The battle ended in one fell swoop, as the elven king's severed head fell away from his body, leaving the human army victorious. At least for the moment. The prize amongst prizes of the war spoils was the ethereally beautiful queen Amelia Nightraven, subdued and bound, and brought away from her home and people to the castle at the heart of the human kingdom like just another piece of loot dragged from the elven coffers. Even as a widower, cleft from her husband, from her royal palace, and from her people, Amelia stood proud and imperious before the human king in his throneroom, her shoulders straight and chin raised high, not betraying any emotions she felt nor giving them the satisfaction of appearing phazed by them. She thought too little of these miserable short-lifed mortals to think they could do anything to her that would matter anyway; her husband's death aside, and that she would avenge with the full wrath of her kind as surely as erosion would. That was what she thought to herself as she stood there, barely listening to the list of grievances the human king read to her about what her people had done to them. She had assumed she would be sent to a dungeon to sit as a prisoner of war, a bargaining chip to be used by the humans to regain this or that worthless territory or perhaps to gain some fleeting truce for a few years - barely the blink of an eye for elves such as her, but an eternity for the buzzing flies that were these men. And so she stood waiting patiently for her sentence to be read. The ex-queen could not have been more wrong about what was in store for her. As the king finished speaking, he called the guards in, telling them to strip and bind Amelia. Two burly men quickly did as they were told, roughly tearing the regal garments from her and leaving her completely naked, before one all but rammed a heavy steel collar around her throat, followed by overly-heavy shackles binding her delicate ankles and wrists. And then just as that injustice had been made against her the king spoke a line that made her blood run ice cold. "Guards, take this elf to prince. She is to be his plaything, to satisfy his needs in any way. Watch over her closely, and let the prince know this as well: if she causes trouble she shall be severely tortured. Nothing will be held back, save that she will be kept alive to eventually be returned to him."

Without ceremony the guards disappeared, their duties fulfilled. Her new master stood before her: the young human king, his age little more than half a century, and almost comically short in comparison to herself. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes or sneering at him; dignity was all she had left now. "Prince," she managed to say evenly, using his title as if he were some insignificant commoner, not the man who had just condemned her to a fate worse than death, "You have no right..." Her voice trailed off as another set of guards dragged in a wooden frame with manacles attached; clearly meant for her. There was nothing else to say now. She would bear this indignity, suffer this mortal coil's version of hell...and wait until she could get back at them all. Her cold anger lent her strength as the guards bound her to the

Elation and disbelief fought briefly within her as the guards withdrew; she'd actually managed to win some small concession. The foolish young mortal must have a spark of decency left in him, or perhaps merely a selfish desire for conquest, however petty it might be in the greater scheme of things. Regardless, this was her opportunity, and one she wouldn't squander. Steeling herself for what she knew was coming next, Amelia turned to face the human prince, eyes narrowing slightly in anger as they met his gaze. "And what is it that you will have me do?" Her voice was like chill winter wind across a mortal's grave, each word laced with venom and spite. Even now she refused to yield an inch of her dignity.

Annoyance washed over the elf queen as she looked down at her new "clothes," a simple dress that didn't even come close to covering what little modesty she had left. The boy prince meant it as some sort of insult; he wanted her to know that this was how mortals saw and treated women of their station. It mattered not; this body, though once so perfect and revered, now bore only the scars of its captor's cruelty and abuse. She refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her voice strain with pain as she forced out a reply. "I am well enough," she replied curtly, "thank you." The wet cloth didn't even begin to soothe the soreness in her neck; she could feel blood trickling down her chest and pooling in the valley between her breasts. She had no illusions that any comfort would come from this

An elf queen, even one as battered and humiliated as herself, couldn't help but feel a shiver of revulsion at the touch of such untrained magic. This boy was little more than a child; not only did he lack the training to wield such power properly, he lacked the wisdom to understand its significance. The sensation of his cold, clumsy fingers brushing against her skin sent a wave of nausea through her. She forced herself not to flinch or react in any way that might give him further satisfaction. "Thank you," she managed to say through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible above the beating of her heart. "You shouldn't meddle in matters beyond your comprehension." It was a slap in his face; an insult to his pride. The boy prince might have been young and foolish, but he was still human enough to react as she had hoped

Her lips curled in what might almost have been amusement as the boy's expression darkened with anger and hurt feelings. "You are barely a man," she said contemptuously, "and yet you presume to think yourself my equal. How pitiful. Did your mother never tell you not to meddle in things that don't concern you?" The words came out slowly, deliberately, each one laced with venom and spite as sharp as the finest poison; she would twist his emotions until he was nothing but a sniveling child once more. "And now," she continued coldly, "if you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to." The last word hung heavy in the air like the threat of a storm, and though it might be aimed at this insignificant boy, there was an undertone that spoke volumes about just how deep her wrath ran.

