Lord of the West

Chapter 8

Where the heart rules



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Daen stirred and wondered what had woken her; she was in Lord Darcia’s arms.
His fingertips stroked over the cut on her chest, gently, as softly as the brush of a butterfly’s wings. She opened her eyes watching his face, reading the expressions there, it was peaceful, and showed so much caring that her heart ached with it, but there was a troubled look in his storm coloured eyes. “I could have lost you.” He said, echoing the words he had spoken the night before.

He bent his dark head to her chest and followed the path that his finger tips; using his lips to butterfly kiss the wound over and over, as if he sought to heal it. Daen stroked his black hair and spoke quietly. 'I thought when they held the sword over my breast for a moment that if they plunged it in to my heart it would be better than to feel it breaking anymore. But I wanted to see you again so badly that I …'

'It's alright, I understand.” He smiled slightly, but his voice remained serious. “I was there remember. I would rather fall on my own sword than let you go through that again. And now here with you I feel like my heart is in its rightful place, in your hands.” As much as the past few days had taken a tole on her body, and as frightened she had been the last few days, Daen knew that Darcia had been far more traumatised by it than she. He lapsed back in to a brooding silence as he toyed with the chain about her neck, his seal ring on it, nestling snugly between her breasts. She wondered what he was thinking about, unasked questions lingered in his eyes, but she dared not ask what. He seemed distant.

“Go back to sleep.” She admonished softly, smiling at him until the smile was echoed on his face. Daen sighed with contentment and let her eyes drift close again. Not at her best in the morning she sought to settle back to sleep snuggling in to his welcoming warmth and enjoying his gentle touches.

Darcia watched as she stretched languorous and cat like against him. His eyes ran over the supple curve of her breast, and her slightly concave belly. Daen knew that hungry look all to well. Her Dark Lord often liked to make love in the morning. Daen often would complain to him that she preferred to have an undisturbed lay in, unfortunately for her however he was far to persuasive a lover for her to resist.

The young woman shifted and turned her back on the man, making an exaggerated show of settling back to sleep. The noble however was not deterred and as he rubbed his hands over her shoulder blades and down her arms in a soothing massage, she let him, making a soft noise akin to a purr escape her lips. Daen know what he was going to do and she did not protest as he spooned the length of his body against her letting her feel the swelling of his arousal against her. Letting his intentions be made entirely clear he rolled his hips against her, letting her feel him as he moved the thick weight of her hair from her shoulder so that he might kiss it. Daen in response moaned and pressed herself back into him.

He soft kisses turn in to gentle nips, as he scored his teeth along the creamy expanse of her shoulder. He stilled suddenly and crushed Daen to him, holding her hard against him. What ever emotion he was struggling with earlier seemed to have taken over once again stifling his desire. With out words his body alone with his iron grip seemed to be saying, I will never, I can never let you go. “You’re still not well. I’m sorry Daen.”

"I want you in me," Daen said. She could not believe the words were hers but she needed to find a way to distract him from what ever personal pain had him in its grip. He did not reply but shifted her thigh so it lay over his leaving her open and vulnerable. Darcia could never deny his little love anything, at least not for long. Dean fought to try to bite back a moan as he slid his finger into her. She rippled her inner muscles around him. She knew that it thrilled him how she could do that, turning her head she could see it on his face and hear it in his suddenly escalating breathing. He wanted to be in her, he wanted to feel that tightness gripping his desire and squeezing him. Lloer help her, Daen thought that she wanted it to, beyond rhyme and reason she wanted him.

Still watching the young woman, he pushed another finger into her as his thumb rubbed at her hidden pearl. He worked swiftly, determined to have her thrashing in his arms as quickly as possible, his own desire urgent and pressing. Daen bucked against him, her nails scoring in to his arms as her hands scrabbled to find purchase. "Easy," he murmured. His voice was low and his breath hot over her ear.

Daen’s breath caught, but before she could respond to his words, his fingers curled inside her body. A strangled cry escaped her throat and she jerked, but his fingers were relentless, forcing her to that place of bright colours and raw sensation. Sweat poured off her body, off his body. Daen’s hair was stuck to her forehead but he doesn't seem to care as he kissed her temple.

"'What do you want?" he asked against her heated skin. "Tell me."

Daen bit her lip, blushing. When he demanded that she answer him again, his voice like dark velvet she could do no outer than answer him. "Be in me my lord, take away this ache.”

