Chapter Text
Narinder was certain that he had died.
The pressure that had welled inside of his head had left him yearning for his skull to burst like a party favor. Though his mouth had been purified of its dense iron pool, and the sharp ring in his ears had finally silenced, he was not convinced that these had been mercies granted by death.
His newfound headache served as an unwelcomed indicator that he once again resided inside of a mortal form. When Narinder opened his eyes, the world around him held no definitive shapes. Had he not already been taking steady breaths, he could’ve been fooled into thinking that he had awoken underwater.
With his thoughts and actions not quite in sync, the simple act of sitting up proved troublesome. He found himself resting in a bed of dirt, surrounded by a sparse crowd of onlookers adorned in distorted red garbs.
Before he could gather the specifics of his situation, a single figure broke free from the formation, and came sprinting in his direction.
They came to a halt and knelt just a short distance away from him.
"Narinder?"
Though the question had come across as gentle and inquisitive, it ignited visceral fury within the fallen God.
Ignoring the numbness in his legs, Narinder rose swiftly from the ground, prompting the one in front of him to do the very same.
Operating on instinct, his claws unsheathed, and he darted forward with intent to maim.
“Wait-!”
Their command went unheeded, and in what seemed like a split second, the feline’s throat was captured in a familiar grip. He naturally brought both hands up in an attempt to pry off the offender, but his efforts were in vain.
“Seriously?” The other asked, as if baffled by his behavior.
That was the last thing Narinder heard before losing all contact with the ground. He was flipped around effortlessly in the air, as if he weighed nothing at all. His body was bound tight by the same entity that had a brief hold on his neck.
He recognized the cold touch as a product of the crown that had been stolen from him.
“You’re leaving me with only a few options, here..”
Just as his senses finally began to work in tandem, he was dropped abruptly onto his feet. He was then forced to bow forward, and his head and arms were locked into wooden boards.
Another surge of rage overtook him, and he struggled wildly against his new restraints. Neither his head, nor fists, would retract through the cavities no matter how hard he pulled.
The results of his defiance quickly came in the form of raw skin and splinters.
“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?" He bellowed, the reality of his situation striking like a mocking whip. “WHY HAVE YOU RESCINDED YOUR JUDGMENT? DO YOU FIND ENTERTAINMENT IN MY SUFFERING?”
The Lamb stood a healthy distance away from their former God, unabashedly watching his struggle against the sullied pillory.
“This is.. slightly cathartic, in a way.” They admitted, sounding not entirely committed to that answer. “I didn’t expect a seamless transition, but I didn’t want to station you here on your first day. You’ve brought this upon yourself with that arrogant display.”
“LISTEN WELL, LAMB. The very SECOND I escape these binds, your time playing deity is FINISHED.” He snarled, claws digging deep into the boards.
“I know. That’s precisely why I’m taking this precaution.” They replied, nonchalant to his emotions. “Please try not to struggle too much, Narinder. Lesions will only make the rest of your evening more unpleasant.”
Hearing his name from the Lamb’s lips only further fueled his defiance.
“Do NOT address me in that way, vile creature.”
“It’s no longer appropriate for me to use your old title.” The lamb countered, studying him with interest. “Shamura confirmed this to be your original name. I think it’s only proper to disinter it for your new mortal life.”
“Shut the FUCK up. I cannot STAND your yammering.”
The woolen God watched for a while as the pillory grew thoroughly stained with a rich crimson.
“You’re wearing yourself out to no benefit. Even if you were able to force your way to freedom, I’ve already got another pillory waiting. I could produce even a thousand more, if that became necessary.”
When the feline began to make use of all of his claws, the Lamb resorted to using the crown to keep his feet planted securely on the ground.
The former God continued to resist all the same, his thoughts a rapid fire of murderous intent.
With seemingly nowhere else to be, the deity remained where they were, allowing the feline to burn through his energy reserves over a course of several hours.
Though his fury never waned, his body inevitably began to approach its limit.
Skin flayed and breathing haggard, Narinder's head ultimately dropped in exasperated submission to his circumstances.
“I know you’re exhausted, Narinder.. Grant yourself some kindness, and take a break.”