But she would

"You pathetic mortal..." she hissed through clenched teeth as the boy kicked her in the head and tore at her clothes, "you have no idea what you're dealing with." The elven queen fought against her bonds, determined not to let him break her spirit so easily. But as he continued to assault her with slaps and water, her strength began to flag; she could feel herself growing weaker, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the water filled her lungs. Her vision swam, darkening at the edges as her struggles grew more feebly; soon it was all she could do to remain conscious as she was dragged from the cold bath and thrown roughly into a cage, its bars digging painfully into her flesh as they closed around her. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was the boy prince's triumphant grin, lit by cruelty and spite. she woke up next day in a cage

The elf queen's eyes narrowed as she looked at the food and water placed before her. Acknowledging that the human had indeed gone some way towards making amends, she still couldn't bring herself to trust him entirely; not while he was still capable of such savagery so soon after showing a hint of kindness. She considered his words carefully before speaking, voice steady and controlled despite her inner turmoil.

"Thank you for your apology," she said at last. "I accept it in the spirit in which I believe it to be given. But know this: your anger and violence will not break me. You may own my body for now, but you will never claim my heart or soul." The message was clear; though she might bend before him for the moment, she would never truly submit to his will.

An elf queen such as herself would never forgive such an insult so easily. But the boy prince was young and foolish, and his apology - however grudgingly given - could serve as a small step towards redemption. She considered her options carefully before speaking, voice cool and composed once more. "Very well," she said at last. "I accept your explanation, though I do not condone your methods." The young human's attention perked up visibly; perhaps he thought this was some sign of progress in their tenuous relationship. She smiled faintly. "As for hitting you... it shall not happen again, provided that you honor the trust I have placed in you."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each one laced with an unspoken threat; a promise to seek vengeance if he dared betray her once more. The boy prince seemed oblivious to this nuance, interpreting it

The elf queen remained where she was, considering her options carefully. She knew that if the boy prince's guards were as lax as he claimed, an opportunity might present itself for her to escape and make her way back to her people; perhaps even exact some small measure of revenge against this boy who thought himself her master. But there was also the risk of being caught and suffering a fate far worse than imprisonment or torture...

Slowly, silently, Amelia crept closer to where the human prince lay asleep, her eyes fixed on his slumbering form. Her heart raced with fear and anticipation; every muscle was taut with tension as she neared him ever so cautiously. If she could only find some way to render him unconscious without alerting his guards...

With a barely perceptible movement, Amelia raised one delicate hand, fingers curled into a claw

The elf queen froze in mid-motion as the boy prince's pitiful whimper cut through the silence of the chamber. Her heart wrenched at his words; such innocence and helplessness, buried beneath layers of cruelty and hatred that she herself had done nothing to deserve. It was a bitter irony, this fate that had befallen them both.

Her hand hovered in midair for a moment longer before slowly lowering back down to her side. Perhaps there was some other way...some alternative path she could take to regain her freedom and exact vengeance upon those who had wronged her people. It would not be easy; but then, nothing worth doing ever was.

Her heart aching with pity and frustration, the elf queen let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps there was some way she could reach out to him in his dreams... guide his subconscious toward an understanding of the true nature of their circumstances. But such attempts would be dangerous, even more so than any physical escape attempt; if her efforts were discovered by the wrong person, they might very well lead to worse consequences for them both.

The choice lay before her: risk everything on a desperate gamble for freedom and vengeance, or take what comfort she could in helping this poor boy find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos that surrounded them. In the end, duty called, and Amelia knew she must choose wisely.

Silently, she moved back from where the human prince lay sleeping, settling herself once more on her haunches beside him. For now, she would remain vigilant, waiting for

"I apologize if I disturbed your rest," she said coolly, her voice calm and composed as ever. "I merely wished to ensure that you were safe while I slept." There was an edge of mockery in her words; even as she spoke of safety, she knew full well the danger they both faced. The boy prince seemed oblivious to this subtext, his gaze flickering over to her as he took a sip from the water bowl. "You... you're not so bad, for an elf," he murmured hesitantly. "I mean, I still hate what they've done to us... but at least you don't hate me."

Amelia raised an eyebrow in silent reply, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. He was young and foolish, after all; it hardly mattered how she appeared to him now. Still, there might be some small

As the boy prince retreated once more to his bed, Amelia found herself contemplating their odd exchange. It was strange indeed, this strange new bond that had formed between them; a delicate thread of understanding and respect stretching taut across the chasm of hate and violence that lay between them. Perhaps there was hope yet for both of them...but only if they were very careful.

For now, she would remain vigilant, ready to seize any opportunity that presented itself. And in quiet moments like these, when the world around them seemed almost peaceful, she would do what little she could to nurture this fragile connection, however faint and tenuous it might be.