"Kneel," Whumper sneered at Whumpee. They had draped themself across Whumpee's throne.
The two knights dragged Whumpee forward. Whumpee's arms were bound behind their back, tightly, shoulders pulled painfully tight. Whumpee held their head high as they were dragged forward. Their crown was still high atop their head. They were still ruler of these lands.
Whumper and their band of minions had struck the castle in the dead of knight, taking everyone by surprise. There hadn't been time to launch a counter attack. There had only been time to get out as much of their court as they could. Whumpee, of course, had chosen to remain behind to buy as much time for the escaping court as they could.
Still, there were those that remained with them. And those few had been forced to gather in the throne room and watch as Whumper humiliated Whumpee.
Whumpee would not give Whumper the satisfaction of begging. It didn't matter if begging would save them. Their siblings had gotten out. The dynasty's line would live even if they died. They would not bow before Whumper. They would not break. They would not give in to the invaders.
"Whumper said kneel," one of Whumper's knights said as they kicked the back of Whumpee's knees.
Whumpee did not cry out as their knees hit the hard marble, though pain sang up their joints. They would not cry out. They would not beg. They looked off, ignoring the knights and Whumper. They would not engage.
Whumper jumped up and stalked towards Whumpee. "I'm going to enjoy flaying you alive, Whumpee. I'm going to enjoy dragging you through the streets so your subjects can see how far you can fall. And I'm going to enjoy leaving your body on display and letting the carrion pick your bones clean."
Whumpee did not say anything. They did not look at Whumper. They would not look at Whumper. They would not give in.
Without warning, Whumper kicked Whumpee in the face. Hard. Whumpee felt their nose crack and bleed. They listed sideways, the only thing keeping them up was the death grip on their shoulders by the two knights. Whumper kicked them again, this time catching Whumpee's mouth. Whumpee sputtered around the blood filling their mouth.
"You are going to be the most fun I have had in a long time, Whumpee. I am going to enjoy breaking you body, mind, and soul. And then I will have your crown."
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Author's notes: SUP! This is for a thought project with @percy-frayer I love Damien and Duulan and Kitsen. Kitsen was ready to try out being a King but he was not aware of how much work it was really going to be.
Challenges Masterlist - Voltober 7
Content: fae whumpee, fae whumper, human whumpee, wing whump, creepy whumper, suffocation, mentioned past slavery
@voltober
Royal Whumpee | Dungeon | Coup
Kitsen closed the door to his bedroom at the palace and sighed heavily. He just wanted to go home to his cliff side mansion, but he would need to stay in the palace for a full year before he could start wandering out an about again. The tradition for new royals to be trapped in the palace wasn’t just a silly whim followed ruler after ruler. They had to be here to protect their new position in the court for the full year. After Kitsen had killed the old queen, he wasn’t in the clear. The throne was technically up for grabs until someone had occupied it for a full year. Then the attempts on his life would be fully forbidden by the rules and magicks of the court.
Kitsen slipped out of his formal clothing, untying his sashes and pulling off his tabbard and jewels, finally putting on a simple robe and tying it around his waist, slipping his wings gently out of the opening in the back. He sighed softly, more comfortable now. He’d just spend a little bit of time with Duulan and Damien and then go straight to bed. He had a table full of correspondence on his table he needed to get through and he needed to read through the extensive laws and magicks of the fae courts and memorize it all to hold his place as king of the court, but he was just too tired now. He’d have to do all of that in the morning. He had been spending so much time getting to know the fae of the courts and reorganizing the structure of the court to something a bit healthier. On top of that, he’d been trying to pick out his consorts so the fighting would stop as fae jostled to be in his good graces. He just didn’t have much time for himself. Maybe he should just set aside some time over the next couple of days. Some quiet would be nice, even if it did mean parsing through the old rules of the throne.
Kitsen opened up a door that led to the connected rooms where his friends stayed. He was glad they had agreed to stay with him here in the court. He would have gone crazy if he couldn’t just go find them when he needed to vent about the inane nonsense he’d been forced to care about since becoming King. He was still glad to be King, it was what he always wanted and had worked toward, but he wished he had been able to prepare for it more. He’d done the best he could, but with so much of it locked behind the queen’s own doors, it had been impossible to really be prepared for the work he had to do.
In a year this would all be worth it. He would be fine in a year. He would have it all worked out and then it would just be a matter of maintaining it. He could do that.
He knocked gently on the closed door that led to Damien’s room. Damien should be in there, since it was closed. He waited a moment before frowning and knocking again.
“Damien?” he called gently. He winced as he realized Damien might be asleep. He took a step back, sharp disappointment in his throat as he walked down to Duulan’s room.
He didn’t have to knock with Duulan. He had at the beginning of their relationship, but it had been a long time since Duulan told him to stop doing that and just come in, even if he was changing or sleeping.
Kitsen opened the door, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Duulan? Are you awake? I-”
Someone slammed the door as he was most of the way through it, catching his wing between the door and the frame.
He screamed out, the bones in his phalanges breaking under the pressure and his membrane tearing as he tried to jerk his wing out.
Someone leapt at him, grabbing his horns to drag him down violently.
He lashed out, his clawed fingers catching in flesh as he threw them off. Someone latched onto him from behind and he grabbed them, throwing them off his back. He finally wrenched his wing from the door and faced his attackers, getting a proper look at them.
