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Sharing a Fate	By : maderine Category: 1 through F > Dragonheart Views: 5690 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonheart, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sharing a Fate
- 1
Disclaimer: "Dragonheart" is the property of Charles Edward Pogue, Rob Cohen, and probably a bunch more other people. No offence in writing this is meant to David Thewlis aka. Einon, who, by all accounts, is a lovely person...
Sharing a Fate

Kara sat, slumped on the cold stone floor of her cell, her fists clenching and unclenching in the rough wool of her gown. The heavy manacles and ns ans allowed that much, but they were not long enough to allow her to reach the door even were it to be, by some miracle unbarred and unguarded. Her knife had been taken from her, pried from her fingers by the king himself when it had failed to find his heart.

She had flung herself upon him, trusting in no more than her own desperation to destroy the one who had killed her father. The ease with which Einon had thrown her off had been frightening. He had caught her before she ever had a chance, and pinned her to the high table, the weight of his body pressing her into the board and immobilizing her totally. He had taunted her with her failure. "First you begged mercy for your father's fate, then you tried to avenge it. Now, you'll share it," he had said. Furious and unable to struggle, she had done the only thing she could; she had defied him. "In your kingdom, Einon, there are worse fates than death." And the smile he had given her then had been chilling.

"I'll think one up for you."

How she wished now that she had said nothing. What fate now awaited her? With every hour that passed she imagined new and terrifying ordeals. What horrors could a mind like Einon's conceive of, given the time?

At the sound of the bar sliding from the door, Kara stumbled to her feet. She would not allow the guards to see her cowering, hopeless and frightened on the floor so that they could report it back to Einon. But it was not a guard who now stood in the doorway of her little cell. It was the king.

Slowly, lazily, he came down the steps towards her, stopping only a few feet from her. He titled his head thoughtfully, his eyes moving over every part of her as if he were somehow trying to reconstruct her in his mind. The cool detachment of his gaze, the utter unconcern with which he regarded her infuriated her so that all the fear and uncertainty of the past hours ran out of her to be replaced by a biting, spitting rage. She threw herself at him like a wild animal clawing for his eyes, but the chains pulled her short just out of reach of him so that she could only stare with hatred at him, her arms stretched painfully behind her back.

That mocking half-smile that seemed never to completely leave his face showed itself again, and he pulled what she recognized as her own knife from his belt. "I remember you now," he said, coming almost face to face with her. Against her will, she shrank back.

"I remember you. Your hair� like fire." With one hand, he pulled open his embroidered shirt, and with the hilt of her knife, he traced a large and ugly scar that marred his smooth chest right over his heart. "You gave me this scar, didn't you?"

Kara turned her face away from it, and away from the memory of the boy she'd seen bleed on the battlefield, so that the next was murmured against her ear.

The forked hilt of the knife came up under her chin, and forced her to meet his gaze. "I. Owe. You," he said.

He was too close, so close she could barely breathe. She expected the knife to plunge into her belly at any moment, to be left to die a slow and painful death in the dark and the damp, but the strike didn't come. Einon stepped away from her, giving her his back, clearly showing her just how little a threat he thought her. For the space of a few breaths, Kara was relieved before she saw him pause in the doorway, heard him say to one of the guards in the hall, "Make her ready."
* * * * *

They stripped her, left her in nothing but her thin linen shift and took her from her cell but it was not - as she imagined - to her execution or to some deeper, darker prison that they took her, but up into the relative warmth and light of the upper floors.

They passed no one. The guards did not tell her where she was being taken, and she knew she would get no answer if she asked, so she didn't, not even when they shoved her into a strange room, and barred the door behind her.

So, it was to be another cell, was it? At least this new gaol seemed more agreeable. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, warming the stones of the floor under her bare feet, and lighting the room with a golden glow, though the corners remained in shadow where the firelight could not reach. Though there were no rugs on the floor, rich tapestries covered the walls to cut the chill of the stone. Kara had never been in such a room, one so comfortable and luxurious - especially when compared with the cold, dank dungeon from which she had just come. Her mind reeled. Why should Einon give such comfort to a woman who had tried to kill him, not once, but twice?
All at once, like some devil conjured by her thoughts, she heard his voice behind her. "Comfortable, are you?"
She whirled around. Opposite the hearth, on the very edge of the firelight, the king, dressed only in his undertunic reclined on a couch, his long, bare legs stretched out casually before him. Kara's wild eyes took in the unlit torches in their brackets about the room, Einon's state of undress (and her own), and - her stomach clenched - the large bed with its many coverlets that stood against the far wall.
He had intended this. He had intended tht she let her guard down, intended that she not notice him waiting so quietly in the dim light, not before the moment of his choosing. And he intended�
Kara wanted nothing more than to run for the door, to pound on it and scream until she went hoarse or someone came for her, but the door was barred, no one would come, and she refused to make a fool of herself before Einon.
The king rose, and despite herself, she flinched. "Look at you," he said, stalking towards her like a hunting cat. "As skittish as a doe. Not so brave without your fangs, are you?" he murmured, and she saw that he was fingering her knife. Slowly, he traced its point across her cheek, down her throat, and between her breasts so that she dared not move. At every breath, the knife pricked her sternum. It would have taken so little effort for him to press it into her flesh, and yet he didn't.
Without lowering the knife, Einon stepped into her so that she could feel the heat of his body through her shift. Despite that warmth, she shivered as the long fingers of his free hand followed the path of the blade. Then, all at once, the arm holding the knife snaked around her, pulling her body against his, and his mouth was on hers.