The fingers left her, replaced with something bigger, blunter. He doesn't wait but pushed in with one smooth stroke from behind. He gasped slightly when his hips come up flush her soft rear. It was not just the tight grip of her molten heat that griped him, her inner thighs made a channel for him also. Daen trembled in his arms, so sensitive from his ministrations that it was almost uncomfortable to have him within her, she could acutely feel his every shift, his every twitch, but with his arms about her she could not move away. All she could do was breath, and even that she seemed to be struggling with. Against her back she could feel his thundering heartbeat as he began to move and she concentrated on that, letting the rhythm carry her.


Darcia rocked in to her, every deep thrust into her body making his eyes roll up a little more into his head. Daen started breathing in time with his thrusts, moaning and gasping louder than Darcia had expected from her. She could not help herself. The friction he was creating was making her entire body sing with bliss like a plunked string. She trembled and thrashed against him. It made him curse and move faster. It was all too much for the young woman as unchecked pleasure rushed through her body. Daen’s muscles tightened impossibly around his stiff flesh, making him curse again as he followed her, in a release that was milked from him unexpectedly. Daen rolled away from him to sprawl on her back, her body still shivering from the after effects. He did the same, his chest rising and falling heavily. After a moment he reached down to hold her hand. She turned her face to look at him. “Well that was….”

He laughed, “That was spectacular.” He finished.

“I thought I had better not say it. You have a big enough head anyway.”

“Your incorrect little one it is important that you tell a man that he is a good lover. In fact you should say it at least once every day.”

“I don’t think so. There is only just enough room for me and your ego in this bed as it is.”

“Ah but our bed back in Bala is much larger than this one.”

Daen bated him with a pillow. “You are impossible.”

“Was that supposed to hurt?” He laughed at her before Darcia stretched languidly, his body felt warm, relaxed, and almost godlike, as it always did after sex with Daen. “It is about time I got up.” He said. “I have work to do unfortunately

Daen was about to ask if he had to go but she knew he did. He was a grate lord and had responsibilities to fulfil, but that only made the time that they had together all the more special. Darcia disappeared for while, going back to his own chamber. When he returned he wore his black leather leggings that he wore underneath his armour admiring how they clung to his thighs and his rear. Tucked in to the waist of these he wore a dark red shirt and a padded jerkin. Seeing him in clothes made her want to take them off again.

Darcia paused on the threshold for a moment watching Daen as she watched him. Her eyes travelled down his tapering flanks.

“Have you nothing better to do than stare at your lord child?” Darcia asked with a smile.

“No, my Lord I think not.”

“Am I so pleasing to your eye?”

“Yes my lord.”

Lord Darcia smiled widely. What ever shadows had hunted his expression earlier in the morning had now left his face, like storm clouds chased off by the sun. Daen was sitting up, only a sheet dressing her. She was leaning back on her arms, her knees raised. Her hair was lose and tousled, some of it still stuck to her body from their earlier interlude, the creamy expanse of her one shoulder was exposed, and her slim ankles. But the thing that Darcia noticed most about her was her emerald eyes, kindled with interest and admiration. And they looked only at him with flirtation sparking in them, her eyelashes sweeping down seductively.

Darcia stepped forward and stroked his hand up her ankle. Cupping her heal. “You my dear are a distraction.”

Daen brushed her hand over his cavical as that slow smile that he adored curved her lips. “Am I?”

“Imp.” He admonished his voice dropping an octave as he lent over her. Gently he kissed her, the kiss deepening as her hands griped his shoulders. Darcia scooped the young woman up and carried her in his arms.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked, squirming in his arms.

“I have filled you a bath.” He explained and carried her to the anti chamber that was next to her room. “Until we ride back to Bala I want you to rest.”

A tub of steaming hot water was there and he placed her in it. The hot water easing aches of the past few days. Darcia despite his gentleness was not indifferently endowed and it had been a while since they had joined. “Is this your way of keeping me from distracting you?”

“Hardly.” He smiled as he rolled up his sleeves. “I just mean to look after you properly from now on that is all.” He took a cloth and some soap and began to wash her back. Laving it up thoroughly before he rinsed her off. Darcia washed her every limb, carefully cleansing each of her limbs, noting every bump and bruise. He then got her to lean back, soaking her hair with warm water before carefully massaging soap in to her hair. Daen moaned, the feel of his strong fingers at her temples was simply wonderful. He rinsed her hair thoroughly. Daen lent back and looked up at him. “Good?” he asked.

“Very good.” Daen purred as he rubbed her neck her neck. His fingers working magic upon her, she just wanted to melt in to the water. The young woman sat up and reaching around she tugged at his shirt.

