Ensnared

Madeline’s first impression of Phrike.  

The first time Madeline saw Phrike, she wondered where in the world such a specimen had come from. There was something ethereal about her beauty. Poised with a warrior’s confidence, Phrike was a marvel in one of the most unlikely battles aboard her vessel to date. 

Half of Madeline’s crew were degenerates enticed to come aboard by the prospect of plundering treasure for the glory. She spent half her time reeducating interlopers, when she wasn’t charting the ship’s course in her chambers. 

Even the worst of the bunch knew better than to behave inappropriately with their Captain. Being aboard this ship was a privilege they dared not abuse. Madeline’s employment depended on her reputation as an adventurer being above board.

For that reason, having this particular Wyld One as a passenger aboard her ship had been a revelation. Even when the rest of her party inadvertently caused her pride and joy to crash. Madeline admired Phrike for sticking by her friends, and helping alongside them to repair the ship. It was a rare thing in her trade, finding people willing to hold themselves accountable for their actions. 

Eventually it was a bittersweet parting of the ways for no one but Madeline. For she was certain that Phrike had not felt the same initial spark of attraction. 

~*~

At the Tournament in Zundinarg.  

Madeline entered the stands after saying a quick hello to Thrashem before the competition began. The arena had filled up fast; the only seats left were the ones closest to the action. It was the easiest choice. The entirety of the competition area was visible from her vantage point. 

There were banners of different sponsors from across Rhódania hanging on the arena’s walls. Subfey, which was to be expected. Some sort of apothecary with an unpronounceable name. And, one of the last banners…The Wyld Ones Present: Wyld Bru, Official Sponsor of Conall Macginnisi. There were a few letters painted over, covering up a spelling error or two. Though some added paint embellishments hid the errors well enough. 

While she scanned the area for any sign of them, sure enough…Conall entered the arena first. He wore a bright red sweatband, which Madeline had to imagine was superfluous. Was it possible for beings made of rock to sweat? Perhaps it had been a gift from his compatriots. As she watched, Rhys and Feronia emerged from a nearby entryway first. 

Madeline watched, but saw no sign of Mr. Crandall. Curious. 

A halfling fellow followed after Conall, whom she didn’t recognize. The pair started talking back and forth, the tenor of their body language suggesting an argument. 

Madeline looked around, wondering where they’d stashed her for the event. Still, she needn’t have worried. 

They clearly saved the best for last. 

Phrike entered the arena. She wore a dark purple sweatband, perhaps to keep her hair out of the way. It was a new accessory, but one that added a pop of color to her clothes. 

She looked good. Just as good as she had weeks ago. It was almost difficult to believe. As other competitors entered the arena, it wasn’t difficult to make the leap. Each of them wore sweatbands in different colors, in order for their sponsors to be able to identify their respective champions. 

But who sponsored Phrike? Mysterious. She looked around, but her friends were clearly there to support Conall. In fact, she could recognize when someone was putting on a brave face. Phrike’s features were carefully schooled into a neutral mask. As Madeline watched, Feronia broke away from their pack and sidled up to her friend’s side. 

Perhaps they’d grown much closer in her time away. It was rather sweet, from this distance. 

“Bets! Taking all bets! Which champion is going to take home the gold?” A crier passing by drew her attention away from the arena. 

Thinking for a moment, Madeline smiled. Standing from her seat, she caught up to the crier responsible for the shout. 

“Excuse me,” She inquired, “Who do I talk to about sponsoring a champion?” 

~*~

Phrike

“You’ve got this, big man! Let ‘em watch; you’re gonna take that gold!” Feronia encouraged Conall, though she spared a glance at Phrike. 

She tried to reassure her friend with a smile. Honestly, it hadn’t been Phrike’s intention to compete. This was a tournament being held in honor of Thrashem, after all. One of Conall’s personal heroes. Why should she be an obstacle to Conall’s victory? 

This was still an opportunity for Phrike to spar outside of training sessions with Conall. Not that she minded those very much. Though as of late it was difficult for her to conceal her emotions afterwards. 

Phrike’s thoughts were often a  jumbled mess. Yet another reason she resented her parents for not being around to teach her how to process her emotions. 

