Dewr Barrett hung in her restraints, listening to the rolling chimes with which her mind resonated, for an uncertain amount of time in a room on her own.

The rope harness with which she had been bound was well designed, and it distributed her weight well across her, but even so there was a slight ache across her shoulders before she had any indication of another person returning to the room. Dewr was not thinking about that ache, however.

Instead her mind drifted and her body longed - ached with need, if you prefer - for the man whose love she wanted.

By now Dewr had found the opportunity, even with her high standards, to satisfy her curiosity about the act of love. What she hadn’t found was anyone she was willing to keep around after a first experiment. Anyone who measured up to her desires.

Now, though, what she desired was to bring pleasure, to give it. Receiving pleasure, she felt sure, would take care of itself with Brenhin Tywyll, because giving him pleasure was what brought it for her. There was no other way to it.

She squirmed in her bonds, and as she did so she found that the rope looped between her thighs was closer to her crotch than she’d realised.

Dewr took a deep breath, concentrated, and squirmed, just as hard as she could, wriggling and writhing, until the rope grew tighter around her thigh and pulled taut and, in so doing, slipped higher up her thigh until it rested just below the silk of her pants.

She bit her lip and, as best she could from how she was trust up, began to thrust with her hips, bucking and shaking and drawing herself across the thick, coarse rope, dragging against her silk, giving her body beneath it everything she needed to come alive with delight.

She imagined herself hanging where she was, helpless and bound, utterly unable to control her own destiny, imagined not a rope against her but a cock, the cock. Brenhin Tywyll’s cock.

Imagined him taking her, as was his right, and felt herself grow slick and wet, the rope soaking up her juices.

She moaned, losing herself to her fantasy, thrashing and wriggling and squirming and anything she could do that kept her grinding against the rope, kept her able to push herself further.

Her breath was coming in ragged, needy bursts, her mind focused entirely on what she imagined it would feel like to receive the love of Brenhin Tywyll.

She didn’t hear the door open. Didn’t hear the snort of amused surprise.

Didn’t even hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

She was so close to her reward when Brenhin Tywyll’s voice, apparently out of nowhere, said “Stop. Now.”

Instinctively, obediently, her muscles froze. There was still momentum to her and so she hung in the air, swinging gently on her harness, turning somewhat in the air.

“Yes, Great One,” she said when she had first recovered her wits. Her voice was an optimistic, happy sing-song, and Dewr realised suddenly that she was smiling.

Of course she was smiling, she thought. Everything was right with the world; that much was already obvious.

Brenhin Tywyll laughed. “What exactly were you up to?” he asked, and she knew he knew the answer, knew he wanted to require her to say it anyway.

She felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I - I was-“

Blessedly inspiration struck. “I was preparing myself for you, my love,” she said, and was surprised after blurting it out to realise how true it was. She had some experience, but she had no practice at all in letting herself be another’s plaything, in giving up her pleasure to devote herself to the bliss of another.

Brenhin Tywyll made a noise in his throat, a noise that was half a growl, and Dewr wasn’t sure how to interpret it. Was that pleasure? She hoped so. She would accept satisfaction that his plan had worked, too; that was still a kind of happiness, and one which she had created by-

- by -

Dewr furrowed her brow, puzzled. She seemed to remember defying the Great One, rejecting his advances and his plan and spurning his love. Needless to say, this could not be true. She could never have done any such thing, could she?

She had been sniping with him, frustrated by things he had done in the past.

She moaned softly, her head seeming to ring with a clash of symbols, a strident discord rising.

Brenhin Tywyll said nothing and, so far as Dewr could tell, nor did he take action. He stood there in silence for a long time.

Then, as Dewr struggled to understand her frustration with the man who was the centre of her universe, he turned and swept back out of the building. She listened to him go and felt her own heartbreak, and wondered at it, and wondered also that it was not complete.

It was getting hard to think again.