“Daen.” He admonished. “I have to ware these and your hands are wet.”

“Well if you want to keep them dry then take them off.”

He let out a low hrm, but capitulated and he drew them off over his head, revealing his chiselled chest. “Happy now?”

“Very.” Daen smiled as she settled back. Darcia resumed his place and his massaging of her neck.

Daen reached up to capture his one hand. “What do you want me to stop massaging you?”

“No, but massage me here.” Daen said, dragging his hand down to cover her breasts. She felt him stiffen for a second, and then he smirked, his fingers closing in over her soft flesh. He lent over her and his lips met hers in a hungry kiss, his hair tickling her cheek. He closed his eyes, and shifting around on his kneed he moved to her side so that he could kiss her more thoroughly, like a starving man. It was both a pleasure and a pain to hold her, both haven and the curses of the underworld. Her encouragements this morning were balm to him, and closing his eyes he could hope that she truly did love him, that despite his darkness, dispute his harsh treatment of her that she had forgiven him.

At the doorway he heard a surprised gasp. Darcia looked up and standing there in the door way was one of his mothers priestess. The priestess dropped her tray with a clatter. Her face was a mask of shock. Darcia moved to hide the young woman’s nakedness from the other woman’s eyes. The priestess red faced turned and fled from the room. “I think it is breakfast time.” Daen whispered against the heavy muscle of his chest. Her lips then slipped down to his flat nipple, latching on ad teasing it. “How long do you think we have?”

Darcia groaned. “Not long enough. We never have long enough.” He kissed her again hard, dragging up her body so that she was pulled flush against him. But he then receded looking down at her ruefully. “Later little one. We will have time for this later.” He wrapped her in a bath robe and pulled his clothes back on ignoring her pout and his own raging arousal.

Her hands were on her hips and her eyebrows rose haughtily. “You’re going now?”

“I’m afraid that interruption broke the mood somewhat little one.” Lord Darcia apologised. “ Besides I don’t think you can handle me twice in one morning.”

“Handle you?” Daen exclaimed, she then laughed. “I believe we have discussed your ego already.”

“Have we?” he faned innocence he said as she stepped towards him.

“We have.” She smiled, tugging on his hair. “I suppose I will have to let you go.”

“And you will rest in bed today.”

“Sometimes I think you want to keep me as some kind of sex slave. You would be very happy if I just stayed in our room waiting around for you.” Daen teased.

“Now the idea has merits.” He said his eyes thoughtful.

“Bastard.” Daen thumped him on the chest for that.

“Now, now.” Darcia smiled. “You are far more to me than that little one.” He picked her up and threw her on to her bed. “Now little one you will rest. And I will return to you soon.”


Daen watched him leave and lay back on the bed. Awake now she could not find sleep. Alone again she had no one to distract her from the guilt that was a weight upon her heart. She knew that if she stayed inactive that her own thoughts would drive her crazy, her emotions were still to new for her to sort through, the memories were still sharp enough to cut her soul to ribbons. She needed to find herself something to do to forget until the vivid images faded. When she had fled Nheim she had found work as a healer. It was carthic, she could forget her own pain by immersing herself in others hurts, healing them and by extension herself. She was not useless; she was not just a weapon. She had learned that even the most deadly poison if used in the correct way could be a useful tool to a healer. If even a toxin could be used for good then surely there had to be something salvageable in herself.




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Lord Darcia had daen's sent clinging to him all morning. And like her sent he could not be rid of his thoughts about her. He had grown used to thinking of her the whole time, from the very first instance he had seen her he had not been able to shake her from his thoughs for long. It was she alone who did not fear him, who would defy him, who would dare he hoped to love him. It was this however that was causing him such indesison, how could he ask her to marry him when he knew this was in all likelyhood was what her life would be like. He was pressed by enamys at all sides, and he could not always be there to sheald her from the horrors of war. But he knew at the same time he could not let her go, not if he wanted to remain intact.


“Where is Daen?” Lord Darcia asked his mother finding both the solar and Daen’s bedroom empty.

“I thought that she was with you.” His mother had shrugged.

And I thought that she was with you Lord Darcia thought though he did not voice this. Lord Darcia found much to his annoyance that Daen could now block him at will and he could find no trace of her. He suspected that she was up to no good. He had told her to remain in bed evidently she had yet again flouted his will. He had never known anyone who disobeyed him quite so often as Daen did. She knew that she could get away with it the little minx. He must be going soft.

