Unwilling Captive (Clarice De Bivillie and Heracles Skadi)

[Libelle "Onyx" Ryoko - Council]

At the birth her name was Edith Anne Coastillon, she was born into the house of Coastillon, one of the most royal families to rule the lands now known as the United Kingdom. Shortly after birth, Edith began to show signs that she could wield great magic. This magic she carried scared her parents greatly as there seemed no way they could control it.

Her parents went looking for help but what they were met with was a Coven of Witches who had heard of Edith feeling she was the child that would fulfill a great prophecy. The witches took Edith that night and raised her as a member of their coven, thus she was named Clarice Lilith De Biville.

Clarice was trained in her magic from that day forth, she passed every task that was placed in front of her as if it was nothing. The older she got the stronger she got and soon she was the leader of the coven. With ups there comes downs though, the moment Clarice thought she could own the world she met a Sorcerer, a man skilled in magic that surpassed what the Witches could show her.

The Sorcerer went by the name Prospero, the moment he set eyes on Clarice he was obsessed with the power her body seems to hold. Clarice left her coven into the arms of this man who promised to show her the world of magic none like she ever known. For years she studied with him until the days she began to surpass his own skill causing Prospero to become jealous of Clarice.

Prospero was a very controlling man and the moment Clarice began to see that for herself, he locked her away binding her hands and gagging her to stop her from using her magic, while he found a way to keep her from using her magic. He created a set of bracelets that were laced with magic to keep her from using her own, ones she could not remove herself.

Placing them around her wrist they tighten and the x shape charm on them buried itself into her flesh. The moment the bracelets were placed on her wrist it was as if she became passive, she followed every word that Prospero gave. For years she was his slave until one of her old coven members came searching for her.

When Sapphire found her, Clarice was a shell of the woman she once knew. Ripping the bracelets away knowing they were a source of magic causing the x marks on her flesh to burn as her power was restored, but not without their side effects. Sapphire became ill for she was the one to remove the bracelets, but they were able to make their escape back to the coven.

Clarice watched Sapphire die slowly as black spread from her hands into her veins, Clarice tried every way to save her that she could think of but her efforts were fruitless. As they burned Sapphire’s lifeless body Clarice looked down to the x marks on her wrists, it was the first time she had to face the death of someone close to her. It struck fear into her as that could have been her.

Clarice stayed close to the witches but far enough away from them so they could not be tied to her. She worked on many things through her lifetime but her greatest achievement was a potion for immortality. She created the immortality potion for just herself for she feared death more than anything, but taking the potion caused her to see visions of the future….

Clarice woke up that day jumping from the nightmares that were hunting. She sat up, looking around the small cabin she made herself not from the coven she had once led. She moved standing up pushing her hair off her wet forehead, The nightmares were getting stronger trying to get her to understand what was going to happen. Clarice still wasn’t understanding her dreams though. 

Clarice walked towards the window when the smell of burning flesh caught her nose causing her stomach dropped she was sure it was Prospero coming for her once again. She stormed out of her home running through the thick trees the screams of her people filled her ears and she ran into the middle of the small town they had started seeing buildings burning her eyes turned orange as she called water to her beginning to put out the fires.

[Skaði]

The concept of pain was foreign to him as it registered differently than it did to others. Physical pain was not the same to him as it was for others for his skin, flesh, and bones did not cut, break, or ache in the same way it did with others. His pain and the way it manifested was emotional and those heavy, wild, pent up, and powerful emotions metaphorically changed through the decades to where he felt that pain like a deep-rooted burn that would never go out. He only felt real, physical pain when he was free and that came so far and few between nowadays that he always forgot what it felt like and that it was a constant thing for the world around him. His heart ached when she confirmed that she was, in fact, hurt by him and he could not even tell you why. Why did he care for her in a way he cared for nothing and no one else? The questions swarmed his mind but he pushed them aside because she would be leaving soon and he needed to separate himself from this infatuation with her; He would torture himself further if he did not. The castle's secret pathways all twisted and turned and most days he felt as though he were the only one who knew which led where from all the times he would hide here to avoid the world and the way it turned. 