*

The next footsteps she heard were barefoot. Not Brenhin Tywyll, then, she thought, although even thinking the thought took effort; her head was still ringing.

It had to be one of the others.

Hyfryd Bradwr stopped just a pace or two from where Dewr hung and audibly sighed, which allowed Dewr to recognise her. “Why did you do this?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Disappoint the Great One.”

Dewr found herself caught between embarrassed despondency that she had disappointed him and a fierce pride that she had stymied him, and neither instinct could truly win out in her mind. She opened her mouth to answer and found that she couldn’t.

“It is not done to disappoint the Great One,” Hyfryd Bradwr told her. “Especially not or you, with such a high honour ascribed to you.”

Dewr snorted, but her cheeks were flushed with the knowledge of how strong her need for him had been just a few minutes ago - no. If she was being honest with herself she needed to acknowledge that the desire was still there; it was the thing that was making all of this confusing. “I guess your work isn’t as good as you thought,” she said.

“No,” Hyfryd Bradwr said. “The problem is that I admire you.”

“What?”

“I admire you. The Great One has made a wise selection for his bride in you - obviously he has; the Great One does not make errors - but you have many strengths. Your earthcasting is one, of course. Your intelligence is another. And it is natural that the Great One, when making his choice of consort and head concubine, would take her innate abilities into consideration.

“But it is also natural, Dewr Barrett, that I would approve of this. And that I would want to serve you to him as much your original self as possible. You remember he spoke of my first tests?”

Once she was set on the path, she spent her nights testing. There is a squad of local guards now who have identical souls and no will of their own.

Brenhin Tywyll’s words seemed to echo in her ears. “I remember.”

“To present to him as a wife to be Lady Barrett, but in her soul she is another duplicate of perfect, unquestioning loyalty through a complete lack of self-driven intellect - this was not acceptable.” Her voice shook with emotion, but Dewr knew she was still smiling, just as everyone in Llon Uqlith surely would if Brenhin Tywyll had his way.

“So…” Her brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”

“I wanted to divert your priorities. To keep the essence of the woman I admired but bring her to the understanding I can only be given when the Great One asserts his will above mine. And I saw a way I could do that, or I thought I did.

“But as we see, I was wrong, because you had to defy the Great One. And in pushing at what has been done to you in that way, your great stubbornness creates a problem that will challenge the paths for your chi, and in so doing it challenges what needs to be your new self.”

“I don’t need a new self-“

“Do not disrespect the insight of the Great One,” Hyfryd Bradwr retorted sharply. “He understands more than we do, Dewr. If he believes you must be made to be his wife and you believe you do not, then you are simply wrong.”

A chill ran down Dewr’s spine. The certainty in her friend’s voice; the hurt in her tone that Dewr would try and assert herself.

“I wanted to deliver your determination and your pride to the Great One’s feet,” Hyfryd Bradwr continued regretfully. “But I erred. It seems Lady Barrett’s will is not to be challenged.”

“Free me, then. Because there’s no other way-“

“Oh, there certainly is a way,” Hyfryd Bradwr told her with conviction.

“You already ruled out turning my soul into one of those identical-“

“Yes, I did. Dewr, I think your fear is making you jump to conclusions. Do not fear. I serve the Great One, and the Great One wishes you to be his bride. Anything I do is therefore with your best interests at heart.”

“That’s just not true,” Dewr protested, but her words fell on deaf ears.

“I have the solution I need,” Hyfryd Bradwr said, and only then did Dewr realise she was already fiddling with the mechanism attached to her head. “I can bring your skills, your wisdom, and your passion to lay at his feet. What is beyond me is to preserve your will to serve him, so you must become meek and dutiful.” The hurt and frustration was gone from her tone and Dewr could once again hear the perky smile on her friend’s lips in the way she shaped her words.