“Bherith.” He called his sword, griping the hilt.

“What is it Master?” The demon replied testily. The blade was tired; he had after all managed to maintain a thunder storm for nearly two days solid. It was no small feat, even when he had been alive it would have been tough. Right now all the demon wanted to do was sleep.

“Daen is hiding herself from me.” Darcia admitted, “Can you help find her?”

Darcia felt his demon’s mental sigh. But then the jewel at the hint flashed for a moment as if it had caught the sun light before it dulled. A moment or so the lustre returned and it morphed in to a gleaming garnet eye that blinked up at him. “I can not find her either.”

“I feared as much.” Darcia said, but he did not sound particularly worried.

“She is growing strong, just as you predicted master.” Bherith hissed in his mind with approval. “She is a fitting mate for you.”

“That is if I can convince her to be my mate.”

Bherith dismissed this. “You have taken her many times. You took her this morning. She bares your sent, and any male who would threaten her you would kill…”

“It does not work like that in the society of men. She will need to bare my name to truly be mine in the eyes of my people. It requires more than simply taking her.” Darcia knew that this was not an argument he could win with his demon. Bherith was already convinced that the young woman was already theirs. She was his, but never the less there were certain conventions he had to adhere to. Demons knew nothing of courtship. Darcia began to search for Daen the old fashioned way. He had a nagging feeling that she had left the keep and gone in to the town. His instincts proved to be correct when one of the gatekeepers admitted to have seeing the Sybilla. Apparently she had informed the guard’s man that she was going down to the Temple to care for the Imperial wounded.

“She went by herself.”

“Yes my Lord.” The man nodded.

“She had no escort?”

“We offered, but she said that a group of armed men was not going to give the right impression.” The guards’ man explained, growing more and more nervous as Darcia’s expression visibly darkened. “I thought that you knew.” Lord Darcia cursed long and low under his breath. It was an eloquent dissertation that had Lord Roche’s senchal cringing. “I’m sorry sire.”

Lord Darcia rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Do not worry about it. She is incorrigible. I cannot blame you, when I myself cannot control her.”

Darcia spotted his horse still across the court yard saddled and bridled from his earlier excursion being lead back to the stalls by a young stable lad. He lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled. The stallion’s ears immediately pricked up and it halted mid step turning its head towards its master. Darcia whistled again and this time Per jerked his rains out of the surprised and confused lad’s hands and trotted over to Lord Darcia, its head held high, and its knees lifted. “Good boy.” Darcia said, rubbing his favourite between the eyes before swinging himself up in to the saddle.

He set off down the hill, half way down he heard a clatter of hoofs behind him. Glancing back he saw a familiar horse careening towards him. Half hanging off the saddle but hanging on grimly was Alwen. “Ah,” Lord Darcia thought, “I had forgotten that Lonan would answer my call as well.” He found himself laughing as he pulled up giving a red faced Alwen a chance to pull himself back in the saddle.

“Sire he just took off….I could not stop him …I’m sorry.” Alwen stammered.

Darcia waved his hand. “It was my oversight.” Alwen looked confused. “I will explain later.” Lord Darcia promised. “But right now I am searching for Daen. You may come if you wish.” To this Alwen nodded enthusiastically and followed Darcia down in to the town.

Lord Darcia began his search of the town. He left Alwen talking to some of the younger guards men. Lord Darcia found his little love in the Temple chapel, all the anger at her recklessness fled the moment he saw her. His heart did a summersault and he stood watching her, had he been a man who could cry, then he would have been moved to tears. Daen was bent over tending the wounded. The light fell through the vaulted stained glass windows, dappled pink, blue and gold like perfect geometric designs made of light reflecting off water. The colours danced and shifted over her as she moved, washing their wounded enemies burns. She was a saint; there was no other way to describe her.

He shifted the metal of his plate armour clanking and scraping gently as he did reminding him of what he was a weapon. He sighed watching her, feeling ugly, a monster in comparison with her compassion. But it did not change that this place was too dangerous for her. He waited until she noticed him standing in the open arch way. He knew that she would have felt his eyes burning in to her. Daen stood and approached him after washing her hands, perfectly calm and composed.

"What are you doing here?" Lord Darcia demanded softly so no one could over hear. "It is very dangerous for you to be here like this. Do you know how easy it is to assassinate someone in a noisy, crowded place like this?"