“Fuck you.” He seethed quietly.
The new God oversaw their former one’s futile rebellion until its unremarkable end. When he could barely manage to hold himself up, his legs were finally released from the crown's hold.
The lamb lingered nearby for a short while more before granting him a half hour of solitude. Though it provided ample opportunity to escape, Narinder had no fight left in him to resist.
When the other eventually returned, they brought with them a bowl and a spoon.
“..Narinder.” They prompted, coming over to stand much closer to him than before. “I know food must be the very last thing on your mind, but your basic necessities still need tending to. I can't leave you unfed when you’re famished.”
“Leave me be, damned lamb.”
They clicked their tongue, seemingly prepared for the difficulty of this task.
“Let me be clear: you have only two options right now. Either you can cooperate and eat at a pace that’s comfortable for you, or I can force this soup down your throat. I’m not leaving again until at least half of this bowl is empty.”
They stirred the contents of the bowl while they waited for an answer.
It came as no surprise when Narinder never provided one.
The Lamb took a spoonful of soup and hovered it near his face as an offering.
His thoughts were again plagued with venomous words, but this time he chose to keep his mouth shut.
“Alright.” They stated, as if coming to a decision. “Just remember- you had a choice.”
A pair of shadowy hands erupted from the crown, once again ensnaring their previous master. One took a hold of Narinder’s head, and the other slipped its fingers between his lips to force them apart.
“Don’t even entertain kicking me. I’ll restrain your legs again if I must.”
The lamb watched as he struggled against his new layer of binds, failing to even so much as move his jaw. They easily deposited the contents of the spoon into his mouth, and the crown forced it shut.
The pair proceeded to sit there for a while more, not quite getting anywhere. Each time the woolen God went for a second round, Narinder had yet to swallow the first.
“Delay too long, or try to spit, I will force every spoonful down for you.”
The feline continued to stubbornly harbor the liquid in his mouth.
The other frowned, and shook their head insistently.
“Why do you assume that I’m playing some sort of game? Watch.” They said, dipping the spoon back into the bowl and bringing it up to their own lips.
Without hesitation, they swallowed the soup, and looked at him expectantly.
“There’s nothing exceptional about it. I just need you to eat.”
Narinder began to choke shortly thereafter as his strained throat attempted to accept the liquid. He recoiled again, and the hand that had sealed his mouth lifted in reward.
The lamb waited until his coughing settled before refilling the spoon.
“Thank you. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I’m gone.”
He remained difficult for a few minutes, but the process became increasingly easier.
The emptier the bowl got, the slower the feline’s movements grew.
The lamb only stopped feeding when his legs began to buckle underneath him. By that point, the dish was nearly empty, and they were certain that he had taken enough.
Narinder was freed from all influence of the crown, and the woolen God abandoned the bowl on the ground beside themself. They walked around the pillory and approached it from the other side, undoing the locks to release the unsteady feline from his captivity.
Wrapping their arms around their former God’s torso, they gently guided him to lay back in the grass. They knelt down next to him, scrutinizing his limp form with barely disguised pity.
Narinder stared back up at the Lamb, barely able to piece together a coherent thought.
“I know not what I was expecting.” They muttered, using a gentle touch to turn his head and expose shredded skin. “My judgment remains clouded by wishful thinking..”
The feline's lips moved as if he meant to say something, but no sound came forth.
The deity waited patiently nearby until he finally slipped into unconsciousness.
-
When Narinder eventually roused again, he found himself standing alone. The barrier of matured trees surrounding the area proved that he was not in the same location as he was before.
Neither his neck nor wrists stung anymore, but the contents of his stomach sat like a rock. He grimaced, finding with each passing minute the desire to vomit growing stronger.
The feline experimentally shifted his stance, feeling an unusual weight burdening his legs. He attempted to bring them together, but was halted by tensions that he couldn’t break.
Though he was still slightly hunched over, Narinder was standing noticeably straighter than before. The new pillory he had been bound to was free of blood, and built taller than the last.
Without the lamb present, he found it easier to maintain his composure and digest his current situation. The clinks that accompanied his movements suggested that he had been bound with an added layer of metallic cuffs and chains.