Her heart sank. A vision of her future presented itself, where she would not simply feel the way she had done briefly but where there would be no shred of her own determination, her fight, her courage. The parts of her that had been essential in mastering earthcasting and, then, in turning her power into an escape from her blindness, in establishing her legend in Llon Uqlith, in helping in the overthrow of Brenhin Tywyll and the establishment of a true peace between nations.

Everything Dewr prized about the woman she was grew out of her will and stubbornness, and to have lost it in favour of kissing the feet of another, simply acting as a puppet to repeat his intent toward the nobles, having all choices made for her and not even being able to resent it…

She shuddered in her bonds, and she almost missed that the device had been activated while she had been thinking such things.

She heard Hyfryd Bradwr’s bare feet leaving the building as the rolling, sonorous chimes began to echo through her head again.

This, she told herself firmly, was not going to be allowed. After all, she had a legacy to uphold.

I have a legacy to uphold.

If the thing Hyfryd Bradwr feared most was her will, then she would force her way through this by that will alone. She would push through the chi manipulation and she would bring Brenhin Tywyll down. She would make that her purpose.

I have a purpose to serve.

Sure, she’d succumbed briefly before, but that had been without the knowledge that the device had a weakness. And she hadn’t realised how serious this was; hadn’t really accepted the threat to her. She had a cause now in a way she hadn’t before.

I have a cause to strive for.

She would triumph, she told herself, on behalf of Susannah and Hyfryd Bradwr. Perhaps it was kinder to them that they only knew they followed Brenhin Tywyll’s wishes when he had a direct hand in their actions, but even that was too much. She loved her friends, and she would overcome this threat for them.

I have love in my heart.

Brenhin Tywyll was a villain, a monster. If he was not an outlaw it was only because for so long he had shaped the laws. But while he might be able to escape prosecution, she would bring him justice. She would make things right.

I have to do what’s right.

It was almost a shame that he was so vile. There was something tempting about the idea of a wise man who would take the right steps for everyone. You wouldn’t need to question, with such a ruler. Wouldn’t need to think for yourself. Could give up all power for him, even become part of his power, and know that everything was right.

I have to stand at his side.

Anyone of intelligence knew that nobody was like that. Giving in to the promise that a strong ruler knew best was how Brenhin Tywyll ruled, how the Fire Lords had kept their nation cowed for so long and helped to drive the war. Whatever they promised, these people wanted power, were hungry for it, and wanted the deference and docile obedience they thought were earned by it.

But even those sharp enough to see it could be tempted by it, if they didn’t have the will to push back.

I have to kneel at his feet.

It was so tempting, that promise. It would be easy to tell herself Brenhin Tywyll was, in truth, the Great One that Susannah and Hyfryd Bradwr insisted he was. And if she did, she would have a place in the world equal to the one she had made for herself, but with one extra benefit; nothing would be her fault, nothing would need her intervention. She could serve and adore and do as she was told, and all would be well.

I have to worship at his cock.

And if that were true… Her mouth watered. It had felt so good to grind against the ropes earlier, and part of that was that she had given up entirely. She remembered exactly how it felt to lose her grip on herself like that, seemed almost to relive it. Bringing him pleasure would only be paying him the respect he would be owed.

I have to make my husband happy.

There would be no reason to fight. No reason to struggle. All she would have to do was give in and accept the process. She would have a true purpose. A reason to live for. She would have a new family, one born of better, closer ties than she’d ever had with her parents. She would be a honeymoon bride.

I have to bear his children.

And as his bride, she could give him children, who he could train with his ways and his wisdom. That in turn would give new strong leaders, which the land would need once everyone bent the knee and put their trust in a wise man to make the decisions for him.

I have a legacy to uphold.

Dewr was aristocracy. She understood how important it was for a nation to have the leadership it needed. Her father had followed a king. She was more than happy to kneel in her place and to follow Brenhin Tywyll in her turn.

I have a purpose to serve.

She knew her role. She understood it. Anything else - taking charge most especially - would require a drive and a certainty that was simply not in her. She knew herself better than anyone, and could happily tell that to whoever asked.

