose from outside the chambers. The Queen had wanted Rheyne to bed the brawny, ill-tempered Logan. He knew it would hurt. Shouts and more clatter came from the other room. Logan was being difficult, and letting the guards know it. Rheyne could tell, he didn't want to piss Logan off, and he barely knew him.

The Queen had sat down beside him, on the bed. He looked up at her and awaited her next move. She was calm and even. She had dressed herself in a long blue satin robe, and covered her body in lilac oil. She smelled intoxicating, and looked even more beautiful than before. She was different somehow, more softer and kinder to him, as if it was a demon that possessed her and made her be cruel to her husband.

"My love, perhaps, it will just be us tonight." She put a hand against his opposite cheek and smiled at him. "It doesn't have to be painful, if you are nice to me. My darling, I know you think I am cruel, but an heir must be provided. A strong, powerful, righteous and feared leader. He will be great." She leaned over her and kissed his lips. She could tell he was exhausted from the ragged events of earlier. Her other hand reached up to his wrists and lightly rubbed the ropes that were tied, tightly, around his delicate wrists. She looked at the rope and then back to him. She then untied the ropes and moved his arms to lie beside him. "I have something that will make you feel better, pet. And, after you drink it, we can play however you like. Won't that be fun, love?" She whispered as she helped him to sit up. She handed him the cup with the red liquid in it, and held the cup to his lips as he drank it.

He had forgotten that he was very thirsty and hungry. He hadn't eaten in two days, and his stomach refused to be quiet. Still, he drank the liquid, not knowing what would happen to him or how he'd feel afterwards. The taste had been of sweet water, and it had a scent of roses. When he finished, she propped pillows up behind him and let him rest there for a moment.

He was beginning to feel better. He had more energy than he had had in two weeks. He could move his arms and legs, and not wince in pain. He raised a hand to her hair, and felt her soft blonde hair. He raised himself up and kissed her, softly. She allowed him to touch her. He was allowed to kiss her, on the lips, and not be pushed away. He backed away, and waited. When she did nothing, he raised his free hand to the collar of her robe. His hands trembled, as he lowered his hand to the thin lace belt that held her robe shut. His eyes focused on her expression. He hesitated and then slowly untied it.

Illyria stared back at him, blankly. She knew the potion had taken over, or could it be just his lust for her.

He reached up with both hands now, and was carefully peeling away her robe, off of her shoulders. He was visibly trembling, now. She was letting him undress her, and wasn't rushing him or treating him like a slave. He kissed her again, on the lips and then on her cheek, and jawbone, and neck until he reached her collarbone. She smelled wonderful. And clean. Her skin was smooth and shiny. It glowed as he continued kissing his way down to her breasts. He couldn't help but take in her body. Eventhough, he had seen it a dozen or so times before, he had never noticed her beauty. Kissing her left breast, he clanced up to meet her eyes. His tongue played with her hard nipple, lightly, and smiled when he heard her moan softly in pleasure.

Illyria watched as he pulled away, briefly, to reposition himself on the floor in front of her. He knelt so that her knees faced his chest. She began moving them apart for him, and had raised a hand up to play with his hair. She had thought about being cruel to him, but her thoughts were silenced as he guided her back to lie on the bed. He then teased her as he kissed up her thigh and licked at her soft, pink, fuzz-less lips.

Rheyne moved up slowly, and dipped his tongue between her pink lips. Her juice was sweet and warm. He lapped at it, lazily. He worked his tongue at her clit, until he had brought her so close to orgasm. Backing away, he crept up overtop of her so that he was looming over her now, virtually excited and now panting form. He kissed her lips, again. He wanted to show her how good she tasted. He could feel her fingers roaming over his body. He tensed a bit, but let her roam freely. He paused as she curled her fingers around his now very erect manhood. He panted in her ear before asking, "Please, may I have my lovely bride, if just for this night?"

He was now 6 inches away from her, and staring straight into her eyes for the answer. She was thinking about the question. He smiled to her as he felt her take his manhood and place it just inside of her now fully wet, velvet opening. The both moaned in pleasure. He pushed slowly into her and had begun to move in a relaxed rhythm. He gradually incresed his speed, and eventually she had rolled them over so that she was on top. Rheyne watched her move mercilessly up and down in a frantic pace. With his hands on her hips, he watched her as she had now taken over. He could feel it building, his orgasm. His body tensed and he lifted his hips up off the bed and deep into her, as he came completely. It wouldn't be the only time, tonight. He knew that for certain.

