Second Day (2 of 4)
Breaking Free: Damion is set free by the summit, and begins to unravel in the silence of his new autonomy
‘Breaking Free’ Content Warning: Erotic Psychological Drama
This story contains scenes of psychological distress, dubiously consensual intimacy, emotional dependency, complex trauma recovery, and themes of power imbalance and identity reconstruction.
This story explores the fragile process of healing after long-term dehumanization, the difficulty of regaining agency, and the intimate entanglements that form in the aftermath of captivity.
Proceed with care.
"So that's what Deryn's motive was," Mulsae turns to Damion, "Serelinne is his brother's lover," he scoffs, "I never even knew her name before now." He shakes his head.
Mulsae stands and jerks his chin to the terrace, "Let's talk."
Damion nods shyly and gets up to follow Mulsae to the terrace. Mulsae strolls over and leans a hip on the balcony. He takes one of Damion's hands in his.
"It seems you had an interesting night last night," Mulsae smiles gently.
Damion blanches. A cold sweat breaks out across his skin. He did a lot last night that he wasn't supposed to.
"You're a good boy, Damion, I'm not upset with you," Mulsae says soothingly. "I'm proud of you. You're going to be on your own soon and I'm glad you're meeting people. Maedor, Zeven, and Deryn are good people. They are the type of people I told you to find: people who won't judge you and will accept you exactly the way you are."
Damion's lips part in surprise.
"I'm glad you all were successful last night. You can't believe how difficult it was for me to not take a peek into your mind so I could find out the definitions you came up with," Mulsae chuckles softly, "The curiosity was killing me."
"You wanted us to succeed?" Damion is puzzled.
"Take down Sorvak? Free his wife? Ensure marriages are truly consensual? By the gods, yes," Mulsae says.
"But you'll lose me," Damion says softly.
Mulsae smiles and runs a hand down Damion's cheek, "I'm losing you. These are our last moments together. I'm being selfish and trying to enjoy them."
Mulsae sighs with a bittersweet smile, "Just in case this is literally our last moment together, I wanted to give you this." He takes a folded parchment out of his pocket and hands it to Damion.
"This is Heavenwood parchment. I have its pair which will reflect everything that is written on your copy. You can use it if you ever want to reach me. For anything," he ducks his head to ensure he has eye contact with Damion, "Absolutely anything at all. Nothing is too small. Do you understand?"
Damion nods, "Yes," he whispers. He sticks the folded parchment in the pocket of his robe.
"Remember: I promised to take care of you, and that promise isn't ending. I will help you out of any trouble you get into. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Damion whispers.
"Is there anything you'd like to say to me?" Mulsae asks softly.
Damion looks him in the eye and says, "I hate you. And the fact that I don't hate you completely makes me hate you even more."
"I understand," Mulsae says solemnly.
"You're a fucked up person, Mulsae," he says in all earnestness, "You do bad things. You do good things. You hurt me. You comforted and cared for me."
"I know," Mulsae sighs, "I know."
"You're fucked up, Mulsae," Damion says with a shake of his head, and then turns and walks away. He walks back to the meeting area and slumps down into his chair with his arms crossed.
Damion doesn't know what to think of Mulsae. He's going to miss his... friend. The one who talked to him about books and taught him about the world. The one who comforted him when he was sad. The one whose touch could bring him to the highest forms of pleasure.
He is thrilled to be getting away from his captor. The one who routinely raped him. The one who made him kneel for hours. The one who paraded him around naked and humiliated him. The one who cut off access to his own cock.
Can he keep the friend and be freed from the captor? He shakes his head and scowls. No, he can't separate the two. They come as a package deal.
There's a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks up and sees Deryn looking down at him sympathetically, "What's with the sad face? You're going to be free soon."
Damion sits up in the chair properly, "I wish it could be easy, but it's not. I am filled with conflicting emotions and it's really frustrating."
Deryn crouches down, "You're not alone. Even Serelinne is feeling conflicted right now. It's the nature of domestic violence. It's insidious. Love, and hate, and fear, and empathy all swirl together and become inextricable from each other."
He jerks his chin towards Selune, "The Marsh Sanctum has domestic violence support networks. You'll be supported. You'll be in good hands."
Damion gives a small smile, "Thank you." Deryn nods then pats Damion's knee and stands up to stroll away back to his seat.
The Masters and their chosen partners start heading toward their seats. Mulsae sits in the chair next to Damion. Once everyone has seated, Selune begins.
"Thank you all for returning. Before the break we agreed upon definitions of slave, prisoner, and spouse. We have previously agreed to incorporate these definitions into the policies of our respective Sanctums. The next order of business is to decide upon Damion's current status while under Mulsae's care. Is he a slave or a prisoner? Any comments before we proceed?"
Selune looks around the room and sees shaking heads.
"I would like to begin by questioning Damion and see how his treatment compares to the terms we've just defined," says Selune. No one objects.
"Damion," Selune begins, "Do you feel your life is controlled by Water Master Mulsae? If so, how?"
Damion clears his throat and steals a glance at Mulsae. "Yes, Mulsae controls every aspect of my life. He dictates what I do every minute of every day, including how I wash and relieve myself."
"Have you been free to leave?"
"No."
"Do you know why Water Master Mulsae decided to control your life?"
"I was a soldier in an army that rebelled against him. I was taken as a prisoner of war."
"Where would you say you live?"
"I live with Mulsae."
"Where do you sleep?"
"I sleep in his bed."
"Has your body been altered for the sexual gratification of another?"
Damion squirms uncomfortably in his seat. He clears his throat, "Yes."
"How so?"