For one shocked moment, Kara remained still, but then the arm not pinned by his came up. She struck at his chest with her fist, but he ignored her, only holding her all the tighter until, gathering her wits about her, she bit him hard.
Einon wrenched his head away from her, and for a moment there was fury in his eyes, but then he drew back a little, giving her an appraising look. He licked a spot of blood from his lower lip. "So you do have teeth after all," he said, and Kara fought with renewed vigour at the casual cruelty of that remark.
Einon laughed as she struggled against him, as if it were all some grand joke to him. He didn't bring the knife up, though he could have done it at any time. He held it just out of her reach when she grabbed for it. She didn't realize that he was leading her until his grip suddenly became fierce again, and he tripped her onto the wide bed. As she had been at the high table, she found herself once again pinned beneath his greater weight. Oh, but this was different. Where then she had felt only anger at being so easily thwarted, now she was very aware of the soft mattress under her back, the press of his hips, and of the slide of his bare leg between hers. A thrill of fear coursed through her.
Kara bucked against him, trying to throw him off, but she could not overcome both the strength of his arms and the full weight of his body crushing her into the bed. He pressed down onto her, and her heart fluttered in panic as she felt the unmistakable heat of his erection against her thigh. "Please�" she heard herself say, and hated the frightened, pleading tone. Don't do this. Don't do this, was all she could think.
"You�re so beautiful," Einon whispered, "like a wild animal waiting for the hand that can break her." One of his hands tangled in her hair, forcing her head back so that he could kiss her throat. The other went to the laces of her shift, pulling them loose and exposing the tops of her breasts. His hand slid into the open bodice, caressing her breasts, then, glutted with touch, it pushed cloth aside, and lips and tongue replaced fingers.
Kara bore Einon's touch in silence, staring at a point over his bowed head. All the while, she was thinking furiously. His hands were on her now. He no longer held the knife. If she could somehow get it, then she might yet be able to do what she had come here to do. She needed only one moment of distraction, one moment of weakness. For the chance to avenge her father, she told herself, she could bear anything.
Nevertheless, she tensed when Einon grabbed the hem of her shift. When he shoved it up to her waist, she expected that he would take her then, and she steeled herself for it, but he didn't. His slender fingers trailed up her thigh, over her hip. They insinuated themselves under her clothing, barely brushing her ribs, and the curve of one breast before his palm smoothed back down over her belly.
She held her breath, waiting for the touch that she knew must be coming. Under any other circumstances, with any other person, she could have appreciated the finesse with which he prolonged her anticipation, but from Einon, it was just one more spiteful game.
She bit her lip when two of his long fingers finally slid inside her. Not finding what he had obviously expected to, Einon leered at her. "Well, well, what a surprise." To her horror, Kara felt herself flush in shame, and yet she was savagely pleased to be able to deny him something, even if it was only her maidenhead.
"Well, it would seem that you've already been broken in, my wild thing, so I've no need to coax you."
Those words and the grip of his hand on her hip were her only warning, and then he was inside her. She gasped when he entered her, unable to remain totally silent, but the sound was covered by Einon's own deep groan.. Kara grit her teeth as he began to move. With every thrust of his hips that drove the breath from her unwilling body, she thought of plunging her knife into Einon's chest, that same chest that was pressed against her own. The rough linen of his undertunic scratched against her exposed breasts, but it was far preferable to the feeling of his bare skin on hers. Her legs seemed to arrange themselves automatically around him, and it shocked and revolted her the way his body seemed to fit so perfectly in the cradle of her spread thighs as if it were the most natural place in the world for him to be. She felt betrayed by her own body, by the ease with which it accepted the man she hated, so she fed that anger into new determination.