Sorting out her feelings for Conall was high on her list of priorities. Right now there were simply not enough hours in the day for her to compartmentalize. Despite the one-word response from Eamon, it had been too long since they last saw each other. 

The rest of their travels had been about making sure they survived. Being faced with the possibility of losing Rhys for a second time, Phrike had remained vigilant for potential danger ever since. Often volunteering to take the first watch in the evenings, especially if it meant her friends could get some rest. This had an added bonus of making sure she slept less, in order to avoid any more nightmares and possible visits with her father. 

While it had occurred to Phrike that covering up her scar might help, it did not respond to healing magic, nor did she possess any magical ability to conceal it from sight. 

The triumphant sound of horns playing made her jump. Phrike shook herself, turning to follow Conall out to the middle of the arena. He carried his weapons, spinning his hammer in one hand. Because Phrike had entered at the last minute without a sponsor, she was set to compete in a different part of the competition than Conall. 

“Miss Phrike?” A competition attendant darted out from a different entrance. She froze, confusion visible on her face. “Report to the tent with Mr. Macginnisi, please.” 

“But I’m not sponsored.” Phrike frowned. 

“Last minute change. You’ve got a sponsor who wishes to remain anonymous.” 

She paused. “How much is it to sponsor a champion?” Rhys had taken care of Conall’s sponsorship fee, much to the protestations of Feronia. 

“One hundred and twenty five gold.” The elf attendant looked at her expectantly. “If you want to be on time, you’d best come with me now.”

Still, Phrike hesitated. She earnestly did not want to stand in the way. This was Conall’s fight, as it had been since the beginning. Seeming to decide something at the last second, she nodded and followed after the attendant. 

Inside the champion’s tent, Conall turned from where he spoke with Thrashem. Her heart gave a foolish little flutter, despite herself. “Phrike? What’s going on?” Conall had looked up from their conversation. 

“I think someone sponsored me.” She passed by rows of weapons that champions were selecting. “Does this mean I can use my weapons now?” 

“Yes, I believe so. How fortunate!” Thrashem spoke, looking between the pair of them. “This competition just got a lot more interesting.” 

Conall chuckled, though he avoided Phrike’s eyes. 

When Thrashem left to refill his drink, she gently touched Conall’s arm. “I wasn’t expecting this, at all. I can bow out, or throw the fight-” Phrike started to suggest, to which Conall immediately shook his head. 

“No, never! It’ll be fine. We’ve done a lot of training together already. Now we put it to the test.” Conall smiled. Another flutter of her heart, damn that impressionable organ. 

“Okay.” Perhaps it was better to picture this as another friendly bout with Conall, rather than some stranger. It might be just like training aboard the Discourteous Rose, or in the forests. 

Except now an entire arena of people gets to see you mooning over him like a lovestruck fool.

Phrike swallowed, ignoring her intrusive thoughts. The Master of Ceremonies clapped his hands from the entrance of the tent. “Come on, I think we’re about to start. Don’t forget your weapons!” Conall stage whispered.

Phrike’s weapons were returned to her, which was a small comfort. “Got ‘em!” She replied, though her voice lacked confidence. 

The champions were directed to stand in line, as they would enter the arena one by one. The crowd roared, as horns played some grand melody that signified the tournament would be starting soon. 

 Phrike lined up behind Conall, though soon the elf attendant returned. “For you. A gift from your sponsor.” An envelope was pressed into her hand. It had a vibrant pink seal, forming the outline of a skull and crossbones. She carefully opened the envelope without breaking the seal, unfolding the letter. 

Phrike,

Show Mr. Macginnisi what you’ve learned during your training. 

Find me in the victor’s garden this evening, after 10 o’clock.

Captain Crowley.

The signature made her blush. Madeline? In all the chaos surrounding their arrival at the tournament, she had nearly forgotten they might run into each other again. Phrike felt her face heat, realizing this would be the first time seeing her since Madeline had starred in her private fantasy. 

In the same instant, Phrike experienced a combination of excitement and fear. Would it disappoint Madeline if she lost? Would it hurt Conall’s feelings if she won, in front of his hero?

The line began moving. Phrike swore underneath her breath.

No turning back now.

~*~

After the fight

In the end, it had nearly been too close to call. 