“Don’t be angry with me.” She said to him her green eyes twinkling despite the lines of fatigue around her face. “This is just something that I have to do.” Daen did not even have the decency to look repentant. "My Lord I have not always led a sheltered life. After all you met me when I was running for my life.” Daen pointed out, “By the goddesses, you brought me from a prison. I have been in much rougher places than this. I can take care of myself."

Daen’s obliviousness to danger only irritated Darcia further. "Then your only excuse for being out here is to prove something, is that it?"

“No.”

“Do not look at me like that Daen. Your life was almost taken from me; do you have any idea what it was like for me to awaken to a sight like that? To feel your fear and not be able to protect you as I had sworn to myself to do?” He pulled her in to his arms, his body trembling with some barely suppressed emotion. “Let me protect you, just trust my judgment, let me keep you where I know you will be safe at least until that image fades from my mind.”

Daen’s anger was quenched by his plea. All he wanted was her welfare, but it did not change the fact that she was an independent spirit. Over the past few days she had learned that she could face her fears and survive. She smiled and held him back. “I don’t fear for my safety. Nothing is going to happen to me.” Daen pulled him back and cupped his determined jaw in both hands, “After all I have you watching over me.” Darcia’s brow quirked, he wondered where Daen was going with this as there was a thoughtful look on her face that he knew boded no well. Daen’s eyes were twinkling indulgently, but her mouth did not betray her mirth. “Perhaps we can come up with a compromise.”

“That is a loaded statement.” Darcia said carefully. Daen pouted and he relented. He could not deny her for long. “What do you propose little one?”

“That you stay with me hear for a little while. That way I can work and you can make sure I am safe.” She lowered her eyes, “I would like to spend time with you as well.”

He stifled a laugh. Damnable female logic, but he could not fault it. Nor could he deny her when she gave him that wide eyed and pleading look. She had turned his emotional black mail right back on him. Clever girl. “Why is this so important to you little one, they were our enemies but yesterday?”

Daen stepped from his arms, but linked her fingers around his hand moving out in to the open air on top of the steps. She looked over the ornamental gardens of the Temple. “This place is peaceful.” She sighed. “Look some one has already righted the toppled over pots, the only signs of the past few days disorder is soil on the paths, and that is something that can soon be swept away.”

“Little one why are you talking about gardening?”

“I was trying to make an analogy. Only I don’t think that I am doing a very good job of it. I don’t really understand myself. I suppose I feel guilty on some level. These men were just doing their jobs, they are just pawns. I just can’t leave it alone, not when I know I can help. ”

“Daen everyone is responsible for their own actions. It is folly to think otherwise. We each control our own destiny, every choice for bad or good. That is what we believe in Marchadia.”

“They are not Marchadian.” Daen replied. “And nether am I. Besides this is my choice, my penance for my sins.” She tried for levity. “I was training as a healer you know, back in Mawnaws before you abducted me.”

Darcia spoke decidedly ignoring her attempt at humour needing to get to the bottom of the matter. “Daen you owe these men nothing. You did nothing wrong.”

“I killed a man.”

Lord Darcia squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You did nothing wrong.” He reiterated. “Little one you know nothing of killing really. I cannot even remember all of the men I have killed.” Daen looked up at her lord as he spoke, she saw the hardness about his mouth, and the coldness in his eyes, and it was frightening as if he was another person entirely. Someone capable of grate cruelties. He looked back down at her, his face changed entirely, tender, kind. “Daen, you have such a big heart. How can you blame yourself? You are no more to blame than the bear mother protecting her cubs.” He kissed her forehead in benediction.

“I suppose.” Daen sighed as he tucked her under his arm. As if he sought to shield her from the world.

He paused and took hold of her chin, making her look at him. “Daen you must believe it. There is not a bad bone in your body. Believe me.” You must believe me he thought, for if you condemn yourself then you will never accept me and my blood blackened heart.

“Why does it matter how I feel?”

“Because your pain beats at me.”

“I can live with it.” Daen shrugged.

“I cannot.” Darcia replied sincerely. “I can not suffer you be hurt, not in any way.”
Daen did not know what to answer this. She felt something shift in her mind, an old knot of pain loosening slightly. Even when her family had loved her, there had always been some reserve. They had always doubted her goodness, like a dog that might bite. But her Dark Lord who had no reason to trust her did, implicitly. He admired her goodness, relied upon it. He put her happiness above his own. “Oh little one do not cry.” He murmured, his thumb stroking away the evidence of her over spilling emotions. “I can’t let anyone find out that my woman has self esteem issues. It would not reflect well on my position.” He teased.