Time passed, and they were now at an eratic pace. He was on top again, and she was writhing beneath him. Rheyne was moving faster than before and panting and crying. He was releasing the weeks of pent up pain and aggression, while trying to make her understand that he loved her completely. He moved faster and faster before they had both reached climax. The Queen had been lying on her side of the bed, now. Her hands clenched the pillow tightly and she kept her eyes on Rheyne. His sweat-dampened hair bounced at each thrust.

When orgasm hit both of them, and then died down, he held her tightly, and shook as his body was then overtaken with exhaustion. He rolled off to the left of her and fell asleep as his head hit the pillow beside hers. His release had hit at full force, and eventhough the potion was still working through his bloodstream, he was still exhausted.

The Queen had remained awake, and was watching him sleep beside her. She had rolled onto her side, and was face to face with his sleeping form. A knock at the door, disturbed her. She pulled her satin comforter over her naked and sweat-ridden body. "Come."

A tall figure opened the door, and came in. He was a bit taken back from the sight of the Prince asleep in the Queen's bed and she wasn't ordering the guards to bathe him and return him to his cell. "Your majesty, The brawny man in the cell with the others has managed to cause quite an uproar with the other guards. We've struck him, but he won't go down. What should we do?" His gaze never left the sleeing Prince inbetween them.

"Use the redheaded one to calm him down. If that doesn't work, have him bound and placed in the tower. We will break him yet. As for the others, the French one, and the girls, keep them from him at all costs." Her tone was harsh and completely opposite from the scene the guard was staring at.

"Shall I toss the Prince back into his cell?" The guard was clearly annoyed that the Prince was allowed to sleep in he same bed as the Queen.

Illyria looked down at her sleeping husband. She covered him with the comforter, "No. Let him sleep. The potion has not completely released him yet.

The guard bowed and hurried out of the room.

The Queen lay back down beside him and traced an invisible pattern on his bare chest. She stared at his face, the glistening of his skin in the candlelight. She watched his expressions change from a slight smile to uncertainty to sadness. She watched as he rolled onto his back and sighed. She smirked to herself and then began uncovering him and running her free hand over his taut stomach, while the other arm had been used to prop herself up on her elbow. Her hand eased down to his recovering erection. She let her finger trace its length from tip to base and back. It grew harder with each tease. She gave her lips a quick wetting and then leaned forward to taste his erection that was still sticky from their last encounter. Her tongue stabbed at it and lapped at it. She ran the tip of it over the head, and smiled again as she heard him moan in pleasure. She teased him a bit more before burying his whole length in her mouth.

Rheyne gasped, but remained asleep.

She started to suck on it, and roll it along her tongue. Her fingers helped at the base, running up and down in a brisk motion. She was sure she could drive him insane while he slept. She sucked a bit harder and felt him pulsate and begin to tense. He was moaning and gasping again. This time, a bit louder than before. She continued until a hand at the side of her head, began smoothing her hair again. The Queen shot up and backed away from him.

The Prince had been awake for half of her fun. "Please no, my Queen. Do not stop. I will gladly give up my climax for your enjoyment."

"Your Queen? For my enjoyment?" She looked at him in shock.

"Yes. I only wish to pleasure you, and make you happy to love me, again. Or, was I only a toy on a shelf for you?" Rheyne sat up and took her hand in his. "Please, my love, let me excite you again."

"Then kneel, on the floor before me, and show me with yourself, how much you love your Queen." She pointed to the bare floor before the bed.

The Prince's eyes dropped and he got up from the bed and stood where she was still pointing. He knelt and breathed a sigh. He looked down at his own erection before taking it in his hand and bringing his gaze back up to stare at the Queen, who was sitting on the bed in amazement. He began to stroke himself, lightly and then work himself up into a pace. He was so hard and wanted so bad to show her how he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. His pace quickened, and he kept it for a good four minutes. He could feel it building. It pushed ever upward, painfully. And finally, he climaxed, his body shook frantically and white liquid covered his stomach and hands. Rheyne let his body slump to sit fully on the cold stone floor. He panted and looked at his hands and the mess that covered them. "Does this prove to you, my love?" He looked up at her and then cast his stare on the floor as she stared back at him in disgust.