All of the champions had formed a circle in the arena, waiting until the cue to start fighting. The rules were simple. Do not aim to kill, but rather to stun. It hadn’t taken long for a champion to try to break that rule.

Phrike had struck down the bugbear that tried to take her down. She assisted Conall before a human could get the drop on him. 

It hadn’t surprised Phrike that the fight had come down to her and Conall. They’d fought in a way that had the audience murmuring toward the end. Still, after a split lip, a few bruised ribs, and an axe wound on her thigh, Phrike had conceded when Conall held his sword to her throat. 

“Great job, Phrike!” He’d excitedly spoken under the roar of the crowd.

“ You did great.” Phrike assured him, clapping along with the crowd. She wasn’t sure if he’d heard the sentiment before Thrashem and his retinue entered the arena, to award Conall his medal.

She started to step sway, but was ushered forward only to have a silver medal dropped around her neck. It was rather heavy, but she smiled as she held Conall’s hand. Together they bowed, to the roar of the audience. 

Turned out, second place wasn’t half bad.

~*~

The celebration lasted hours. Phrike had looked for Madeline before they were supposed to meet, but hadn’t found the Captain anywhere. By this point, she’d gotten rather tipsy, citing the need to go for a walk to sober up.

Phrike carried a waterskin, sipping from it occasionally. Tempting as it was, she had turned down the last round of Wyld Bru shots. 

The victor’s garden was self-contained, holding a great many plant species. Her fingers brushed the flower petals as she walked. It had been nearly 10 by the time she left the celebration, though Phrike hadn’t imagined where Madeline would be waiting.

She needn’t wonder for very long. Madeline had substituted her usual traveling clothes for a deep hunter green evening dress. She sat on the edge of a large fountain.

“Hello Phrike.” Madeline spoke before turning to face her, rising to her feet.

“Hello.” After visiting the healer’s tent she was somewhat sore, though she tried not to let it show as she sat next to the Captain. 

“It must have been a long day.” Madeline observed, “Healers fix you up after? I know a bruised rib when I see one.” 

Phrike huffed a laugh, holding her hand over the rib in question, trying not to strain herself. “Yes. Conall really put me through my paces.” 

“Give yourself more credit than that. You held your own.” Madeline’s eyes lingered over her body. “You always hold your own, don’t you?” A smirk played at her full lips. 

Phrike inhaled sharply. Had she lost awareness of her surroundings, and stepped into another dream? Surely, she had to be imagining that look in Madeline’s eyes. 

“Yes. Well, I…I try to, anyway.” Phrike’s expression clouded with something like regret. 

“Haven’t you been listening? You’re a warrior , Phrike.” She was taken aback by the certainty in Madeline’s voice. “Skills like yours can’t be taught. You’re blessed, with a natural grace many fighters in that arena would kill to possess.” 

As Madeline uttered the word ‘blessed’ Phrike noticed her eyes dart elsewhere for a moment, before she continued. 

“Say it for me. Say, ‘I am a warrior.’” Madeline encouraged, the tone of her voice softening. Phrike shivered, and it wasn’t from the evening breeze. Something about the way Madeline spoke brokered no arguments. Finding herself unable to look away from the other woman’s luminous green eyes, Phrike nodded. “I am a warrior.” 

The torches lighting the path through the victor’s garden did no justice to the way the Captain’s eyes sparkled. “There you are.” The praise left Phrike’s heart fluttering. “I’ll tell you this now, Phrike. Any time anyone makes you doubt yourself, you show them what for.” 

Phrike nodded, smiling in earnest now. “I will.” Madeline raised her cup, silently toasting to her proclamation. 

Silence stretched between them for a moment. It occurred to Phrike that she’d never questioned why the Captain had wanted to meet her here. Opening her mouth to do just that, she was surprised when Madeline held a finger to her lips. “Before you go on, Phrike, I just want to say one thing.”

Phrike blinked, her heart pounding in her chest as her breath caught in her throat. Though she nodded for the other woman to continue all the same. 

“Before, when we were on the Rose, I never had the chance to tell you.” For the first time, Madeline looked flustered. “I think you’re beautiful.” She dropped her hand, though it lingered on the fountain between them. 

Moving imperceptibly closer to Phrike’s hand. 

Phrike released a startled breath. “Thank you.” 