Daen giggled, and he kissed her. “I did not know how I felt about myself would affect your standing among your people.”

“Absolutely.” He said, “I have a reputation to maintain after all. I will need an equally fierce wife.”

Daen laughed again, the sadness that had been weighing her down lightening somewhat. “So what will I be expected to do?”

He smiled wickedly. “Oh you know, like in the fairy tales, bathe in virgin’s blood, eat babies that kind of thing.”

Daen crinkled up her nose in disgust. “Your not that bad.”

“Am I not?” He answered; Daen could not place his tone. She was going to ask something when a joyous sound reached her ears distracting her. “I can hear the children in the town singing and playing. Nothing keeps their spirits down for long.”

“Nor should it.” Darcia said. “Now since this is so important to you little one I suppose I will have to be your escort.”

“So much for big bad lord Darcia.” Daen smiled. “You must be going soft?”

“I fear you may be right.” He muttered. “Little one why did you not at least disguise yourself as a priestess?”

“I didn’t want to disguise myself anymore.” Daen explained. “My Lord why don’t you help as well? You seemed to have some skill at healing wounds when I was hurt after climbing that cliff.”

“No.” he shock his head. “Daen it would be hypocritical for me to do so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Daen do not take it the wrong way. I do not think what you are doing is hypocritical, you honestly with your whole heart want to help these men.” He patted her hand. “Besides do you really think any of them would feel comfortable with me tending there wounds? If they are not dead already, then I’m sure they would die of shock should I attempt that.”

“You have a point.” She admitted with good humour. Darcia left her at the door settling to watch her from the shadows under an arch way. Daen worked all afternoon, and he had to respect her diligence. She had lit candles whose soothing sent filled the temple, chasing away the reek of infection, blood and pain. Daen was concentrating entirely on her task, she was carefully stitching closed a sword wound. Typically she was so engrossed in her work that she was quite oblivious to the stir her presence in the temple amongst her fallen foes was causing. From his place in the shadows he scanned the room with his hawk like gaze. He was not the only person who was watching the young woman at her work. There were those in pain hoping that someone would come and help them soon. There were those not so badly off who desired the touch of the pretty healer. Darcia gritted his teeth having to fight the urge to put the lecherous men’s eyes out, written on their faces he could see every grubby little fantasy, only had the right to think of his woman like that. His jealousy was just another new emotion he would have to get used to. Daen was a beautiful woman it was natural that men should find her attractive. Sadly he had the feeling that if they had any idea who she was they would not be quite so grateful of her attentions.

There was a ripple of discontent in the general conversation. Someone had recognised her as the one who had lead the defence of Rhayd. The Sybilla. There were fearful whispers, curious, uncertain, and angry. “What is she doing here?” There ingratitude annoyed Lord Darcia, but at the same time he understood, the last thing he would have wanted after being defeated would be to have the victor lick his wounds.

He was relaxing back against an arch when something snatched at his attention the glint of malevolent eyes in amongst a crowd of gawkers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a face set in a mask of pure hatred and their attention was fixed on Daen. Darcia’s grip on his sword tightened, but when he turned to seek the face in the crowd it had gone. Lord Darcia let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He stood for a few more long minuets, the anxiety he felt far from abating only seemed to increase. His every instinct demanded that he take her from this place, a wounded enemy was still an enemy. Every one of them could be an assassin. It only took a few pounds of pressure to kill someone, he knew he was an expert at it; she was so fragile, so precious. And he could bare it no longer. Detaching himself from the shadows he went to her as she rose, her neat stitching finished.

“Daen there was a man he means no well.” He whispered in her ear. “There are also those who have worked out that you are not just a town woman.”

Daen sighed. “Good. I wanted them to know it was me. Besides who would harm a healer?”

He had no answer for that, but he was losing his patience. She looked worn; he could see the almost imperceptible tremor in her hands. “We must go now. You are tired, all you will do is make yourself sick again.”

A bird flew across the window outside shadowing the young woman’s face for a moment before revealing the anger that appeared there. The young woman placed her hands on her hips. “Not until I have finished. I will be here all night if I have to.”

"You are behaving like an irresponsible child," Darcia shot back. "We're leaving before someone else recognizes you." Holding the young woman firmly by the arm, he dragged Daen through the sudden press of curious bodies and out in to the bright daylight of the street. When he stood looking for Alwen and his horse Daen jerked back and freed herself. Darcia’s eyes flashed angrily as she turned on her heal and strode rebelliously away from him heading back in to the temple. “Daen come back hear at once.”

