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He paid no attention to her when his men threw her limp body in the caged carriage. After he invaded her kingdom, snapped her father’s neck, and burned her castle to the ground along with all inside it, the weak princess fell faint from the shock.
Her glowing bauble that once breathed a golden ray, fell dim and lifeless upon her lap.
Meaning he’d have to wait until she awoke. If he wanted any answers, that is.
Patience was something he knew well.
Too well. It’s irritating at best; maddening at worst.
Still, it’s no matter now. She will either be of use to him- or not.
Upon return to his dwellings, the decaying desolation that was his own castle, where nothing grew and no pure light shone, it wasn’t long until he and his expendable army gathered in the main hall, just the little slumbering princess began stirring from her dreams.
He still did not care when the men violently roused her; pulling at her long, unkempt hair and dragging her up by those frail shoulders.
He paid no mind to her cries, her protests, and flailing as they pulled her towards him while he sat listless on his stone throne.
He didn’t even care to remember her name.
The Horned King normally wouldn’t care for anything that wasn’t of use to him.
Until he saw her face.
Even with dirt, ash, and dust smearing her cheeks, her youthfulness beamed through.
Her fervently bright aura.
Her genuine essence radiating sweet light.
As if she was candlelight itself illuminating the shadows; effortless, vulnerable yet powerful.
And he could tell she was unaware of it. As most youths are.
From the dark voids that were within his hollowed eye sockets, a glint of interest thrummed within. Why it has arisen, he did not know.
“s-Sire?” A timid, pathetic voice whispers.
The King barely registered the little goblin cowering at his feet.
The girl’s floating drop of captured sunlight slowly lifted itself up from its greyed, hardened state, rising up near the princess’s face, her eyes softening at its gleam. Its warmth capturing her gentle vibrance tenderly.
The Horned King didn’t know why his gaze fixated on her so steadily, slightly bewildering him.
What was it about her that held his attention so long?
Blinking slowly, before breathing out into the air, all stilled as he spoke, “That iridescent sphere you command, child..”
The princess froze. Shaken by his cold voice echoing out of him.
Her shining round, blue eyes filled with fear clashed against her feigned shroud of false bravery. Trembling at his horrid visage, her mouth quivering before she stutters, “..yes, Your..M-Majesty?”
“How have you acquired it? Why does it obey you?”
She swallows, wincing at the tight grasp her captors had on her. “It-ouch! Not so hard!” She snapped at the one who just twisted her arm. Trying to yank herself free to no avail.
He raised an unseen eyebrow, somewhat surprised by her open irritation. Quite the fiery temperament. he notes mentally.
However, her anger almost looked oddly more endearing rather than threatening.
He silently nodded at the henchmen who gripped her. In turn, they released the young maiden from their clutches, practically throwing her upon the cold, hard floor. She frowned defiantly at the two grisly men before returning herself to the king.
Feebly adorable.
“It was gifted to me, Your Highness. By my…mother.” The girl’s shining eyes reddened and watered sorrowfully as she rubbed any swelling tears away with her sleeve. Her ratty blonde hair clung to her face as she did so, hiding her intense grief.
“It helps me guide my way in darkness..” she said softly.
His monotone rasp rang out, overwhelming her resonance.“Can it guide you to what is hidden? What’s forgotten?”
“What..whatever do you mean?” She asks plainly almost shortly. Confused by his inquiry.
“Can it find the Black Cauldron?” he exhales, his patience thinning at such idle impudence.
“Cauldron? What cauldron?” she gripes, her tone raising higher to a near-exaggerated weep as raw rage swathes her throat. “Is that what this is all about? All this…killing and destruction? Murdering my family, pillaging my home for some old cooking pot?! What kind of king-“
Her words choked midway as the undead monarch lunged at her with the nimble speed of an enraged wraith, clamping his one skeletal hand around her neck firmly, dangerously. As his rigid, lithe talons enwrapped around the maiden's warm, soft throat, he felt her fragile pulse throbbing deeply into his withered flesh.