The two were more animalistic fae, tiger like and very angry. Kitsen had caught one in the ribs, blood leaking down his side. The wound was deep, Kitsen knew, but the two fae, likely siblings, were being propelled by adrenaline and rage, and it always took a while for a wound to stagger a fae.
Kitsen bared his sharp teeth, his fangs proudly on display as he crouched. “Think carefully about what you do next,” he hissed. “I will not tolerate assassins in my palace.”
The tigers snarled in unison, tails lashing, before the dove for him again, forcing him to defend himself on both sides as they came at him from two different angles.
Still, he was bigger than them, and even through the pain, he could hold his own with his hands and his wings. He could ignore the pain himself.
The wounded tiger was beginning to flag, gasping for air and letting his sibling take on the main attacks.
Kitsen landed a back handed swipe to the sibling, slicing gashes deep into their face.
The tigers fell back into the bedroom, hissing and growling as Kitsen drew himself up to his full height. He lifted a hand, preparing to cast a binding spell he had learned from his studies in the magic arts of the rulers of the courts, when the injured tiger yowled and Kitsen heard something outside the door.
“Help!”
Kitsen froze as a yelp of pain came from the same voice. He whipped around and opened the door, staring out at what was going on.
A fae with gilded paper wings grinned at him, her hair falling over her eyes so he couldn’t see them. “Sorry to bother you, highness,” she said, tightening her elbow around Damien’s dark throat, his silvery eyes wide with fear as he struggled against the headlock, twisted where she held his wrists down at his hips in one hand. “But perhaps we could have a civilized conversation.
Kitsen bared his teeth at her. “Civilized!? You call this civilized!?” Still, he didn’t move another step, terrified of what she might do to Damien, who had already been through more than enough as a slave in this terribly upside down court.
“Oh, yes. Mm, so it’s true you care about humans. I felt that you would, but it is strange for one such as yourself to be worried about someone like him. Sure, he is beautiful, and I have never seen a human with freckles like metal shards in their face, but I don’t mind killing him, do I make myself clear?”
“You kill him, and there is nothing I won’t do to make sure you suffer for 15 years before you die,” Kitsen seethed.
She clicked her tongue, raising her elbow so Damien choked and had to stand on his tiptoes to breath. “But I could hurt him, couldn’t I.”
She had him. There was nothing Kitsen could do. It must have shown in his face how defeated he was as she threw back her head a laughed before looking back at him.
“Kneel.”
He hesitated, for only a moment before he dropped to his knees.
She dropped her elbow and Damien gasped in a breath, tears clumping his white eyelashes together. “No! Kitsen, don’’t-”
“Shut it,” the fae hissed in his ear before nipping at it, causing him to yelp as her sharp teeth drew blood. “Anything you do to annoy me will be met with pain, too. You will both do exactly as I say, understand me?”
Kitsen nodded numbly and Damien drew in a shuddery breath.
“Good. I am Minerva. And I am going to be the queen of the Autumn Courts. Ly! Ty!”
The tiger siblings came out, the injured one breathing raggedly.
“Mistress, Ty is injured,” Ly said softly. “May we go find a healer.”
“If he can find one, he can. You are going to bind our King and escort him to my rooms. I will need to play with him tonight to finish planning out how I will announce myself as Queen. I have to outdo him, at least. He’s made it difficult, though, what with the way he took the Queen’s head off in court.”
Kitsen growled low in his chest as Ly nodded, making sure Ty could walk before grabbing him by a horn to make sure he didn’t skewer them while they reached for his wrist.
Kitsen stared directly at Damien, trying to tell him it would be fine. He would find a way out and he would not let any harm come to the white haired human.
He caught a glimpse of movement behind Minerva and felt his spirits rise as he guessed who was approaching silently from behind, keeping his eyes locked on Damien’s.
Just as Minerva opened her mouth to make demands that Ly go faster, a heavy statuette came down on her head and she crumpled.
Kitsen overpowered Ly and drove his horns through their guts, shaking Ly hard, sending their body flying to smack into a wall as they spasmed and cried out piteously.
Kitsen got up, stumbling to where Duulan, his pumpkin headed servant and best friend, was helping Damien up, hugging him and telling him it would be alright.
“Damien! Are you hurt?” Kitsen asked, pulling Duulan and the human into a hug.
Damien nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not! You’re bleeding!”
“It’s just a scratch on my ear. You’re bleeding too!”
Kitsen was very uninterested in the bleeding scratches on his neck and back where the tigers had tried to hang onto him. “It’s fine. Did they hurt you? Did she crush your throat at all? Can you still breathe? This is all my fault! I should have brought Putac and Leor and had them go where you went. I-”
“Kitsen!” Duulan said soothingly, letting go of Damien and grabbing Kitsen’s face. “Relax. It’s fine. Where else are you hurt?”
“I-My wing. I think it’s broken.”
Duulan nodded. “I will find a healer and make sure these ones are dead. Go to Damien’s room and wait there. Please.”
Kitsen bowed his head. “Okay.”
“Good,” Duulan said, a bounce in his step as he drew out a knife. “I will be back shortly.”
Kitsen turned from Duulan’s upbeat malice to Damien’s shaking form, wrapping his unbroken wing around him like he did when sneaking him away from Erix to make sure he got some food. “We’d better do as he says,” he told Damien softly. “It’s okay, now. I am so sorry I allowed this to happen.”
“It’s alright,” Damien replied, leaning into Kitsen’s side. “It’s not your fault.”
Kitsen sighed, but allowed the statement to pass with no comment.
