Luna- Fairy Wars

Consciousness crept back to Luna like a **** shadow, her senses slowing returning in the darkness. She cracked her neck then shifted, the metallic clink of a chain echoing softly as cold realization gripped her.

She was shackled. Her tiny heart beat in her chest as she realised what had happened to her. She must have been captured by the dark elves. It was the worst fate a fairy could think of. Worse than ****.

A thick shroud of fabric concealed her world, draping over a cage that held her tiny form prisoner.

She tugged at the restraint on her ankle, but it was a futile gesture. The enchanted cuff was a familiar bane, its presence whispering of dampened magic, of wings clipped by unseen forces. She ran her fingers around its edge, feeling the grooves of the magic rune.

Panic fluttered in her chest, a trapped bird against ribs that felt too much like the bars surrounding her.

Light assaulted her vision abruptly as the blanket was yanked away. Luna covered her eyes as they teared from the bright light, the green of her eyes flickering with fear and defiance. Before her loomed a dark elf, his blue-grey skin a stark contrast to the dimness. He was so huge, a giant to her.

"Awake at last," he sneered, his voice a velvet knife. "I am Naryn, your new master."

Luna's wings, delicate and **** for freedom, tensed against her back as she heard that last word. She swallowed her pride, her nature clawing beneath her skin, urging her to charm, to seduce. The cold glint in Naryn's eyes promised only cruelty, and she resisted the urge to flutter her wings at him.

The travel cage lurched, and she was airborne, carried like some prized trophy through the expanse of the larger enclosure. Its size dwarfed her petite form, the tiny bars laughing at any thought of escape.

Released from confinement, Luna unfurled her wings, their iridescence catching stray beams of light and the edges sparkling. She looked up and beat her wings and she soared, the air a sweet caress against her bare skin, the only kindness afforded to her in this prison. Below, Naryn watched, a predator's admiration for the beauty of his prey.

Her flight led her to the centre of the enclosure, where a stripper pole rose like a totem of debasement. She circled it warily, the stage beneath an altar of humiliation. Yet her body moved of its own accord, grace and allure woven into every fibre of her being, even when her heart rebelled.

Naryn's gaze followed her, unblinking, daring her to defy him. But Luna knew the futility of resistance, knew the stakes of this wicked game. And so, she flew around the pole, a silent rebellion in the arch of her back, a challenge in the flicker of her wings.

"Beautiful," Naryn murmured, a single word laced with darkness, a promise of the suffering yet to come. Luna didn't respond, her focus solely on the hypnotic rhythm of survival, her movements a fleeting escape from the reality of her chains.

"Perform for me."