Madeline’s stare turned curious. “Are you nervous?” 

Something compelled her toward honesty. “Yes.” Phrike murmured. She’d done nothing to stop the progress of Madeline’s hand; in fact, she’d shifted hers closer. Their fingertips brushed, and it was both comforting and exhilarating. 

“Me too,” Madeline lifted her other hand, her fingers brushing along Phrike’s jaw. The touch was mindful, perhaps of unseen injuries, yet also exploratory. 

Phrike gasped as Madeline closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together. For a split second, she was frozen. Still wondering if this was really happening. 

Madeline held her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone. This simple yet intimate gesture seemed to encourage Phrike to respond in kind. She entwined their fingers together, parting her lips in an attempt to deepen their kiss. 

Madeline let out a noise unlike any she’d heard from the Captain before; low and soft, a pleasurable hum.

Their kiss seemed to last a lifetime, during the span of about sixty seconds. Before long their foreheads were pressed together, as each caught their breath. Madeline gently squeezed her hand, and after a moment Phrike repeated the gesture. 

“I had a dream about you.” It was the first thought that popped into Phrike’s head once her thoughts had cleared. Madeline let out a throaty chuckle. Phrike felt her face heat, somewhat embarrassed by her confession, until Madeline leaned back and met her eyes. 

“I’ve had many dreams about you, Phrike.” She was able to see twin spots of color on Madeline’s face for the first time. How was it possible for Madeline’s blush to look endearing, yet when she blushed she ended up looking like an aubergine?

“Really?” Phrike’s face burned. If they’d been anything like her dream…she couldn’t imagine what might happen next. 

“Such a sensation, when one’s imagination aligns with reality so precisely.” Madeline mused. Phrike nodded, unsure of how to respond. Distantly, she wondered if the Captain had come up with that particular sentiment herself. 

“Would you like to know what I dreamt about you?” Madeline reached for Phrike’s other hand, entwining their fingers in a similar fashion. Phrike nodded again, too curious now to refuse this explanation. 

The gleam in Madeline’s eyes reminded her of an animal in the forest, on the hunt for a fresh kill. While they were still holding hands, she stood and gently pulled Phrike to her feet. Though Madeline was an inch or two shorter than Phrike, the Shadar-kai was under no illusions about who held the power here. 

Madeline leaned in close, as though she might kiss Phrike again. When their lips were a whisper apart from each other, Madeline murmured, “On your knees, then.” 

Phrike’s mouth fell open in surprise, her eyes blinking rapidly. Madeline released her hands, only to sit on the edge of the fountain again. Her eyes never left Phrike’s, though her body language was taut with anticipation. 

Before rational thought escaped her completely, Phrike’s head darted to the left, and to the right. The fountain in the victor’s garden was at the center of a small shrubbery maze. She’d chosen this spot well. 

Had this her plan from the beginning? 

“Don’t worry, dear. We won’t be overheard.” Madeline sounded confident. Perhaps if she knew magic, she would have some way of concealing their movements. The two of them might have only met twice during their travels, but Madeline commanded an entire ship. Phrike’s instincts hadn’t always steered her in the right direction, but something told her to trust Madeline. 

With that thought firmly in mind, Phrike sank to her knees on the grass, in front Madeline. The heat in the Captain’s eyes burned bright. Madeline beckoned to Phrike, crooking two fingers in a gesture that had no right to look so indecent in this moment. Still, Phrike couldn’t help but shift closer. 

“There’s few sights in the world as precious as you are right now, Phrike.” Madeline murmured, her voice rough with wicked promise. “A few of my dreams started like this.” Phrike shivers as the Captain reaches out to curl her hair behind her ear. 

“They began with the two of us alone together. Of course, most of the time I pictured us back on the Rose. In my quarters.” Madeline added, with a smirk. 

“Have we been sharing dreams?” Phrike felt breathless. So far she hadn’t shared a dream with anyone but her friends, or her father.

“Possibly,” Madeline smirked, “How did you dream of me, darling?”

“The same way, I think,” Phrike’s face must be the color of nightshade by now, “In your quarters.” Madeline licked her lips, and Phrike’s eyes followed the movement as though she were incapable of looking anywhere else. When the Captain hummed, she shivered again. 

