Burn Bright and Flicker Out Chapter 1 and 2

Hey folks! Here's something new. Anyway, this one is about a lady knight who goes to rescue a princess she likes from a dragoness, only to be ensnared and corrupted by the dragoness' will. It's gonna be more mind control adjacent smut so if that's not your thing then be mindful of that. None of the characters are explicitly stated to be trans but its got very trans vibes and that's certainly a pretty obvious reading to make.

Chapter 1

Lady Lucene had come to a crossroads, both literally and figuratively. To her right, the road stretched on and out for miles on end. She could follow that road til she, or her horse collapsed from exhaustion, and continue until she found herself someplace far enough away to make a new life. To the left lay her duty; a duty many told her was suicide. They were not exaggerating. An entire battalion of the king’s men had perished attempting to save his daughter from the mighty dragoness Tyranaxxia, eradicated by her corruptive breath. The princess had been missing for nearly a week, and doubtlessly, the king thought his daughter to be dead. His decision to send the head of Princess Izelle’s royal guard after the dragon alone was an execution, a punishment for failure, in all but proclamation. That was beside the point. Only one question truly mattered: was Princess Izelle worth dying for? The answer came easy; Izelle was her dearest friend, and Lady Lucene would gladly die trying to save—or avenge the missing princess. Jaw set in grim determination and steadfast resolve, Lucene directed her along the path to her left, and toward the blighted lands of Tyranaxxia, Scourge of the Wastes.

Her journey was treacherous. Lady Lucene had known it would from the moment she set off. But foresight alone cannot overcome adversity. The road north, which stretched long into the heart of deep and savage woods, had long since fallen to banditry and wild beasts. Even mere hours into her Journey, Lady Lucene felt eyes on her, watching, waiting. Lucene was used to being watched, a lady knight was always subject to prying eyes, judging eyes, venomous eyes. The dangers of some shrouded wood held no candle to the jagged edges of backroom schemes and courtroom etiquette. Besides, sometimes prying eyes were quite welcome. She had, after all, caught Princess Izelle’s eye. When Lucene was but a squire training under her uncle, she would often look up from the training yard to spy her princess watching with rapt attention from above. Izelle had seemed quite enthralled by the knights and their squires. And even back then, it was clear the princess was especially fascinated by the lone girl among their ranks. Of course, back then Lucene was a nervous and scared girl, struggling to prove herself to her peers, but that only made it all the more exciting, and terrifying to know that not only a member of the royal family, but also the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom had taken an interest in her.

It went without saying that the eyes which watched her now were far less welcome. But in such a grim—and dull—time, Lucene did not think it wrong to dwell on positive memories. Unfortunately, thinking of her princess did little to quell Lucene’s guilt.

Despite the unknown and unfriendly eyes which no doubt watched her from the trees, the first day of Lucene’s journey came to pass without trouble; she had even managed a successful hunt, and dined on fresh roasted venison with stale bread. As she ate her meal by the dim lamplight, inside a small abandoned guard tower, Lucene remembered the first time the princess had spoken to her. It was at a banquet, one which, coincidentally, also had served venison. Her uncle, a member of the royal duke’s guard, had been given permission to seat his squire at the duke’s table. Lucene had been deep in thought, admiring the gorgeous court ladies and their gorgeous dresses  when the princess had confidently marched right past the duke to speak to Lucene directly. She’d been taken by such surprise that she nearly leapt from her seat when the princess suddenly appeared before her, and only managed to squeak out the most mechanical, rehearsed of thanks in reply. It had been the first of many times the princess would seek Lucene out directly for conversation—if one could consider Izelle relentlessly, though not cruelly, teasing the shy squire to be a form of conversation.

Her second day of travel was not as smooth as the first. A small company of bandits had blocked the road, forcing Lucene to travel into a narrow and exposed ravine. Their attack was swift, and efficient, but clearly lacking. One of Lady Lucene’s greatest advantages was how often men underestimated her; she showed them exactly why those who crossed swords with her no longer scoffed at the idea of a lady knight. She was, after all, no stranger to combat. Like many young knights, the onset of war was the crucible which had transformed Lucene from a shy, uncertain squire, to the fierce and determined knight. She had left the royal capitol with her uncle when the Duke’s lands came under threat, and returned a decorated, renowned fighter.

