My dear readers, this story is T-rated for a reason. It's about Leck, and since Leck was obviously a very disturbed man, there is some disturbing, graphic, even triggering content in this story. It's probably the darkest thing that I've ever written. I don't want to drive any readers away, but if you're not comfortable reading graphic stuff, then this story might not be for you. Please proceed with caution. (It also contains spoilers for all three books.)

For my own reference: 87th fanfiction, 2nd story for Graceling Realm/Seven Kingdoms.

Of children's tales, of love and innocence, he knows and understands nothing. Nothing.
That they all have a power beyond his own, is a truth that he has never grasped.
– Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

He wasn't always rough with Ashen. Sometimes, he was almost gentle with her. It depended on his mood, and on why he was treating her – whether it was to punish Ashen, or to punish to Thiel, or to satisfy Leck's own needs. Of course, he was always roughest with her when he was forcing Thiel to watch, but then, the next time he treated her, it was private and he was more tender. He wanted to be sure that Ashen never knew quite what to expect from him.

Sometimes he cut Thiel in front of Ashen, but he never cut Ashen in front of Thiel, or in front of anyone else. Nor did he ever cut her face, as he did with all his other patients. He didn't want his queen's beautiful face marred by scars from his knives. And no one else deserved the pleasure of watching Ashen bleed. She had such a pale complexion, especially for a woman from Lienid, where everyone was so golden-toned from the sun. That was one reason why Leck had chosen her for his bride years ago, when she was still practically a girl – her beautiful face and porcelain skin. He knew, even then, how much he would enjoy making her bleed.

And he did enjoy it, certainly, but it was difficult. Ashen had turned out to be far stronger and more willful than Leck had imagined when he first laid eyes on her. Her threshold for pain was quite high, and it seemed to grow higher every time Leck treated her. He had to cut her so deeply – across her belly, and her breasts, and other places that no one else would see – just to make her cry out. But when she did cry out, it was worth it, for there was no sound more soothing to Leck than her screams, and no sight more relaxing than the bright-red rivulets of blood running down her creamy-white skin.

She was willful, but after he found her weakness, controlling her became quite simple. He didn't even need to fog up her mind with his Grace. All that he had to do was threaten their daughter, telling Ashen that if she didn't obey him, he would harm little Bitterblue. Then she became so perfectly cooperative.

Leck often thought of what a shame it was that his daughter with Bellamew had died in infancy. If that girl had lived, then he could use her to manipulate Bellamew in the same way. But she had died, and Leck had to control Bellamew with his Grace alone, blinding her to the pain that he put her through – and it was never as comforting to him when they couldn't feel the pain.

What name had Bellamew given that child? Hava? Such a shame.

He couldn't say exactly why, but recently he'd begun to suspect that Bellamew was hiding something from him. It was almost as if she was in possession of some truth that his mind could never know. It was not unlike the mocking suspicion that he occasionally felt when he treated Ashen. Even when he forced her to strip naked and lie on his table so that he could cut her with his knives, even then, she seemed to possess some strange power that he couldn't identify or destroy.

Oh, it was maddening. When he was a boy in the Dells, he'd told the fire-haired Monster that he was the most powerful of all the Gracelings. And it was true, wasn't it? After all, his Grace had given him the throne of Monsea. How could these two women, without any Grace, cause him to doubt it?

One night, to comfort himself after one of his Gracelings died in a failed experiment, he dragged Ashen out of her bed and down to his rooms. He cut her across her thighs, so deeply that she wept and screamed, so many times that her smooth, milky-white thighs were almost coated in warm, red blood. He slept soundly after he was done with her. There was such comfort in making her bleed. There was such purity in how completely she felt the pain, since he didn't need to use his Grace.

The Monster-woman in the Dells may have escaped from him, but Ashen never would, and there was comfort in that, too. A pale Lienid woman was a rare thing, and Leck prided himself on owning rare, beautiful things. Ashen was just one more thing that he owned. He would make sure that she never forgot that.

But the very next day, a strange thing happened. In the afternoon, he went to the library to ask Death about some manuscript, and Ashen happened to be there. She was sitting in an armchair in a corner of the library with Bitterblue, reading to the girl from a story-book. It pleased Leck to see that his queen looked paler than ever, from losing so much blood last night.

He was just close enough to overhear when Bitterblue interrupted the story to ask, "Mama, may I sit on your lap?" Leck waited, eager to hear how Ashen would decline, but instead she smiled and said, "All right, precious." He watched, with the worst feeling of failure, as Ashen drew the child into her lap, setting her down right on top of her lacerated thighs, as if it didn't hurt her at all.

Leck seethed, furious and confused. Holding the girl like that had to hurt her. It must. He employed the finest Graced healers in all of Monsea in his castle, but even they weren't so skilled that Ashen could already feel no pain at all. And yet she stroked Bitterblue's hair as the girl snuggled against her, and went on reading her the story, and never even flinched. There was a peaceful smile on her face – no trace at all of the broken, bleeding woman that Leck had made cry last night.

Ashen hadn't even noticed him, and yet he felt certain that she was mocking him. He felt certain, again, that she possessed some power that he could never know, some strength that he could never destroy, no matter how much he hurt her or clouded up her mind. The edges of his control were starting to fray...

Then his eye shifted to the child in her lap. Bitterblue. Ashen had given their daughter such an absurd name, and she doted on her at a level that Leck found almost nauseating. A thought ran through his mind – the strange strength that Ashen seemed to have, could it come from Bitterblue? Could the child be the source of it, somehow?

But he dismissed the idea almost immediately. It was impossible. Bitterblue was only... four or five, wasn't she? Yes, she was just a little girl with no Grace, incapable of empowering her mother in any way. She was young – still too young for the things that Leck had planned for her. He intended to train her, to mold her into the perfect queen – but not until she was older. Of course, when he wanted to, Leck could be a very patient man. He would wait, counting his knives, until Bitterblue had reached a useful age. But for now, she was still too small for his notice.

For now, he would go back down to his hospital, experiment on some Gracelings, and do treatments on a few little girls. He enjoyed treating little girls even more than Ashen and Bellamew. They would make him feel better again.