Know Your Place
Julia, Fire Emblem Genealogy of the Holy War, Fire Emblem Heroes
Non-con, bloodletting, stabbing, snuff
Berkut misses Rinea, stranded as he is in the world of Askr. But he happens upon Julia, and decides to have a little fun.

XXX

Being away from the intrigues of the Rigelian empire is, to be sure, a blessing in disguise. Sure, there is a slight chance Berkut could be replaced while he is away, if time even passes in such a way back in Valentia, but with no control over the situation, the prince decides to cope however he can. Though, admittedly, he misses Rinea quite dearly. Often, he finds himself toying with the engagement ring he keeps on his person, remembering the softness of her touch, the light of her smile. It’s enough to make him furious.

It takes some cruel gods indeed to separate the two of them, and Berkut vows to make them pay some day. For now, however, he does his best to wander the halls of the Askrian castle, hoping to avoid the other “heroes” that are really nothing more than common riffraff. Commoners, who deign to speak to him? It’s horribly offensive.

Of course, those that hurry past him, hardly daring to make eye contact, are somehow more offensive.

XXX

Julia knows nothing of the man who shares the hall with her. Once suffering from amnesia, such a lack of familiarity should be, in itself, familiar. But the dark haired young man fills her with a certain dread; as if the malice that oozes out of him chills the very air of the hall. She keeps her eyes down, walking past him without a word. Perhaps it is rude, but something about him simply doesn’t sit right with her.

Once she is past him, however, she notices that the heavy sound of his footfalls stops. It was an aggressive sound, weighty boots on a stone floor, and the absence is oppressive in and of itself. Still, Julia keeps walking. Surely another member of the Order of Heroes would leave her be, correct? What business does he have with her anyway? But then, his voice rings out.

“Not so much as an ‘Evening, milord?’” he asks, his tone accusatory. “This place is so damnably backward. Nobody knows their place at all, commoners like yourself stroll around without a shred of dignity.”

“Uhm… I’m actually of noble birth…” Julia corrects him, not turning back to face him.

“And yet you’re timid as a mouse. Your birth means nothing if you don’t live up to it. If you act like some timid little tavern wench, that’s all you deserve to be, isn’t it?” he asks, closing the distance between them.

“I’m… I’m not sure I follow,” Julia says, finally turning. By the time she does, Berkut is within arm’s reach, and he grips her shoulder tightly. His nails dig into her, even through her robes, and he looks her up and down. There’s a certain panic in her eyes, and Berkut feels a stirring within him. Perhaps Rinea is worlds away, but this woman has him in the mood for a different sort of entertainment anyway.

“I’m just saying, no noble is as timid as you. If they are, they deserve their title stripped from them. What’s your name, anyway?” he asks, an innocent question as he shoves her against the wall. Berkut feels himself growing more and more excited, the more he toys with this timid woman. Soon, she’ll know her place.

“J-Julia,” she says, coughing as she tries to catch her breath. Berkut is far from gentle, and the impact forced the air from her lungs.

“No title? Hmph, of course not. I am Berkut, heir to the throne of RIgel and nephew of Emperor Rudolf. You would do well to remember my name, wretch,” he introduces himself, tone brokering no argument. At the end, he slams his body against hers, crushing her against the wall and driving the air from her lungs once more. He outweighs her considerably, a combination of his training and his armor, and Julia is sure she felt something crack.

The impact leaves her sputtering and coughing once more, and panic begins to seize her. WIth how close he is, and how dazed she already is, it isn’t likely that Julia can escape. Gifted mage though she may be, Berkut has the advantage in close quarters. Her expression shifts, and Berkut grins down at her as he notices the fear in her eyes.

That is, until her fear leads to something else. Julia is suddenly very much aware of how full her bladder is, and how incapable she is of controlling it in her panic. With a soft whimper, she gives in to her fear, and a hissing sound fills the hall as her hot piss streams down her legs, dampening her robes on its way. Berkut can smell it immediately, and his grin turns into a grimace.