“Did we have fun together?” Madeline’s grin was positively feline. “Did you kneel for me there, as well?” 

“Not exactly,” Phrike bit her lower lip before she answered, “You used magic to restrain me.” 

Another delighted throaty chuckle, “Well, well! You’ve surprised me, Phrike. Seems we have more than a few things in common,” Madeline grinned, “And how did this dream of yours end?” 

It felt too scandalous to say out loud. But, they were alone…

“You kissed me,” Phrike admitted, “Between my thighs.” 

“Don’t be shy, darling. Don’t do your imagination that disservice. You fantasized about me devouring your honeyed cunt, didn’t you?” Madeline reached for her chin when Phrike started to duck her head, bringing her gaze back to the Captain’s. “Tell me the truth.” 

“Yes,” Phrike whimpered. “I dreamt about you ravaging me.” 

“Close enough,” Madeline growled, gripping her chin as she kissed Phrike again. Her tongue coaxed the other woman’s lips to part, until she whimpered. Madeline broke their kiss to put a finger to her lips again. “Shhh. We may be alone, but we’ve got to be quiet .” 

Phrike nodded. Some instinct she refused to name led her to lick Madeline’s finger. 

“Cheeky,” One word had never sounded so devious before. “Well, gorgeous. If that’s how you want to play, then I have a way of keeping that tongue of yours occupied.” 

Madeline parted her thighs, the fabric of her dress sliding up her hips, as she beckoned to Phrike once more. “May as well get comfortable. I rather like you on your knees.” 

It was immediately obvious that Madeline wasn’t wearing panties. 

“I want to. But…I’m afraid I don’t know what I’m doing.” Phrike stammered out, realizing she was breathless already. This moment solidified in her mind that this was no longer a dream; this was really happening.

“I’ll show you exactly how to please me, dear.” Madeline swept Phrike’s hair behind her ear again, the affectionate gesture increasingly comforting and yet arousing. “Kiss my thigh.” 

This was easy enough. The biggest takeaway from Phrike’s fantasy was how liberating it was to give herself to Madeline. Phrike leaned forward, her dark eyes blinking up at the Captain as her full lips met Madeline’s lush thigh. “Once more. Higher up, now.”

Flashes in her mind; memories of a moment that hadn’t really happened. Phrike left a trail of kisses up Madeline’s soft, sumptuous thigh. Moving to give the other leg the same brief attention. She felt Madeline’s fingers in her hair, messing up her braid as she leveraged a better grip.

“Look up at me.” Phrike’s mouth hovered above her center. Her eyes darted up to meet the Captain’s. Madeline was undone, eyes wild with passion. “I think you know what comes next.”

Phrike nodded. Leaning in, she kept her eyes on the other woman as she gave her clit a slow, longing kiss. Madeline gasped. “Oh, good girl. Didn’t even need my help.”

Phrike whimpered. Madeline was very wet, her taste unlike anything she’d had before. Distantly reminding her of the legends surrounding Fey wine and its addictive properties.

“Lick me clean.” Madeline rasped, voice edged on a purr. Phrike found the sound unspeakably erotic. Still poised on her knees, she gave herself over to her task.

Madeline seemed to enjoy fast flicks of her tongue, and her clit being sucked. Madeline told Phrike to use her fingers, and she was only too happy to comply. The more she tried to hide her pleasurable noises, the more Phrike wanted to hear them. 

Phrike’s heart pounded in her chest. At any moment, they could be discovered. The danger seemed to make everything that much more intense. Ignoring the ache in her jaw, Phrike lost herself to giving pleasure to perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever met.

“That’s the way. Dear girl, you are so very good at that. Such a natural.” The Captain’s praise had Phrike squirming. There was something addictive about Madeline in the throes of passion. 

“Don’t stop,” She panted. “I’m so close. Make me come, Phrike. There’s a good girl.” Phrike whimpered, tongue tirelessly moving, only for the rest of her body to freeze as she heard the distant sound of footsteps. This was followed by someone whistling a familiar tune. 

No…it couldn’t be.

“Phrike?” Conall shouted. “You out here?” 

Phrike’s eyes widened. Before she could react, Madeline gently stroked her cheek. “Stay quiet, dear.” Phrike looked down at herself, realizing she had turned invisible. Nearly dizzy with the realization that Madeline’s magical ability extended outside the realm of mere fantasy. 