As she treated her wounds, Lady Lucene traced a finger along one of the many scars which marred her body, reminders of battles past. Sometimes she wondered what her life would be like had she made other choices, had she not let her interest in swordplay and wrestling through the mud grow just as strong as her interest in pretty dresses and music. But it was this life, these choices, that war that had turned Lady Lucene into a knight worthy of the princess’ personal guard. The day Izelle chose her for the role was proudest of her entire life. Though, in hindsight, perhaps her failure to keep Princess Izelle out of Tyranaxxia’s clutches suggested Lucene had made the wrong choices after all.

But could she honestly tell herself any other knight would have succeeded where she had failed? Likely they would not have. The real question became then, how many of her peers would do as she did now? How many would willingly march out to face Tyranaxxia alone, no matter how doomed the quest seemed, just in the off chance Princess Izelle really could be rescued? The number was quite small, Lucene imagined. In the end, while Lucene had skill to rival any other knight, Princess Izelle had chosen Lucene because she had seen something others didn’t: profound loneliness and vulnerability. And, through companionship and care, the princess had turned that weakness into a strength, forging a fierce, unwavering bond of mutual trust, loyalty and friendship. Fraught as she was by the guilt of her failure, Lucene knew she was the only one who wouldn’t have given up, her peers would have taken that right path and run. She salvaged what she could from the bodies of her slain opponents, and continued on.

By early evening, Lucene had reached the end of the king’s land, into unclaimed wilderness. The road, already poorly maintained, was little more than a dirt trail at times, but surprisingly, the prying, threatening eyes did not follow her. Perhaps she was closer to Tyranaxxia;s territory than she’d thought. As she traveled, the wilderness grew denser, the flora more vibrant and untamed. Lucene kept her eyes peeled for telltale signs of scorched, ruined lands, but darkness was approaching. The second night she dined on leftover venison and trail rations lifted from her fallen attackers.

Her fitful sleep came to a sudden end at the sound of a deafening roar; Lady Lucene had heard that sound before. For a brief, sleep-delicious moment, she though she might have been back at the palace on that fateful night, when that same roar had ripped her from the realm of dreams and into a harsh, cruel reality. By then, the princess was already gone. Nobody knew how she’d been taken, but that hardly mattered when royalty was missing.

Steeling her nerves, Lady Lucene leapt to her feet, whistled for her horse, and set off at a gallop in the direction of the sound. The canopy above her was far to thick to glimpse Tyranaxxia, but Lady Lucene could hear the beat of her great wings quite clearly. The dragoness was close. She whipped past trees, ducked under hanging vines, leapt over root and stone, but even in an open field, no horse could keep pace with a dragon in flight. When she finally came to a clearing, Lucene caught sight of a lone mountain off in the distance, and flying toward it, a great winged beast, covered in deep green scales.

Fear stabbed at Lady Lucene’s heart; true fear, not the paltry nerves of some green soldier before their first battle. This was the fear one could only feel when confronted with something both truly incomprehensible, and unmistakable greater than oneself. The magnificent terror that was Tyrannaxia could only be matched by her transcendental majesty. It was enough to remind Lucene how foolish it was for humans to consider themselves the masters of their world, instead of a group of feeble, foolish creatures simply permitted to continue existing by their betters. That fear was enough to stop the hearts of even the most resolute; it was nothing compared to Lucene’s devotion. She rode on.

As she approached the mountain, Lady Lucene found the forest surrounding her thinning out, and giving way to lush grassland. What trees remained seemed to naturally guide her toward the mountain looming ever larger. At the foot of a sheer cliff, Lady Lucene glimpsed a doorway carved into the stone. It was far too small for any dragon to fit through, but she had no doubt: this was the mountain Tyranaxxia had flown toward. Surrounding the doorway was a lush garden, brimming with all manner of fruits and vegetables; it was a perplexing sight to see in such a dangerous place. And, most notable of all, a towering figure clad in dark, heavy plate armor stood guard outside the door. Lady Lucene approached cautiously, baffled to see such clear signs of human life so close to where Tyranaxxia doubtlessly nested.