“I knew you were a baseless commoner posing as a noble, but Gods. Pissing yourself? In front of a prince?” Berkut asks, appalled. “Have you no shame whatsoever?!”

“I… I’m sorry, it was an-” Julia begins, but Berkut has already reared back his mailed fist, and it strikes her stomach before she can finish speaking. He steps back, then, allowing her to double over in pain. Julia struggles for a moment, overwhelmed by pain, as stomach rolls from the blow. She begins to wretch, the contents of her stomach trying to force themselves out, and she desperately tries to swallow them back down. It’s no use, however, and the mess beneath her grows.

“Gods, utterly disgusting,” Berkut mutters, “I think it’s about time we relocate, since you’ve soiled this otherwise acceptable hallway, hm?”

And he drags her to his quarters, which are luckily close enough that no one notices them.

XXX

“P-please… why are you doing this?” Julia asks, as her ties her other wrist, tightly, to the bedframe.

“You need to learn your place,” he answers, “and I’m eager to show you just how beneath me you are.”

By now, her piss-soaked robes have been cut away, and Julia lies naked on Berkut’s bed. His eyes flit over her with a hungry edge to them, and he finds himself eager to become more intimate with his prey. A part of him feels guilty, wondering what Rinea would say of this, but… Rinea is far from here, and he has to fill the void somehow.

“But… we’re not enemies. I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this…” Julia continues, hoping she can reason with her captor. What she’s already been through was horrifying, but… what seems to be coming next can’t be any better.

“Would you ask why a predator hunts its prey? The predator has a need, and the prey satisfies that need. This is nothing more than that, and resisting your better won’t do you any good,” Berkut says, and Julia struggles feebly against the ropes that bind her wrists and ankles. The knots are far too tight, however, and the ropes too strong. The mage has no chance of escape, until Berkut sees fit to free her.

“Please…” she says, but Berkut only smiles down at her. Though a smile from such a handsome man would usually carry warmth, Berkut’s only bears malice. Something about the hungry look in his eyes, the way he seems to savor whatever is coming… it sends a chill down Julia’s spine. And as he climbs into the bed with her, kneeling down between her legs, Julia’s heart begins to race. He adjusts her binds, spreading her legs easily, and she can feel his eyes on her.

She’s never been this bare before a man, and it’s enough to fill her with shame all on its own. But the way he toyed with her before dragging her here, the way he trussed her up like this, it all makes it so much worse. And as his lips touch her thigh, nipping at her gently, Julia can’t help but cry out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks, but Berkut doesn’t so much as pause. He works his way closer and closer to her entrance, and Julia suddenly finds the room growing warm. Hot, even. The air was cold on her bare skin only moments ago, but now there’s a heat spreading through her, starting between her legs, where Berkut finally presses his mouth.

With skillful precision, he buries his tongue in her, exploring her eagerly, filling her with a damp heat. Julia strains against her bonds, wriggling as much as she can under his touch, hating how incredible it feels, like nothing she’s felt before. Sure, she has touched herself in the past, once while thinking of her half-brother, though at the time she had no idea of the truth of his birth, but this was something else entirely. Berkut’s tongue was much more flexible than her fingers, and he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Still, Julia did her best to hold back, biting her lip and balling up her hands, digging her nails into her palms to distract herself.

As his tongue brushes against her clit, however, nothing can take her mind from the pleasure she feels. Julia cries out, her own body betraying her, and Berkut focuses on her clit, eager to have found her weakest point. In only a moment, she’s panting, hardly able to think straight, let alone plead for her freedom.

“You claim to be of noble birth, yet you’re panting like a bitch in heat in just a few moments,” Berkut says, his voice muffled as he makes no effort to pull back, the feeling of his words bringing its own pleasure. “Absolutely pathetic, you were meant to be a whore, hm?”

Is he right? Julia thinks, unable to speak as her body is pushed closer and closer to the edge. It feels so good, I… I can’t even begin to resist…

Berkut pushes her even harder, and in only a few seconds, Julia is over the edge, her nails digging into her palms deeply enough to draw blood as she cries out. It’s amazing, better than anything she’s felt before, and Julia finds herself craving more even as she hates the feeling. Hates how it feels as though her own body is betraying her, making her enjoy something so awful. Berkut rises, then, looking over her once more.