The acrid cold's sharp kiss left my skin frostbitten as I struggled to light my humble fire but the unforgiving chill forced me to stop. Everything in this garden was old and decrepit and falling apart at the seams but the short burst of hard work was worth it in the end as it helped me clear my mind for just one second despite the constant wave of Clarise's emotions washing over me. Before long I had fixed the small wooden shelter enough to keep the chill out long enough to start a fire and filled it with smuggled items from the castle like a fur rug to cover the frost warp wooden floor and a blanket to cover myself as I roamed the garden before returning to that little makeshift hut. Her face was one thing I could never remember clearly but somehow, deep within I knew this statue of her was wrong. My mother was many things and this cold and lifeless slab of stone did not capture one inch of her. I knew that much and I resented it all the more as I gazed up towards it but I knew really what I resented most was myself. I turn and peel my gaze away to see who is here with me but I truly already knew and my heart clenched. I wanted to ask why she was here and prepare for a form of revenge: an unswift death by her hands but my words were quickly distracted by the soft sway of a flower nearby. The last one left alive in a village of death which surrounded it. In the next second, I caught her move and braced but a level of confusion and shock overtook me when I processed her actions. “Wait, Stop!”

Hera took one step back to fully see what she was doing and then reclaimed that step when he understood and remembered. In one smooth motion, he was on his knees with her “Please stop.” Whisking the large blanket off his shoulders and over them both. Turning the world into a place where only they two exist while trying not to scare her and too scared to touch her from fear of her rejection and being used to not understanding his strength. His hands visibly hesitated towards her before he recoiled completely but he could not stand to see how quickly the cold was winning and he knew what this secret she was attempting to unveil was. Each of his begs and pleads grew more desperate until he could not take any longer and wrapped his larger warmer hands around hers and pressed them to his chest. Hoping the little warmth he had gained from the work, fire, and blanket would now benefit her. 

“IT IS MY SISTER'S EYES!!!!” I regretfully admitted with my gaze to the ground. “The curse breaker is killing her and taking her eyes.” I abhorred that look of fear, pain, and caution Clarise seemed to hold in her gaze while looking at me. “What you are trying to remove is a protective ward. I know because my mother had me put it there.” I huffed in frustration because my intrusive thoughts were screaming to scoop her up and bring her to the hut where the fire still burned but I was sure she would despise that as much as I abhorred that look in her eyes. “My father never comes here so the ground being freshly dug was never something we had to worry about. It keeps the curse trapped here. If you remove you set my father and I free in a world where no one who is susceptible to us and this curse would be safe.” I let her hands slip from my grasp. “They are bifrost crystals.” I jumped back to my sister's eyes. “It is what gives her magic and life I ca… I can not take them.” my voice hitched and I rose leaving the blanket covering her and leaving the little solitary island I had created under the blanket with her. I wiped my face to hide any tears in my eyes and other feelings I desperately wanted to avoid as I found my way back to the fire. 

[Clarice De Biville - Council]

✧ Unwilling Captive ✧

Emotions were something Clarice had locked away a long time ago. Yet here she was, utterly thrown off balance by a man who only showed an aggressive claim over her, tossing her around without an ounce of thought. Perhaps a part of her wished to break the curse so she could know the true him. She had no vision of love in her life; the closest she got to that was when she was drunk on Fae wine and lost in Thistlemoon Forest long ago. But that was just Kyan's affection for himself and their survival due to their magical bond. Now, a part of her was desperate for a cure to see if he truly held real affection for her or if it was all a lie. It seemed that freeing him was the only way to see the true him.

As she plunged her hands into the frozen dirt to find the source of the buried magic, her focus was singular. She didn't want to lose what little time she had left, unshackled and magicless. Her concentration came at a cost, though, as his voice boomed with the howling wind, causing her to pause. Her fingers, already burning from the cold, hesitated.