The knight made no indication that he cared in the slightest about Lucene and her approach. He simply stood in place, stock still, his greatsword planted in the earth before him. As she approached, Lucene began to notice the finer details of his armor. His helmet, ornate and heavy, had been styled after a dragon’s head. The fingers on his gauntlets stretched into steel claws. An ornate, shining scale pattern decorated the armor from head to toe. Lady Lucene tensed. She had heard tales of knights who had devoted their entire lives to hunting and slaying dragons. At the same time, other legends often spoke of ruthless, cruel knights who rode into battle on the backs of dragons, slaughtering in their service. Whether this knight fell into either category, or simply styled himself after dragons out of sheer coincidence, Lady Lucene could not say. What she did know, was that she needed to approach the matter with great care, and a ready sword.

Resolute in her quest, Lady Lucene approached. “Greetings,” she called. “I have come to seek the head of the Dragoness Tyranaxxia, Scourge of the Wastes. I have reason to believe her lair is somewhere around this mountain. Do you know where she nests? If our goals align, perhaps we might work together to separate her head from her body.” The knight before her said nothing, did not move, did not seem to even breathe. Lucene felt her hand twitch as she searched for any indication at all of hostility, or friendliness. She ran her tongue her teeth, and considered her options. Frankly, the man before her intimidated the hell out of her. Lady Lucene was tall, strong, and skilled. Her physique rivaled many men, a reality she often felt both pride, and shame over. This man, though, he was inhumanly large; standing a full head taller than Lucene, he had to be over seven feet tall. Perhaps that did not matter, though. Lucene set out to face a dragon, if a fellow knight could stop her, then she would be little more than an annoying insect to a dragon.

After a deep breath, Lucene took a step forward. In a flash, the knight raised his sword, standing on guard at the ready. Unsurprised, but disappointed, Lucene called out to him. “I do not wish to fight you, good sir. I am here to save a princess, captured by the foul she-dragon. Please, if you can help me, I beseech your aid.” Palms up, body language open, Lucene took one last last bold step toward him. His swing missed her throat by inches as she sprung back and drew her sword. With a throaty cry, she charge forward and swung downward with a heaving blow. With uncanny speed, the knight heaved his massive greatsword to effortlessly parry her swing. His follow up seemed slow, far weaker than she would have expected, was it some sort of feint? If so, Lucene danced around it with ease, and while he was off balance, slipped her sword through an opening in his guard. Again, he deflected her blow, this time with the edge of his hilt, his movements were simply that precise. She braced for his counter, only to find his foot sailing straight into her chest. Her mind reeled. How? How could he have moved so quickly and with such force when he was still mid recovering from his past swing. It didn’t matter; she’d failed. Lady Lucene clattered to the ground, ears ringing. Her opponent approached, and she struggled to stand. Before Lucene could find her footing, though, her opponent brought his pommel down upon her helm, and all went dark.

Chapter 2

Lucene dreamt. She dreamt of her past, of her princess, of the nights they would share together. It was strange, she was at once in a liminal dreamspace, surrounded by fleeting fragments and flashes, while simultaneously experiencing each moment as though it were the first time. Something brushed along her mindscape; a presence which she somehow knew was outside her own. It caressed her thoughts tenderly, leafing through her memories and prodding her to spread her mind wide. It lingered, watching intently all the things unfolding around it. An air of consideration, ponderance lingered in the not-air around Lucene as she was laid bare and examined. Just as she felt herself begin to understand something was off, something was wrong about all this, presence coalesced. Like two grasping hands, it plunged into the heart of Lucene’s mind, seized a chosen memory, and dove right in, taking Lucene with it.

* * *

There was only one place which Lady Lucene felt she could truly relax; it was within her princess’ bedchamber, behind closed and locked doors. There, the pressures and expectations of duty and appearances fell away, and the two women could freely express their familiarity and friendship. Just because she could relax, however, did not mean Lady Lucene always would; it never came easily. Out of habit, she stood at rigid attention, just to the side of the doorway, eyes forward. It was very important that she keep her eyes forward; if she did not, Lady Lucene might catch a glimpse of Princess Izelle, who currently stood before her bed, back turned, removing her court clothes. And yes, they were both women, but it felt wrong, lurid, vulgar to look. Lady Lucene knew well the sort of feelings such a sight would stir in her. She had caught many a lord, mostly old and lecherous men, staring longingly at her princess. The idea that she might be anything like them made Lady Lucene nauseous.