"I was given a tongue piercing and..." he cracks his neck and a flush burns across his skin, "He has stretched my anus so that it can accept his cock without prep."
Halion shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Dalenna's eyebrows are firmly embedded in her hairline.
"Have you been manipulated or coerced into performing behaviors for the personal gratification of another?"
"Yes. He always has me eat from his chopsticks, even when we are alone. He forces me to look into his eyes while using the toilet," he rubs his hand on the back of his neck, "He forces me to use my mouth on his cock."
"Thank you, Damion, that is all the questions I have," Selune looks out at everyone, "Does anyone else have any questions for Damion?" She's met with shaking heads. "Any objections on voting on Damion's current status while under Water Master Mulsae's control?" More shaking heads. "Flame Sanctum abstains since they left these proceedings. So, Ground Master Dalenna, we'll start with you."
"Slave," she says.
"Marsh Sanctum abstains," Selune says.
"Slave," votes Halion.
"Water Sanctum abstains," says Mulsae as he picks lint off his knee.
"Slave," Garrick says solemnly.
"Slave," Deryn says with a nod to Damion.
"It has been decided by this council that Water Master Mulsae has been keeping Damion as a slave. Since slavery has been abolished universally, Mulsae is not allowed to continue to control Damion's movements."
Selune turns to Damion, "You are free to leave this room and go wherever you wish. I recommend that you go back to your room and await one of my counselors to speak with you and see how the Marsh Sanctum may assist you. But that is your choice, and your choice alone. You are free to make your own choices from now on."
Damion nervously eyes everyone. Deryn smiles and nods at him. He glances at Mulsae who also nods to him. He stands and slowly walks away. He steals a glance behind him and everyone is watching him.
He reaches the open-air stairs carved into the mountain’s face, leading toward the central plaza above. A grin breaks across his face. Instead of climbing the stairs, he bolts for the edge of the balcony and jumps!
Wind rushes past as he dives, wings slicing through the air. He loops and weaves, soaring higher, then plunging low, laughter caught in his throat. The mountain and sky blur around him in joyful motion. When the thrill settles into calm, he angles toward the palace and lands lightly at its entrance, still smiling.
He enters the palace and tries to remember the way back to his room. Left at the sculpture... or right? Umm... I don't recognize this hallway, maybe I should turn back. I had gone right at the painting... or left?
A gentle appearing Sylvaran man approaches, "Do you need help?"
Damion looks up at him bashfully, "I don't know the way to my room."
The man smiles kindly, "I would be happy to escort you."
Damion follows the Sylvaran, admiring his green feathered wings the entire way. This is why he doesn't know how to get to his room, he's too damn distracted by these gorgeous wings!
They arrive at his room, and Damion has no idea how they got there. "Thank you for your help," he says softly.
The man smiles warmly and bows, "My pleasure," then turns to walk away.
Damion enters his room and stands in the middle. He doesn't know what to do. He would really like to talk to this counselor that Selune had mentioned. He decides to sit in the chair by the fire and wait for this counselor. And wait.
And wait.
He's gotten used to waiting. Mulsae has been making him wait pointless hours all the time. The sun is growing lower on the horizon.
There is a knock on the door and Damion jumps up excitedly. The door opens and a servant enters bearing a tray of food. "Dinner is ready," the servant says.
Damion takes the tray and thanks them before they leave, closing the door with a soft snick behind him. Damion is alone again.
He sits at the desk. He hasn't been alone in two years. He has constantly been at Mulsae's side. He's alone now. He'd always been surrounded by other soldiers in a lively noisy Hearthhold. Then he was constantly at Mulsae's side. And now he's alone. All alone. Like how he was alone those buggy nights in a makeshift tent as a child. Left to fend for himself. Alone. Alone.
Alone.
He's having trouble breathing. He sucks in a gasping breath and razorblades flood his lungs. He sinks off the chair to the floor breathing rapidly but getting no air.
Breathe in, hold... breathe out, hold... breathe in, hold... breathe out, hold... Mulsae's voice chants to him to use his breath to calm his nerves. He doesn't know if it's really Mulsae in his mind, or merely a memory. Mulsae always knew how to calm him down and get him to relax.
Mulsae seemed to know him so well. Better than anyone ever had. He sinks further into the floor on to his side curled in a ball under the desk. Fuck Mulsae. But he seemed to have seen every part of him and found him good. He seemed to have seen through to his very soul and judged him as good. He felt seen and known by Mulsae. Fuck Mulsae.
Tears begin to fall. He's so fucking frustrated. Fuck Mulsae. Those glowing blue eyes flash before him. Fuck Mulsae. Fuck Mulsae. Fuck him.
There is a gentle knock on the door and it opens. In walks a Sky-Touched woman with glowing grey eyes. "Damion, I'm the counselor sent to speak with you."
Damion pops his head up so it can be seen above the surface of the desk. "Yes," Damion blurts through tear soaked lips. He angrily rubs his face along the sleeve of his robe. "Yes," he says, "I've been expecting you." Understatement. He jumps up to his feet and walks over to her.
"Hello, Damion," she dips her chin, "I'm Falloway. Most just call me Fal. It's nice to meet you."
"Thanks, yes, I'm happy to meet you," Damion says awkwardly.
She gestures to the two chairs in front of the fire, "May we sit?"
"Yes, please," Damion says, relieved.
They both get settled in the chairs. Damion breathes in and out kind of giddy. He doesn't know what's going to happen, just that something new is going to happen.
"I have been informed that you have just been released from a domestic violence situation," Falloway says gently.
"That is putting it mildly," he smirks.
Continue reading: Second Day (3 of 4)
Chapter Index