Daen did not even look back at him. Wanting to avoid a public scene he spoke in her mind. “Daen I mean it. Come back hear at once.”

“Or what?” She replied standing on the steps of the temple, she spoke aloud, her emerald eyes flashing, caring not who overheard. “You do not scare me Lord Darcia. Remember you promised that you would never harm me again. I am not afraid of you, and you can’t just order me around like one of your servants!”

Darcia growled at her disobedience. He took a few long strides to reach her side. Daen looked up at him without flinching, just as she always had done. “I said that I would not harm you, it does not mean I will not do what I think I must to keep you safe. If that means I have to carry you out of here kicking and screaming so be it.” He hissed.

“So do it?” She challenged and once more flounced off tossing her hair over her shoulder in a very feminine gesture of defiance. Darcia was left standing outside, his mouth pressed in a hard line, his eyes burning silver flames, his fists clenched at his sides.

Daen once inside had practically ran back in to the relative sanctuary of the temple lady’s chapel once she was out of Lord darcia’s eye sight. She placed her back to one of the stone pillars and stood trying to catch her breath. He was right of course, she was so snappish because she was tired, too tired to be working on injured men. Of course just because he was right only made her angrier with him. Why did he just assume that he had the right just to order her around like he did? And then she remembered, her hands unconsciously went to where the Saphora band had once lay. She was his.

She had always had a quick temper, but it faded swiftly, after a moment the heat of her anger began to leave her. She was being unfair to Lord Darcia, he had not treated her like a slave or even a servant since he had expressed a romantic interest in her. He genuinely cared for her, but he was a grate lord, he was used to being obeyed. Even love would not change the nature of the beast, at least not overnight. She bit her thumb nail, even now he was holding back, giving her some privacy. She decided that even though she was not going to admit that he was right, he was to bossy already, but she would apologise to him for her behaviour. She had been childish. With reluctant steps she walked back towards the atrium of the temple. The isle that ran along side the nave was dark, cast in shadows by the heavy stone pillars. Daen engrossed in coming up with a decent apology did not notice that someone was following her until it was to late and a alien hand dragged her backwards by her hair.

Daen screamed. But that was soon cut off when the unknown attacker slammed her in to the wall stunning her momentarily. “Bitch!” The assailant hissed. Her eyes wide and terrified she saw who he attacker was. It was the young Imperial knight who had sought her life the other night. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.” He said.

Daen lashed out with one leg, her kick was week, but it managed to make him lose his balance and she had a brief opportunity to run, which she did. The imperial knight bet on revenge was soon on his feet and following her. Daen was physically week still, he was young, fit and male and he caught her by the hair again, sending her sprawling to the floor as he landed on top of her just as she had reached the steps of the temple.

Darcia had been standing outside the temple when he heard her scream. His normally ordered mind in chaos. His thoughts were rolling and volcanic, spinning around and around his head until he thought he might go mad. What Daen needed was to be kept safe, she needed to rest, but the little fool willingly and knowingly risked peril and even her own health. He could not allow it to go on, he would not allow it. He did not care is she cried, or if those beautiful impossibly large green eyes were sad and haunted he would protect her from himself. And yet he still stood, unable to carry out his threat. The furthest he had got was to find his horse who he now petted as he thought. However when he heard her scream all his thoughts were brushed aside but fear for her safety. He had turned to see her running flat out towards the steps the man he had seem before in hot pursuit. He had dragged her to the floor pined Daen down, and his hands were curling about her throat, seeking to choke the life from her.

Darcia had run then with speed that was not human, as swift and unerring as a diving hawk he went to her. Darcia caught the assailant by his throat with one strong hand and pinned him up against the wall, lifting him off his feat with his incredible strength. Repaying the favour to the man who would dare lay a hand on his woman. This particular Imperial knight held personal interest for lord Darcia. The duke was surprised by the venom he felt for the man. Lord Darcia had hated before, but it had been a cool anger, now it was red hot in his veins.

“Go now Daen.” Darcia ordered. He wanted Daen gone before she witnessed the causal destruction of the loathsome creature that he had dangling from his crushing grip. She had seen more than enough death and destruction.

Daen could feel Lord Darcia’s utter cold fury, his lack of mercy, his battle lust, his desire to kill those who had opposed him. The imperial knight was trying to pry darcia’s hand from his throat, but he was as effective as a toddler bating at their father. His face was going red, and he gaped like a fish out of water. Here was the dangerous man that she had only heard stories of so far, the man who was capable of personally killing his own family for their crimes against him. It was the man she had glimpsed only briefly back in Mawnaws when he had bull whipped the noble who had attempted to rape her. There was no mercy in this Darcia, just anger. And she feared for him.