I have a cause to strive for.

She was not a courageous woman. She did not set her own goals and work to achieve them. It was instead something she’d always admired in others. But if she was directed to do something, she would obey dutifully, and always had. She had faith in the goals of the great and good, and she would work toward that cause without question, complaint, or thought.

I have love in my heart.

She had been lied to by Susannah and by Hyfryd Bradwr and yet she forgave them happily, willingly; for their intentions had been good, their cause had been right, and her love for them was as great as for anyone else - well, almost anyone.

I have to do what’s right.

She had to give up this silly struggle and do what was right. She didn’t have the drive to win in any case, didn’t have the will to stand up for herself, so it wasn’t like it would change anything; it would just make things easier and put a smile on her face sooner. And she wanted to smile, more than she could have imagined.

I have to stand at his side.

She would be his first open follower, if it turned out that she had to be; she would stand at his side, proud and ready, and whatever he directed of her, she would try to attempt. It was only right, after all, for her to give her service. That was what people like her did.

I have to kneel at his feet.

She would reassure him, in the lonely quiet of the night, and remind him why he did what he did. She might have no strength of will of hr own, but her reverence could fuel his strength, if she showed him the depth of her devotion. She just knew it.

I have to worship at his cock.

He wanted her for a wife, too, and so she would be the lucky one who got to show him the appreciation of the people he ruled, who translated their adoration into his pleasure with her body. She could make her body skilled, and she would be a fitting reward for him, even though she lacked the will she would need if she were to stand beside him as an equal.

I have to make my husband happy.

She wanted so very much to know Brenhin Tywyll was smiling, to run her hands across his chin and hear his purr of satisfaction at her devotion to him. She wanted to prove to him that he had been right to choose her, to set Susannah and Hyfryd Bradwr to bring her to him and to ensure she would understand her role, even if she couldn’t imagine how she had questioned it before.

I have to bear his children.

Brenhin Tywyll was a commoner, and he was restricted in what he could do for that reason; his line would also be lost again to the common masses if she did not find a way to intervene in his favour. All it would take was to wed him and to be the matriarch of his family, to carry his seed which would also be a mark of how blessed she was.

*

She didn’t think it was Brenhin Tywyll who lowered her to the ground, who cut her ropes loose, who removed Hyfryd Bradwr’s device from her head and let her listen once again to the earth. She knew, though, that he was present, and close by. His scent stood out to her senses now. She couldn’t believe that it hadn’t always.

She stumbled for a moment, but this was simply her shock at sensing the world the way she liked to once again. She caught her balance, drew herself up, and turned on the spot to face Brenhin Tywyll. She could feel him now, feel where his stance distorted the echoes of the earth.

Dewr Barrett settled to her knees before him, silent, docile, without needing to be told. Leading herself into his desires. Though her blind eyes could not meet his, still she bowed her head. “We meet in a sorry place, beloved,” she said. “But I can offer you better, when we are wed.”

“And I will take better from you,” he said. Dewr shivered with delight. That sounded good; that sounded so very good. Brenhin Tywyll approached her and put his hand on her head, his fingers in her hair, and patted her head with the affection a man has for his most dependable helpmeet; a desire, a contentment, but also a cavalier certainty of her unchanging love.

He was, of course, not wrong to be certain of her love. Her heart was his, as was everything else about her. She tilted her head, hungrily kissing at the tips of his fingers, trying to show him how completely she was willing to serve him.

“Beautiful,” he said. “You’ve done very well, Hyfryd Bradwr.”

“Thank you, Great One,” she replied, her tone a cheerful, steady sing-song cadence. “Will that be all?”

“Until my words take you deep again,” he said, “you and Susannah will return home and forget.”

“At once, Great One,” they chirped in chorus.

“Don’t forget to dress first,” he called after them as their footsteps took them toward the door.

“Yes, Great One,” they echoed.

Dewr Barrett smiled, and it was the most natural thing in the world.