Lost in thought as she was, Lady Lucene did not even notice her princess finish changing into her night clothes until Princess Izelle softly called to her. “Lucene, it’s safe to look now. It always was,” she said, a musical giggle ringing in her voice. Lucene nodded, and turned to face her friend. She wore a lovely, flowing purple nightgown which hugged her lovely body nicely, highlighting gorgeous femininity while casting an air of faux-innocence about her. And it was faux-innocence, behind closed doors Izelle was nothing at all like the prim and proper princess she presented to the court.

“I am sorry, my princess,” Lucene replied, allowing her stiff shoulders to slacken ever so slightly. Izelle rolled her eyes and crossed the room, laying a warm hand on her cheek.

“Was it bad, today?” she asked. “Those foreign dignitaries, I saw them approach you. They were murmuring under their breath as they left.”

Lucene stiffened all over again, her mouth tightening. “It was nothing. They just hadn't ever seen a lady knight before. They asked if a woman truly could fit into armor so large, and then they… asked if I shared a bed with my comrades.”

It only took a moment, and the princess’ entire demeanor changed. She knit her eyebrows, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed; her fist clenched and unclenched as she took a slow breath then looked up to meet Lady Luence’s gaze. “I can’t fucking—no—that’s it. Armor off. Now.”

At six foot three inches, Lady Lucene towered over most men. There were few she could not intimidate with the right look or pose. And yet, Princess Izelle, tiny five foot four waif of a thing, had her pinned with her back against a wall, nearly choking on her words. “Wha—bu—n—you can’t just. We’re not,” she sputtered.

Just a single quirk of a well manicured eyebrow, and her protest died in her throat. “Did you intend to sleep in your armor?”

“Well, no, but so long as I am awake, I am on duty, princess. I had not intended on removing my armor until I retired to my chambers for the evening,” Lucene replied.

A breathy chuckle disrupted the silence which followed, and Princess Izelle gave Lucene a sharp poke to the chest. “You know as well as I do how poorly that excuse holds. Regardless, you’re staying the night here.”

Sighing, Lucene shook her head. “Princess, we just did this a few days ago, we cannot do it again.”

“You intend to deny your princess her wishes?” Izelle asked.  “Is it not the case that as the head of my royal guard, your duties extend beyond simply my protection, and include providing me council, companionship and any other needs I might have within reason?”

Despite herself, Lucene could not fight the playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I simply think what you are asking falls outside the realm of ‘within reason.’ Besides, is it not the case that my duty to protect you takes precedence above all others?”

“So you admit that all the other nights we have indulged ourselves count as dereliction of duty?”

Now it was Lucene’s turn to roll her eyes. “I suppose you are right, I am guilty.”

Satisfied, Princess Izelle stepped back and crossed her arms, tapping her foot as she stared up at her night. “In that case, unless you want me to turn you in, you’ll do as I say and remove your armor so we can enjoy ourselves, will you not?”

Lucene nodded, sharing Izelle’s good natured smirk. “Well when you put it that way, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Finally relenting, Lucene gave her princess what she wanted.

Freshly washed and unencumbered, Lucene lay still as she could atop Izelle’s bed while the princess ran delicate brush strokes over her cheeks. Izelle’s face was fixed in a look of intense concentration, her eyes locked upon her canvass. For the upteenth time, Lucene thanked every last goddess she could remember for the makeup which at least somewhat masked her deep blush. Even so, keeping still under such an intense, focused gaze from such a lovely face proved impossible. An errant squirm caused gentle bristles to tickle Lucene’s nose, and, try she may, she couldn’t hold back a sneeze.

An amused giggle rang musically from Izelle’s throat, and Lucene found herself quite glad that she’d already turned away to sneeze. It would be hard not to look upon such a beautiful woman with anything but adoration after that. “Sorry,” Lucene chuckled. “Ticklish.”

