“Just showing these buffoons how to properly keep a prisoner. Stand here, yes, like that, and put your hands out.”
She faced him, profile to the guards, and lifted her arms from the elbows before her, brows pinched in bewilderment.
“Now, look, and pay close attention,” he began as the second elven guard came up, the crystal spearhead found though its tip was predictably snapped off. “Your instinct will tell you to do this.” Damien looped the rope around Amma’s wrists then tied a loose knot in the center. “But it can’t be tightened, and is easy to break out of anyway.” He slipped a finger into the knot’s center and undid it before going on to more complexly tie her hands together. “You should instead loop around each wrist separately and then bind them together like so, knot on the bottom to make getting to it with teeth more difficult. You see?”
Damien held up her hands so the two guards could get a better look. He took a quick assessment of Amma, the confusion gone, but her eyes remained very wide.
“But,” he said, again undoing the knot with a wiggle of a finger where he’d left it loose, “an enterprising prisoner can sever this much more easily if they can see it, and even if they can’t find something sharp to rub against, they’ll be at an advantage running with their hands in front of them—better balance and the ability to grip a weapon, so…” He lifted one of Amma’s arms and spun her to face away from him. When he gathered her other wrist and pulled them together behind her, she inhaled sharply, standing straight. Worrying he’d hurt her, Damien loosened his grip. “Binding behind a prisoner’s back is better, especially if they’re in transport. You’ll want to change the knot then, like so.”
When he looped the rope over itself and tightened it to pull Amma’s wrists together, her fingers flexed and then clenched, but he had been very gentle that time, determined not to cause any pain. He gave the rope a light tug, forcing her shoulders back a bit more, and leaned in. Another gasp escaped her lips. “Too tight?” he asked up against her ear.
She started then giggled nervously, voice hoarse, “No, no, it’s okay.”
Damien carefully lifted her arms a bit to show the guards. One had bent to see better, the other kneeling, face pressed against the reeds. “But neither of these are ideal, they leave far too much freedom.” Damien again undid the knot but left the rope looped around one of her wrists. He spun her by the rope to face him again, and he didn’t need to collect her free hand, she simply stuck it out to him.
He hesitated. Was that eagerness, or was she just being helpful? Her mouth had fallen slightly open, but her chest was still like she were holding a breath, and her eyes remained unblinking.
Taking her hands together, he walked her a few steps backward to the wall of the cage. From the other side of the bars, the elves scurried along with them.
“Ideally,” he said, retying her hands, eyes locked onto hers, “you’ve got somewhere to keep them, and you can secure your captive to the spot.” With a quick movement, Damien lifted both of Amma’s arms above her head and pressed them against the reed wall, looping the excess length of rope over a vertical bar and pulling down so her arms were taut. She sucked in another breath as he stepped closer to her and held the rope secure.
“When you’ve got someone bound up, they should believe they’re truly in danger, like you might do anything to them, no matter how vile or loathsome, to get what you want.” Damien tugged the excess length of the rope, and Amma inched up onto the balls of her feet. Her gaze never broke from his, eyes bright with, well, it wasn’tfearthis time, though it should have been. “But you can’t leave them hopeless. You can’t break them. You should instead push them right to the edge, to make them think if they only obey your commands, if they only relinquish control, that you won’t actually be so cruel.”
Watching her try to suppress the hitch in her breath with her arms pulled taut overhead urged Damien even closer. Her body arched toward him as he let the weight of his arm ever so slightly continue to inch her up onto her toes. Amma lifted a leg, her knee and thigh brushing along his.
“Let them believe if they only surrender to your will completely, you’ll make it worth it, in the end.”
Her hips finally pressed against his, eyes pleading, but not to be released.
“We’re ready for the prisoner,” a voice called from behind, and the elven guards scrambled to stand from where they had been leaning in, nearly losing their weapons. They turned and began trading words in their language with the elf who had come.
Damien released the rope, and Amma slid down the cage with a sigh. With her arms still bound behind her head, she wasn’t quick to regain her balance, and Damien caught her about the waist. He pulled her to him up off the cage wall, pressing the rest of her body into his. Immediately, he knew it was a mistake, body reacting without his permission, but she was like liquid in his arms, demanding to be held up.
“I need both hands to untie you,” he said, and with a noise like she’d suddenly woken from a dream, she planted her feet firmly on the ground. Amma held her hands out to him again, face flushed and looking everywhere but at him. With room to breathe, he could have undone the knot he’d made very simply, but instead leaned in. “You do want me to untie you, don’t you?”
Amma swallowed, hesitating. Then she pushed her bound wrists closer to him, nodding.
With her between him and the bars, he cupped her hands and took his time carefully working in a finger, slipping the rope free of itself. Dropping the thin cord of hemp, he surveyed her wrists for damage. Only slightly red from the pressure, the markings would be gone in just a few moments, but he rubbed his thumbs over the soft flesh on the inside of her wrists anyway. “Apologies if I was too rough for your liking.”
She shook her head, still averting her gaze as he tried to find it with his own.
“I see. Tighter next time, then,” he whispered as the flimsy door on the cage opened with a creak. She finally looked up at him, shocked, and Damien reluctantly released her hands to turn toward the guard. “Has my presence finally been summoned?” he asked, raging with a confidence he’d forgotten he always had.
“Ah, no, sir,” said a smaller elven woman who stood between the two guards. “The conclave wants to speak with her.”
At that, Amma peeked around him and pointed at herself. The elven woman gestured to her, and all Damien could do was watch as Amma went for the door. “Wait, what?”
“It’s all right,” Amma told him quickly. “I’ll take care of it.” And then she was whisked away.
One of the guards scrambled to shut the door after realizing it was left open, and Damien scoffed. “Don’t bother.” He stalked over to the cot and threw himself down.
Kaz was in the cage’s other corner, glaring at him, arms crossed, a foot tapping the ground.
“What?”
The imp growled, gesturing wildly to the space around him. “Master, whatwasthat?”
Damien fell back and covered up his face with his hands. “Oh, shut up.”