“So? I suppose you are a whore then, aren’t you?” he asks, “Don’t cling to nobility if you’re this pathetic. Any true noble would have resisted me. At least for a moment, but you gave in like it was nothing. You truly are below my station, slut.”

“I… I guess I am... “ Julia admits, each of his words heavy as a stone.

“Well, I have no use for a whore,” Berkut says, reaching for his belt, movements almost too quick for Julia to follow. When his hand pulls away, he wields a small dagger, and she feels a brief flash of hope as he moves the blade towards the rope at her wrist. Though a small part of her wants to experience more, she knows being set free would be a blessing, and Julia finds herself praying for her freedom.

It’s a surprise when the cold steel presses against the flesh of her wrist. Berkut pushes down, dragging the blade through the flesh of her wrist so quickly the pain doesn’t sink in for a moment. He switches sides, and slits her other wrist as well. Julia cries out, a mix of pain and horror, as she feels her life’s blood seeping out of her with each frantic beat of her heart. Tears begin streaming down her face, and a chill begins to sink in.

Berkut still gazes down at her, and the prideful prince reaches down, freeing his cock from his trousers. She is surprised to see he’s hard, and wonders if he gets some sick pleasure out of this. Out of the way her blood pours onto the bed, staining the sheets and spreading out beneath them. He pushes the tip of his cock against her entrance, enjoying how wet she is from his earlier efforts. He thrusts into her, making no effort to be gentle, and the feeling is enough to drag Julia back to clarity.

It doesn’t last long, however, as more and more of her blood leaves her body. The feeling of him fucking her, thrusting in and out of her, grows more and more distant with each passing second, as her eyes lose their focus.

I’m going to die, she thinks, mind grappling with the horrifying fact. Of course, it isn’t the first time the mage has met her end in the world of Askr, but this is different. Death before was so sudden, so quick, her attacker nothing more than a foe on the battlefield. But this is so close, so drawn out, Julia can hardly comprehend it. Will she come back? Or is the magic that revives them on the field of battle not present in the castle? Only time will tell.

Berkut’s wicked grin fills her vision, his piercing gaze seeming to see right through her, until it all fades away. The last sensation Julia experiences is a sudden heat filling her body, something she has never felt before, and can’t place for the life of her. All she knows is it’s a pleasant feeling, and offsets the chill she feels nicely. Then, her eyes flutter shut, and she fades away.

XXX

Berkut comes inside of her, just before she fades away, grunting softly as he watches the life drain from her eyes. He pauses, looking over the mess that is his bed. The prince hopes his theory is correct, or this night’s about to be nothing but a lot of boring clean-up. Still, it might be a long wait as he tests the limits of their resurrection. Luckily he has a fine toy in Julia’s body, and he reaches up, cupping one of her still warm breasts as he begins thrusting into her once more.

She might not clench up around him, or squirm as he pushes into her, but the heat of her body is still pleasant. She’s no Rinea, of course, but she will at least while away a night. Especially if she does come back, and he gets to go through the whole process again. Berkut honestly can’t say if he’d rather her come back, or stay dead, but for now, fucking her corpse is enough.

XXX

Julia’s blood seems to drain out of the bed, flowing back into her wounds, which seal up clean, not even leaving the faintest of scars. Her eyes open, a serene calm there, as if she’s waking up from a deep sleep. But when her vision comes into focus, she notices something is horribly wrong. This isn’t her room. She can’t move… she’s completely bare… and there’s an unfamiliar man holding a wicked looking lance.

“Welcome back, whore. You and I are going to have a lot of fun tonight, hm?” Berkut says, and vague memories bubble up from the still groggy depths of her mind. A flash of steel, blood pouring from her wrists, his body against hers, in hers, and Julia screams. That is, until the tip of his lance presses into her throat, silencing her as it rends her flesh. Berkut laughs, then, watching her gurgle and thrash as she chokes on her own blood. “We’re certainly going to have fun, Julia.”