"We shall see what the Fate says, tomorrow. Guard!"

The same guard had thrown open the doors and ran to stand behind Rheyne.

"See that he is bathed and clothed in his rags. Take him back to his cell." With a wave of her hand, she turned away from them.

The guard grabbed Rheyne by the arm, roughly, and picked him up. He then escorted Rheyne into a private bath that the Queen had granted to be his, alone. Two servants came in and were instructed to run bath water but then leave afterward.

The water was run, and the servants had left. The guard had shut the door behind them, and then locked it. He turned back to Rheyne, who had hudled in a corner and was watching him, terrified.

Pointing to his feet, the guard sneered at the Prince to sit before him. When there was no compliance, the guard marched over and grabbed him by the arm, gruffly. He then began pulling the Prince towards the bath. The guard grabbed a cloth, wet it, and began to harshly clean Rheyne's body. "I don't know why she wants you clean. If I had my way, you'd be on the stretcher until I said to release you. And then, you'd be put to death, freak! The Queen doesn't deserve to waste her time on you." He worked his way down Rheyne's body, and his washings seemed to get even more rough as he came to Rheyne's manhood.

When he was done, the guard threw the Prince a towel and let him dry off and clothe himself, before he was returned to his cell.

After the cell door had shut behind him and the guard walked away, he made his way to sit in a dark corner and huddled under his dirty blanket.

"Are you all right, shugah?" Rogue asked, calmly.

Rheyne nodded. "We should rest, it will be morning soon and the Fate will be here."

*************

They were taken out on a balcony of the castle. The four X-Men were forced to stand off to the side in power-deflecting bonds. Out of all, Logan was the closest to Rheyne, yet he stood a full 30 feet from him.

Rheyne, himself, stood in the center of the platform. He faced the large and gathered crowd, his face dimmed with sadness. He stared past the people and off into the distance. His hands were bound in front of him, and the chains bolted to the floor. His lean body moved slightly with the soft breeze of the wind. He knew what was coming. He also knew, as he stared into the now fading purple and darkening gray storm clouds, that before him, was his last sight.

Illyria, who had been sitting in a plush chair behind him, smiled in amusement and strode up to stand behind Rheyne. She snaked her thin arms around his chest and layed her head on his shoulder blade. After a moment of silence, she let out a contented sigh and lifted her head up so that her lips were brushing his left ear. "You know, Rheyne, I love you. And our child will be just like his father. Don't take this so hard, pet. Your father brought this upon himself as well as his son. I'm sure the fates will be gentle with you. And, here they come. Be brave, my love." She whispered. Kissing his cheek, and stepping back to her chair, she smiled again.

A large ball of light came closer and closer to the Prince. It landed beside him and melted into a form of an old yet still youthful looking woman. She stood to his left and let her eyes take in his full figure and essence.

The silence of the kingdom was overwhelming. The villagers hadn't moved from their positions. Gazing upward, petrified with fear as if their presence were known to the Fate, they too would be judged like him.

The Fate, on the other hand, was too busy staring at the sorrowful Prince, in front of her. A heavy sigh came from her, before blinking and lowering her gaze. She admired how the Prince's eyes never left the horizon. But, now she had to force him to change his gaze to her. "My sturdy Prince Rheyne. I blessed you with a long life, when you were wrapped in your mother's tired arms. And now, you stand before me as your punishment. Fear not my judgment upon you. You have been a good, strong young lord." Extending a hand to his now visibly shaking shoulder, she shushed him and then wiped a tear from his pale cheek.

The Queen, who had been watching with a bored expression, huffed in a muted rush. She wanted this spectacle to be over and done with. Getting up from her chair, she stood and tapped her foot. "Your grace, I'm sorry this meeting is bittersweet to you, however, I am a very busy lady. Could we please hurry this along?" Illyria tried to control her tone as much as she could. Yet, the hostility in her voice spoke volumes to the Fate.

"Patience, my dear!" The old woman warned.

By this time, Logan could stay silent no more. "Listen lady, the boy aint who you want! It's that bitch over there who you should—" He was cut off by the Fate turning to face him and silencing him with her hand.