He understood that an act of rebellion in this state would likely be just as fruitless.
He sat for a while in uneasy silence, thoughts bouncing between murderous intent and irritated rumination. With the authority that his crown held, carefully constructed plans could be unearthed with ease.
If he wanted to make any move with significant results, he had to act again out of impulse.
Narinder, however, wouldn’t be granted such an opportunity anytime soon.
Having no sense of date or time, the feline felt as though he had stood under the sun for an eternity. During that time, he lost the contents of his stomach, and grew increasingly lightheaded from the heat.
He almost thought he had been hearing things when the faint jingle of a bell reached his ears. When he lifted his head, he saw that the woolen God was indeed on their way back, carrying with them a loaded tray.
Irritable and sweaty, Narinder lowered his head once more, not interested in engaging with them.
“Forgive me for the long absence. I intended on stopping by this afternoon, but other matters needed my attention.”
When they reached the pillory, they set the tray carefully onto the ground. Without warning, a single shadowy appendage slipped from the crown and applied pressure to the underside of Narinder’s jaw.
His head rose again, this time not by his own volition. The lamb grabbed a moistened hand towel from the tray, and walked up to him.
“Allow me to clean you up a little.” They said, showing him the folded cloth.
The fingertips of the shadowed hand narrowed and sharpened into claws. They pressed lightly into his flesh, daring him to make a wrong move.
“Don’t try to bite me.”
The former God tensed slightly, but remained still. He watched as the lamb worked at his face, mindfully wiping away all traces of vomit from his fur.
Afterward, they took some time to also wipe down the pillory, and any spoiled spots on the ground.
Once they stepped out of his range and returned to the tray, the claws of the red crown morphed back into smooth black fingertips.
They retrieved a glass from their supply, and stood again to present it to the other.
“Please, drink some water. I know it was hot today.”
Narinder chose not to respond, despite the respite of water being much needed.
The lamb stood idly for a couple of minutes before retracting their offer.
“..That’s fine, you don’t need to. This soup should serve as adequate hydration.”
As the lamb turned again to switch out the cup for the bowl, they scoffed softly.
“No, it’s not poisoned. Technically, neither was the last.”
They stood again and watched him carefully, listening to unspoken criticisms.
“Tell me, would you have taken kindly to me tending to your wounds? A sedative seemed appropriate at the time.” They replied indifferently. “This is a simple broth prepared to satisfy thirst and hunger, only. I’ve no reason to replicate the one from yesterday.”
The feline scanned over the inside of the dish, finding only brown broth with bits of chopped vegetables marinating within.
It was massively unappealing to his senses, even with how hungry he was.
“Regardless of any reservations you may hold, understand that you must eat today. Will you cooperate this time, or do I need to force feed you again?”
A patient hand slowly stirred the contents of the bowl with a spoon.
The former God found their illusion of choice to be tedious, yet he could not bring his lips to form the words that they so clearly wanted to hear.
After a long period of silence, Narinder relinquished another unspoken statement and slightly opened his mouth.
The other easily followed, providing him with spoonful after spoonful.
Though he made it a point to maintain an air of detachment, being tended to in this way left him nothing less than mortified.
“I’m sorry it’s not to your liking. I promise that you’ll be served better meals when you can be trusted to eat with your own hands.” The lamb said, smiling almost apologetically to him.
Like their previous session, the process took a while, but the pair continued until the bowl was nearly empty. Once finished, the lamb returned the dish back to its place, and stood again with the tray in their hands.
“Starting tomorrow, you can expect to see me at least twice a day. I don’t foresee you leaving the pillory anytime soon, so I’m going to try and establish a schedule that works best for both of us in the meantime.”
Quickly recognizing that Narinder had no intention of responding, they turned away from him entirely.
“Try to have a good evening, Narinder. I’ll see you again in the morning.”
He waited until he was sure that the temporary bearer of his crown had left before allowing full thoughts to form again. It only now dawned on him that he had no idea what the lamb’s intentions were with him.
If this form of captivity wasn’t meant to be permanent, what would come after?