She turned stiffly, like a toddler caught doing something they shouldn't. The cold wind no longer battered her back as he wrapped her in a blanket warmed by his flesh. She wanted to curl up in the warmth radiating from him, but instead, she pulled her fingers out of the dirt as his hand moved to take hers. She was visibly confused but didn’t pull her hand free, even though the warmth caused a different burn as her fingers started to regain feeling. She opened her mouth to ask what was buried in the garden, following the fragments. But now he was stopping her. How could this be?

The revelations from his lips were not what she expected.

“Oh…” she uttered somberly. Suggesting he did this wasn’t what she wanted. She liked his sister and the little interactions they had. So there was no way to free him then. Her gaze fell to the dirt once again. Magic kept the curse in some sort of bubble. Her eyes never filled with fear, pain, or caution. Instead, they calculated and processed what she could do to help. As he let go of her hand, it fell to her side, the fingers dusted with dirt. The blanket, larger than her, fell over her head. Lost in questions and realizations, she wondered if she would ever be able to break his curse as she had promised moments ago.

She pushed herself to her feet, her shins screaming from stiffness. Finally, she found her way out of the blanket, looking around until the flicker of the fire caught her eye. She moved closer, falling to the ground beside the fire. Raising her hand, she sealed the hut, trapping the cold wind out so she could give him back his blanket. She wasn’t sure if he wanted her here in this makeshift hut. She would leave if it seemed to be the case after she spoke her mind.

“Of course, you can’t kill your sister. I don't have siblings, but I can confidently say I couldn’t do that to someone who doesn’t deserve it." She kept her gaze on the dancing flames, taking a breath, her shoulders feeling heavy. She had so many questions and was unsure how many she could ask. “Have you known if there is more than one way to break a curse?” She started to let them flow. “Your mother was a magic user? She was able to bind the curse to this castle…does that mean the curse can be bound to objects? Can I bind your curse to a bracelet?”

This was a side of her rarely seen as her eyes started to glow with magic, her brain and magic folding together to let her ask rapid-fire questions. “Is this version of you the real one? Or is the rough and tough version the real you? Or are you really both but can’t choose which one you are? When you are in the rough, do you…Did you feel my pain and emotions truly? Did you…” She paused for a moment, looking at him, her eyes returning to their natural hue. “When we touched, when we kissed, did you feel those? Or is it just meaningless?”

Why was that question the one that hurt the most? Maybe because it brought her back to the darkness that made her fear for him and his family, that darkness being their father. Things had become so twisted between them. She was realizing how she wished it wasn’t so. But would she be strong enough to be with cursed him forever? Would he find a way to save himself and his family? Did he even have feelings for her, the real him? She looked back to the fire. Maybe his cursed soul only felt for her because they were equally messed up.

[Skaði]

A gentle hiss whistled from his lips as the burn from the cold slowly melted while the fire warmed his skin. He closed his eyes to take in the heat and willed himself to ignore her emotions swelling in him but he sensed when she drew near. Slightly annoyed she was not taking this opportunity to run but overall bewildered by that same fact. Skadi opened his eyes with a few blinks as his vision focused on her only to flinch when she raised her hand, his muscle remaining taught. She had the power at this moment so rather than feel safe in the warmth of the enclosure she created he was on edge. As if laying in wait for her kind facade to fade like the countless others before her who had eventually revealed their true colors. Suddenly the once hard man who threw her around at a whim was slightly blenched beneath her before her questions pierced his consciousness. All at once his muscles loosen to expose his very downtrodden deamour as he sadly sighed. “It is not bound to the castle, it is trapped here. Uhm… contained in this vicinity by several magical items surrounding the area.” He speaks with a glazed over look in his eyes as if recalling something he had not heard or spoken of in decades. 