“That’s alright, I’m about done anyway. Want to see?” Izelle plucked a pearl-handled hand mirror from her bedside table and passed it to Lucene. She took a moment to admire her princess’ work. The makeup was subtle, expertly applied, and, by this point, quite familiar. Lucene knew this look, she’d seen it many times; that didn’t change her appreciation. It was comfortable. “You really are gorgeous, Lucene.”

A low chuckle rumbled in her belly. “Yeah, I know.” Her eyes darted from her reflection to Izelle. “Thanks for taking the time to remind me.”

“Of course,” Izelle replied. She leaned toward Lucene, crawling forward til the two were side by side and face to face. Her fingers gently traced Lucene’s body, along strong, taut muscles encased in soft, regal silks. They were certainly a step up from the coarse cotton shirt and trousers Lucene wore under her armor. Their eyes locked, and Izelle inched closer, close enough that Lucene could feel her breath hot against her cheeks. “My dashing knight,” she purred, fingers tracing the curve of Lucene’s hip. Without warning, she pressed her lips to Lucene’s in a chaste kiss. It was hardly their first, and ladies of the court sharing a quick kiss among friends was far from unheard of, but Izelle was the princess, and Lucene could never keep herself from melting at the feeling of Izelle’s soft skin against hers. She felt a familiar stirring in her loins, and prayed Izelle would not notice the way Lucene’s eyes lingered on the pout of her lips, or the curve of her breasts.

Forcing herself to focus on literally anything but the feelings which bubbled up inside her, Lucene averted her gaze, she clenched and unclenched her fist, mentally running through sword drills in her mind. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand rest on her inner thigh. Lucene gasped, and looked back to her princess. Something had changed about the girl. A look twinkled in her eye, intense, desperate, urgent. Her face was flush with heat, her lips parted, breath heaving in her chest.

“There is so much I wish to give you, my brave knight” she whispered. Izelle’s free hand rose to her shoulder, slipping off the strap of her nightshirt, causing it to fall away and reveal the creamy, milky flesh of her breast. It was impossible to look anywhere else. “You wish to touch me, don’t you?” Something was different about Izelle’s voice. It lacked its usual playful, but refined lilt. There was a neediness to it, a whiny, desperate pleading that begged Lucene to seize Izelle by the shoulders, tear off her clothes and take the prize within. And oh, how desperately she wanted to do just that. To let instinct take over and claim her hero’s reward.

The thought struck Lucene; she recoiled at the realization of what she’d just imagined herself doing. It had come so unbidden, so inelegant. How could she ever think of her treasured friend in such uncouth terms? Before she had a chance to consider that line of thought any further, Lucene found her attention called back to her bedmate as the girl before her gripped Lucene with her thighs, and pulled the young knight into another kiss. This, however, was not one of chaste, shy, soft kisses Lucene had grown used to. Their lips crashed together, open mouth meeting open mouth. Reflexively, Lucene grasped the girl beneath her by the shoulders, pressing her down into the bed and forcing her tongue into her mouth.

An irresistible urge built within her. The urge to take, to use, to satisfy all of her most carnal desires. Lucene’s hand found the soft, yielding flesh of her partner’s breast, and with greedy abandon she squeezed and kneaded, rolling her thumb over the girl’s nipple as the pair began to rock into one another. Hunger burning in her loins, Lucene grabbed the delicate, silken fabric shielding her prize with both hands and tore. She hardly heard the tearing sound over the chorus of wanton moans above her as she buried her face into soft, creamy flesh. Her body surged with need for more, always more. Just as before, Lucene tore away the fabric covering her conquests’ lower half, exposing a glistening, ready sex. She did not need to be told what to do next.

Her fingers slid easily into the girls slit, and Lucene ground her own sex into her conquests’ thigh. All around her, eager, lustful maidens stroked and fawned over her, praying for an ounce of her attention, desperately wishing that they would be chosen next. And they would; Lucene would have all of them. Each and every last girl was there for her. Her champion’s reward, the prize for serving her queen well. Thrusting and grinding her whole body against the sweet little bed girl before her, Lucene coaxed a delightful tune of pleasure and submission from between those soft, pillowy lips, parted in a breathless expression of hedonistic want. Overtaken by the need to claim those lips as her own once more, Lucene grasped the girl by the chin and forced her to look upon her champion. Their eyes met, and Lucene froze. She had never seen this face before.