Through some miracle, Phrike had disappeared from sight in two ways. By being turned invisible, and by Madeline pulling the length of her evening gown down to further conceal the shape of Phrike’s kneeling form.

In the midst of all this confusion, it never occurred to Phrike to withdraw her fingers from inside Madeline.

 Just as she wondered if this was a mistake, Phrike heard a message inside her mind. Madeline’s voice.

Don’t stop.

Gods above and below, but this had to be wrong on some level. Shivering, Phrike kissed and licked at Madeline as quietly as possible. Wondering if the Captain would hear the reply inside her mind.

Yes, Mommy.

Phrike felt Madeline’s thighs tremble, and took that as an answer. Resolved to see this through, Phrike delved in for a better taste of her soft, sweet cunt to try and distract herself from what was about to happen.

The footsteps grew louder. “Madeline? Have you seen Phrike?” Conall’s voice nearly shattered her concentration, startling her beneath Madeline’s dress. 

“Afraid I haven’t, Mr. Macginnisi. Have you been enjoying the celebration?” Madeline’s voice sounded remarkably even, given what was happening just out of sight. 

“Oh yeah.” Conall let out a chuckle. “Everyone else is off somewhere by now. Figured I’d check on where Phrike was.” He sounded somewhat tipsy, not unlike she’d been earlier.

“The gardens are lovely this time of night.” Madeline observed. “Perhaps she went for a walk.”

Conall didn’t respond. Phrike sucked Madeline’s clit again, the tip of her tongue moving rapidly over the bundle of nerves. Madeline gasped, but covered the sound with a hiccup. “So sorry. Too much champagne, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh, uh…don’t forget to hydrate!” Conall supplied, in what he must have thought was helpful advice.

“I shan’t, believe me. Hope the festivities are to your liking, young champion.” Phrike didn’t hear Conall’s response. She felt Madeline’s thighs tense, as she curled her fingers upwards in a gentle massage.

Dirty girl! You like this, don’t you? That lovely voice inside her mind again, sounding wrecked with pleasure.

Gods help me. I do. Something about this felt so utterly forbidden and yet so right at the same time. 

Loud pops above her startled Phrike so much she nearly yelped. Barely managing to suppress the sound, she reached out with her mind.

What was that??

Fireworks. More pops and crackles from above, and scattered sounds of applause. Conall had paused midway through his sentence, though Phrike had no way of knowing what had drawn his attention. 

Gods, would it be so terrible to be discovered like this? The thought had her pressing her thighs together.

“Look at that!” Madeline laughed, although she heard the rasp in the Captain’s voice. It was there, if you knew what to look for. Phrike redoubled her efforts over Madeline’s clit, until she felt the tender flesh throbbing beneath her tongue.

The sound of Conall applauding along with everyone else nearly startled her again. Would it be better to make her come now? Or wait until Conall left? Phrike let go of her worry, trusting that Madeline’s magic would hold. 

“Yeah, uh, you’re probably right. Sorry to bother you. I’ll see if I can find where Phrike went.” Conall replied distractedly. “Those are so cool! I can’t believe they spelled out my name!”

His happiness in the moment was touching. Phrike would have to recall this detail about the fireworks later.

“Take care, Mr. Macginnisi. Congratulations, again.” Madeline spoke, and Phrike heard the unmistakable sound of his eager footsteps retreating. 

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” Madeline murmured. “Go on, pet. You know what to do.”

The fireworks display drowned out Captain Crowley’s ensuing and ecstatic cry of pleasure. Though as her arousal reached its peak, a pair of sandals became visible beneath her dress.

Phrike weighed her options carefully, but kept the secret of this encounter closely guarded. 

Later that evening, back in Madeline’s room at the inn in Zundinarg, Phrike’s teeth tore through a pillow as her body trembled under the weight of a toe-curling orgasm. It had taken all of her willpower to stay silent, when all she wanted to was shout to the heavens, how good her Mommy was making her feel.

When Phrike asked why she’d returned the affection, sounding genuinely curious, Madeline had chuckled as she gently ran her fingers through Phrike’s unbraided hair.

“Because, dear girl. I was a pirate. And pirates owe a debt to no one.”