Her delicate heartbeat thrums against his long dead core. He could even feel her hot, rushing blood seeping into his corroded veins.
Thrilling him in a fleetingly momentary bliss. It's all immensely gratifying, and strangely captivating- regardless of it being within the minuscule of measurements.
Pulling her face towards his terrible own, content with her growing terror, his freezingly hollow breath fills her tight lungs as he seethes,
“The only reason why you are still breathing..why your heart still beats inside your chest- is because I find your impertinence…slightly amusing.”
The princess clasps at his vice-like grip. Barely breathing, her face turning an icy hue, when the bright bauble burned into a warning blue that zipped around the king’s horned head manically, attempting to disorient him. It was no use.
But he was intrigued.
He releases her from his clawed hand as she drops down, gasping for air.
Her faithful little ball of golden luminescence glimmers by her cheek consolably.
So it is sentient to a degree. The Horned King thought. He dredges out, “I will only ask once more: can it locate the Black Cauldron?”
As air flooded back into her lungs, the princess rasped, “It..it has a mind of its own! As much as I wanted to, I cannot really control it…I tried.” She doesn’t look at him. Not with him looming over in predatory rule as she hunches over defeatedly.
Her juvenile magic is of no use to him.
He already predicted as much.
But what would be wrathful impatience or harrowing disappointment- another dark thought, a more satisfactory one, slinked onto his mind instead.
“I tried to, really!” she begged, squeezing her eyes shut. Terrified in knowing full well what horrors may come next.
But little Princess Eilonwy didn’t know what exactly the Horned King was contemplating. She didn’t know how his thoughts formed something peculiarly delightful that made the marrow of his bones surge feverishly.
Leaning downwards, The Horned King extends his skeletal hand at her, causing Eilonwy to lock her jaw shut and flinch at his chilling touch. He lightly rubs a thin strand of her soft, blonde hair between his callous fingertips. He imagines it growing longer, luscious, and lovely. He can foresee her small shoulders rounding out; her developing shape forming seamlessly as half a child yet half a woman.
He can even predict her sparkling soulful gaze boring into his own, her pink lips barely parted as he'd behold her bare, supple skin inviting him so earnestly- innocently- amongst faint candlelit shades. Alone. Hidden in his chambers. Atop his bed.
With him, for him, and only him. A writhing waif for his wicked whims.
Somewhere in deeply lowly regions, longtime forgotten, something fathomless inside the cadaverous king twitched ravenously.
Something he didn't know that still held dominion over his better judgment.
He remembers that hunger- that desire. That agonizing ache.
That different kind of gut-churning carnal craving had not been awakened for ages. Such charged lust was solely reserved for absolute power of an unstoppable god. Until now.
Alas- and he already knew this- she was too young. Far too young.
Unrefined. Uncertain. Untouched.
For now.
He’s been waiting eons to achieve his goals, his mission, and ambitions- what’s a few more years until she’s of age to be his own?
His property to possess.
His pet to play with and punish.
His prey to break into his will.
His own pleasure.
After all, once he unleashes the Cauldron-Born, once the world falls into a fragmented husk of ruin- what else would be there to do?
It was one thing to slay a rare hatchling bird- but to cage it? Tear off its wings before they formed? Dismantle its spirit?
Condemning it to a life no longer its own before it could begin? That’s a greater triumph altogether. One for only him to revel in.
Her frail voice trembles, "Please..."
“You may be of no use to me now..” he croons, “…but you will in time.”
The princess's jaw drops, relief yet dread whirling chaotically around her head.
Though he was stoically silent and devoid of any human emotion, she could see the faintest hint of red embers burn excitedly within his eyes.
Her stomach knots up, shivering at the sight.
With a graceful wave of command, he bellows out to his men, “Throw her in the dungeon. Ensure she stays there undisturbed, at all cost. ”