Suddenly, her stupor was broken. This girl was a stranger. Who was she? What had happened? Where had Princess Izelle gone. The mere mention of that name in her mind lit a fire in Lucene’s mind, one which burned away the haze of primal lust. This was wrong, all of this was wrong. She knew this memory, it did not go this way. More importantly, her princess was in danger. Izelle had been taken and she needed rescuing. She had been tracking the dragoness and then been hit over the head and—with a start, Lucene bolted upright and into befuddled, bewildered consciousness.

A chorus of delighted gasps, coos, giggles, and the splashing of warm water erupted around Lucene as she whirled about, in a wide-eyed panic. Tense and panting, she took in her surroundings. She found herself in a massive, opulent hall, seated within a tub the size of a small pond, made from polished obsidian and opal, the water inside was warm and floral scented. A steady stream of vapor rose from the surface, which was decorated with water-lillies, aquatic irises and a smattering of small, flowering trees. Candles and incense burned all around her, filling the dazzling, well lit room with a thick, heavy scent which made her head swim and vision blur. Lucene blinked hard, and shook her head, then opened her eyes once more. All around her were gorgeous women of all shapes and sizes, dressed in little-to-no clothing. They gazed up at her, smiling with wide-eyed infatuation and awe.

A moment of awkward silence followed as she looked to each of them in turn, trying to understand what the fuck was going on, before deciding she was wasting her time and, with a start, stood suddenly. Another chorus of gasps and giggles came as she stood, revealing her nude form. They were accompanied by a yelp, which rang out behind her; Lucene realized only once it was too late that one of the girls had been actively scrubbing her back with a washcloth. She considered mumbling an apology, but was frankly at her wits end and far too suspicious of everyone and everything around her to bother with courtesies. Figuring out what the hell happened could come later, Lucene had more important things to worry about. She waded through the thigh-deep water, doing her best to ignore the constant din of giggles, whispers and sounds of women generally fawning over her as she trekked through the massive tub, toward the edge and the continuation of her quest.

Just as she was about to haul herself onto the spotless polished tile floor below, one of the girls, a diminutive little waif with dark eyes and dark hair stepped in front of her. “Wait!” she cried, her voice edged with desperation and want. “You can’t leave. Mistress commanded us to tend to your needs, to give you a champion’s welcome. Don’t you want us to please you, miss? Such a brave, strong knight, you deserve all the attention and affection we can give you. Let us satisfy you, miss, use us, please?”

Lucene narrowed her eyes; a low growl rumbled in her throat. “I don’t know who your ‘Mistress’ is or what she wants with me, but I don’t care about her or her ‘champion’s welcome.’ I have a duty to fulfill, and a princess to save.” Despite her annoyance, Lucene could not bring herself to be truly cruel to an apparently innocent stranger, as such, she was sure to only gently push past the girl. She climbed from the tub, dripping water onto the surprisingly warm tile, and took stock of her situation. A few problems presented themselves immediately. Chief among them being Lucene was naked and unarmed, she had no idea where she was, and had presumably been brought here by the same person who had overpowered her and knocked her unconscious. If that entire fight had been some bizarre test, and this was supposed to be her ‘reward’ for passing it, she had neither the time, nor interest in these sorts of games. She whirled around, to face the girls. “Where am I? Where is my equipment? I have no time for these games.”

The same girl who had addressed her before ran to the edge of the tub, and leaned over the edge as she gazed longingly out at Lucene. “We don’t know, miss. Mistress didn’t say, she just told us to make you feel welcome.”

Lucene groaned, and sighed, perhaps she should at least see if she could learn anything about the situation she’d found herself in before pressing on. “Who is your Mistress? I demand an audience with her.”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, miss! Mistress had already planned on coming to visit you soon. She says you should be familiar with her. Most humans know her as the dragoness Tyranaxxia.”

Lucene felt her whole body lock up in fear. Had she already lost? Before she even had a chance to consider that question, the whole room shook as a gust of wind rushed through the room and the sound of beating wings drew near.