One of his hands held her hip so that she could not slide away from him. The other was flat on the bed, taking some of his weight off of her. Both of hers were free. One of these she lifted and threaded into his hair. For a brief moment, Einon stilled, giving her a searching look, and Kara returned his gaze with what she hoped was a suitably seductive eye. When he pushed into her again, she tipped back her head in feigned pleasure, and there! She saw it. The knife lay forgotten amid the rumpled coverlets a little above and to the right of her on the bed. As Einon fell, guided by her hand in his hair, to kissing her shoulder, she flailed for the knife with her free hand.

It would be over soon, now. Einon's rhythm was hard and fast, becoming erratic as he neared his limit. He gripped her hip with bruising force, trying to urge her to meet his thrusts. His every breath was a gasp against her shoulder, and Kara moved with him as best she could, grimly determined to finish it, but after only a few moments, he grabbed her and held her still. He moaned low in his throat, shoving in as deeply as he could, and she felt him finally reach his climax, spilling himself inside her with a few more deep and deliberate thrusts. She barely registered it for her fingers had at last closed around the hilt of the knife.

Einon collapsed bonelessly against her, and the distant part of her that noted that he had shifted mostly off of her so as not to force her to take his weight could almost dimly approve were his sudden seeming concern for her comfort not completely ludicrous given the situation. Thankfully, he did not attempt to kiss her again, but he lay next to her, burying his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of it while his breathing slowed.

It was now. It was now or never. When Einon raised himself, Kara struck. The angle made her awkward, but she felt the blade bite flesh. Surprised, Einon stumbled back and hit the nearby wall. Scrambling up with the knife held before her, Kara was pleased to see blood blossoming on the shoulder of his undertunic. Her pleasure evaporated in the next moment, however, when Einon, checking the wound, gave her a wry smile. "Next time, stab more flesh, less cloth," he advised, pushing away from the wall and coming towards her again.

"I'll pierce your heart!" Kara cried, lunging for him with the knife held high, but as before, he caught her easily, tumbling her onto the bed again. But this time, contrary to her expectation, he moved off of her, allowing her to sit up. "You already did," he said so softly that she knew he wasn't referring to the scar she'd given him. "A very special heart, like no other," he added.

"A black, withered thing without pity," she spat, refusing to look at him, afraid of what she might see.

"Then teach me," he said, turning her face towards his. "Pity me. I'll give you everything... even power." She didn't like the look in his eyes, the one that held her like a precious jewel or a rare flower under glass to be kept and coveted.

"You're so beautiful," he said in an almost awed tone, then his mouth was on hers again, and after everything else, she couldn't bear it. This time, he let her push him away.

"Even power," he said, rising from the bed and going to where a richly embroidered robe was draped over the back of a chair. "Even a throne."

Kara was silent, and Einon pulled on the robe, hiding the body that she now knew better than she wanted to. When he left the room, she heard the heavy bar fall into place again behind him.

She remained sitting on his bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, feeling small and hollow.
For the longest time, she did not move. No one came, and she heard no movement in the hall outside. At one point, she did hear footsteps, and she looked up half in fear that it might be the king returning, but it was only a servant who returned her dress to her and would not answer her questions or meet her eyes. So Kara wrapped herself again in the warm wool of her dress, but it did little to dispel the chill that came more from within her than from the impenetrable stone walls all about her.
She looked out of the casement, and saw the sky darkening. Seeing the clouds afire with sunset, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before Einon returned, and what would happen then? Could she go through it all again? When would he tire of his game and release her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Looking down, she could see the quarry where this whole affair had begun when she'd begged him to release her poor father, foolishly asking mercy of a man who had none.
Suddenly, Kara heard the sound of stone grating on stone, and she whirled around to see a tunnel opening up in the floor before the hearth. She jumped down from the casement, not knowing what to expect and ready to fight, but it was a woman who mounted the hidden stairs, the same sad-eyed woman that Kara had seen at the high table what now seemed like ages ago: queen Aislinn, the monster's mother.
"Don't be afraid" the queen said, raising a gentle hand in a calming motion. "I won't let you suffer the same fate as me."
Quickly, the queen led her down the dark stairs into a seeming maze of tunnels. She pointed to one tunnel leading down and away. "This will bring you out well below the castle walls," she said. For one brief moment, Kara hesitated, but in Aislinn's eyes, she saw a woman trapped as she herself had been trapped, and she understood. This was Aislinn's one act of defiance just as the knife had been hers. So, she accepted it and ducked down the dark tunnel, going towards the freedom that would forever be denied the other woman.
by the time she thought to thank her, the queen was already gone.
- 1
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Sharing a Fate