"And, who are you, outsider? What do you know of this kingdom and its order?" She walked over toward Logan and stopped just a few feet in front of him.

"Logan…" Jean hushed him, before he could speak.

"Your grace, forgive him for interrupting however, he is right. Before you judge the Prince, shouldn't you at least find out if you are doing the right thing?" Jean spoke just above a whisper.

"I need not question my own judgments. Outsider, concern yourself not with him but, with yourself." With that, she turned and walked back to Rheyne.

Tears had begun to fall free down his cheeks and dampen his worn shirt. His eyes had refocused on the now building storm, just off into the distance. How ironic to go out with a thunderstorm on the brink. His breath had become shallow and erratic. His hands balled themselves into fists and started to tingle while his nails dug into his palms. He had to lock his knees so that they wouldn't collapse from under him.

"Oh get this over with already. He has been sentenced to punishment for mutiny. These prisoners have no idea what they're talking about. Could we please get on with it?!" The Queen stood up and stomped her foot. She had become nervous and overly anxious.

"ENOUGH!" The old woman had begun to glow brightly, again. This time lifting up off the ground and hovering, just in front of Rheyne. With a gentle push, she forced the Queen back into her chair. "Prince Rheyne of Mallent, your time has passed and your punishment has been chosen. Prepare yourself for your judgment."

"Wait! Stop! You don't know what you are doing!" Remy called.

"The Prince isn't your target. Please, you must listen to us!" Rogue had joined in on the calling to the Fate.

Before anyone could say anything else, Rogue had been hit with a beam of red light. She fell limply into Remy's arms.

Jean had broken through her psychic restraints and sent waves of images to the old woman. The same painful and shocking clips that Rheyne had sent her, even before she and the others had rushed to his aid. Jean had begun to feel herself getting sick to her stomach as she viewed these events all over again.

The old woman's face had begun to stiffen and change from assurance to doubt and disgust. She took in what she had seen, and then glided over to Jean's now shaking figure. She surveyed the younger woman and asked, "Is this true, what you have shown me?"

Jean mustered up enough strength to nod her head and look up at the towering form. She leaned on Logan's shoulder, who had bent down to steady her. "Please, rethink your judgment on this poor man. He has been true and doesn't deserve this end." Jean's voice had become a whisper to the old woman's ears, yet it had been heard loud and clear.

Minutes passed, and it seemed like an eternity that the old woman stood in mid-air as straight and still as could be. Another moment passed, and then the old woman sank back down to the floor. Her aged looks had melted away, revealing a young woman in her 30s. Turning back around, she faced the Queen with a cold and angered stare. Her swift movements had let her fly over to the Queen's chair in a blink.

"What are you doing? I have done nothing. The Prince is your prisoner, not me!" The Queen gasped as her body became bound in a glowing bright blue cord.

Rheyne had turned around to see what was going on behind him. Illyria had sunk to her knees in front of the Fate and had begun pleading for her life. His chains had unlocked themselves and fell to the floor with a dull thud on the dense stone.

"Wait! Lady Fate, she is the mother of my heir. I do not resent her for what she has put me through but, she has turned my whole kingdom against me. These outsiders have been my saviours in waiting. Punish her guards and followers justly. But I beg you, do not be so harsh to my wife and child. Have mercy on them." Rheyne's voice that had tried to force back the trembles, had seemed to be small, for his own ears to hear. Yet, everyone had managed to hear his words.

The Fate stopped and focused on Rheyne, who was now on his hands and knees. His head had bent to stare at the stone floor and his eyes kept shut to hold his tears at bay. He shuttered as a loud thunderclap rolled overtop of them. The Fate, Illyria, the X-Men and the large crowd of the people down in the middle of the kingdom had stared at Rheyne in shock.

"Is this true, my little Prince? Your bride has taken over your very kingdom and cast you down as a traitor. You have endured too much weight on your shoulders, and yet you have done nothing to stop her from shaming you or your people. Now, you ask for her forgiveness? The images I have seen, and these outsiders that came to your aid, yet you love your captor? Why?" The Fate knelt down and lifted his chin up, gently. She softly smiled to him and wiped his tears away with her fingertips.

Rheyne nodded.

********

to be continued...