“I have heard of others finding a different way to break their curse. So maybe…” I hated not speaking in absolutes but in truth, I did not know much about the ways to break my own curse. I knew very little of magic because I feared it, for it was the one thing that could hurt, the one thing that could kill me, even with the curse in full effect. “She is a Mystic able to bless Faye with magic.” I shrug as I know nothing more about the matter of magic. My gaze shoots to her in the next second as her emotions swell and it is the first time in years I am feeling a variety of heavy emotions all at once. My muscles at last relent and relax which allows me to gently reach past the fire between us and grasp her hand in mine. I focused and forced my touch to remain gentle given the fact that I had not been with her in the past. After a moment of holding her small cold hand in mine and letting it warm in my grasp I intertwine our fingers and look back up into her eyes. “Touching, kissing, being with you that night were the only things that were truly me and not the curse I just… could not control how my wants and emotions were expressed.” I kept my tone hushed and soft hoping not to scare her or piss her off. “And I felt everything you did and felt like shit being unable to to stop myself from hurting you. Even now I…” I stopped myself from continuing as I at last let her hand go and returned to my side of the fire. Letting myself get into my head and telling myself not to get so attached because she would leave once the curse regained control. Leaving all this vulnerability for naught. 

[Clarice De Biville - Council]

✧ Unwilling Captive ✧

Clarice stood before him, her heart racing as she reached out, fully aware that he was not the kind to flinch under her touch. Yet, she also recognized that he harbored deep-seated issues with magic users—issues that went beyond her mere presence. The temptation to use her own magic to break free and escape loomed large, but a part of her knew that such a choice would only lead to regret. She wanted to save him, even if the odds were stacked against her. In this fleeting moment of freedom, she had to seize the opportunity, hoping to avoid any physical repercussions from him.

As her questions tumbled out in a rush, she barely paused to allow him to respond. She was unsure of the state he was in—more unpredictable now than during his full cursed form. She expected him to address the magic that confined the monster within the castle, a magic so potent it was likely the reason their mother was no longer alive. Clarice pondered how exhausting it must have been for her to imbue each item with such power, perhaps even leading to her own magical sickness.

Her thoughts shifted when he mentioned others breaking their curses in unexpected ways. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest; if anyone could discover a new path to freedom, it was her. Perhaps helping him break his curse would illuminate her own reality, revealing what was genuine and what was mere illusion. Ideas swirled in her mind, each more daring than the last, as she concocted plans to save him and his family.

But when his hand found hers, all thoughts of the curse faded. The gentleness of his touch contrasted starkly with the turmoil surrounding them, creating a serene moment that felt almost sacred. She gazed into the fire, apprehensive about what might escape his lips. His quiet confession, though unspoken, conveyed a depth of feeling that brought her relief. Yet, as quickly as the moment of honesty arrived, he pulled away, a frown etching itself onto her features.

Rising from her spot near the exit, she moved behind him, her voice steady but pleading. “You know it’s easier for me to understand when you share your thoughts. Please, use this precious time.” Her fingers traced gently down his arm, intertwining with his hand, a silent invitation for him to open up. “Let me in. Prove to me that my instincts about you are right, rather than just insisting I should trust you blindly. In those moments when the curse loosens its grip, I can see a different you—a brighter version. But you must understand my perspective as well. You are not the first to capture me or to keep me against my will. My past is deeply traumatized, and though it may have led me to hate you at times, something in my gut has always whispered that there is more to you.”

She took a breath, her gaze unwavering, seeking a connection. “Communication hasn’t been your strength, and it isn’t mine either. But I want to listen, to help free you, even if it takes my entire life. This journey begins with you allowing me into those fleeting moments of clarity, where trust can blossom.”

Her earnest gaze remained fixed on his back, anticipating any sign of acknowledgment. “I care for you, even when it may not seem that way. I can only hope you feel the same. Emotions are complex, and our situation is fraught with complications.”

As she withdrew her hand, she stepped toward the fire, watching the flames dance and flicker. “I’m willing to put the shackle back on and forsake my magic if you agree to let me help find a way to save you and your siblings from this curse. If we search for a year and find no solution, then I will wish for my freedom.” Her offer hung in the air, a fragile bridge between their fates.

Clarice’s heart ached with the knowledge that many would have fled from a man who had abused and kidnapped them, but she could only see someone struggling to hold on. She refused to let him fall, driven by a deep-seated conviction she could hardly articulate. Now, she waited, hoping for a sign of agreement, believing they could forge a new path together—one sealed by magic and trust before she was lost to him once more.