“Release him!” Daen pleaded though her head was pounding, and her legs were week but she pushed her way through and wrapped a hand in Darcia’s mantle as if she sought to anchor him. His silence answered her. “Please don’t kill him, please I beg you. I can not be responsible for another death!”

“He used his sword on you; he sought to kill you and seeks it now. I see no reason for his continuing existence.”

“He wants revenge, I killed his brother with an arrow.” Daen argued, though she felt somewhat relieved. No one had known how scared she had been, no one but Lord Darcia even if he had to steal the information from her mind.

“And I want revenge for him harming you little one so he and I are in perfect accord.”

“If that was meant to be a joke it was not funny.”

“Daen I am being deadly serious. Now get out of here, this is not a thing for you to see.”

“Do not do this thing.” Was all she said and she turned and left him with one last pleading look. It warmed him to think that she trusted him to do the right thing as she saw it. She was wrong of course the man deserved to die and he would have blithely dished out a clean death to the man but Daen had defeated him with her belief in him. Because of her belief that he had more of a heart than he actually did she had bound his hands. To please her he would spare the man and she knew it.

Lord Darcia waited until his men had helped throw Daen up upon a horse before he turned to the young knight. “Your very lucky if it was not for the woman you tried to kill two days ago and her misplaced guilt you would have been dead.” Lord Darcia said, his voice devoid of any feeling his eyes cold as glacier ice. He pushed the man to the side, casting him aside like a raggy doll. From his lofty height he looked down at the man at his feet, his glacier eyes scornful. “Go now and live your life.” The thought flickered through Lord Darcia’s mind of kicking the wretch squarely in the ribs, but such actions were beneath him.


Lord Darcia then turned his back on the man who had harmed his woman and had dared to do it again though every fibber of his being screamed at him to end the vile worms miserable existence. He had walked twelve paces removing his helmet to wipe his brow and was just about to mount Per when he herd the scuffle of feet behind him and the tell tale clank of armour as the young man rushed at him. Lord Darcia turned his face, a look of utter contempt upon his face. The imperial knight rushed upon him but Lord Darcia did not turn to meet him until the last moment.


Darcia moved so swiftly that the young man did not know he had taken a mortal blow. The Duke had reversed his grip on his sword, holding it as one doing penance before rising a single arm and brining Bherith down in one swift stab through the gap in the armour over the young man’s cavical, baring down hard and swift. The blade bit down through the young man’s body, slicing his vital organs, slipping through them like water. When Darcia drew the blade back a spray of bright arterial blood decorated Per’s side and splattered Darcia’s emotionless face.

He did not wait for the body to hit the floor as he mounted his horse as much satisfaction (and there was satisfaction) as it brought him to know that the man would walk the world no more he had other things to do, and Darcia had never been a man to indulge in gloating. The imperial knight was only aware of a sudden pain, confusion, followed by a sudden weakness that brought him to his knees, and then the icy cold that spread through his limbs. His visions blurred and dark encroached upon it as he slumped to the muddy ground his life force pumping out of him with his diminishing heart beet until it skipped a beat than stopped.

Daen’s mind so raw from the past few days had been instantly drawn to the disturbance that she felt; a vibration of violence, a malevolent intent, a ripple of power. She had rained her horse to a halt and turned head in just enough time to see the young man attempt to dive upon her Lord only Lord Darcia had drawn Bherith in an instant stabbing down through the mans sternum with a pitiless blow, her Dark lord’s eyes relentless, without mercy or remorse. She knew the exact moment that the young man had died. The only mercy was that she could not see his face, wide eyed and pale. She turned her face from the scene trying to fight the rising sickness.

“My lady are you alright?” Alwen asked concerned by her sudden pallor.

“No, no I don’t think I am.” She replied, a trembling hand covering her mouth her green gaze blurred by tears that stung her eyes.

Daen had no idea how it happened but her thing grip over her self control broke, and she flung herself from her horse and ran at her lord, unable to control the sudden rage flowing through her, angry at herself for her weakness, angry at him for making her this way, for forcing her in to this life, for making her love him. Headless of his armour she pounded upon it with her little fists. Darcia’s futures remained calm as he caught her pressing her body to his. “Sussh,” he murmured holding her close as her struggles decreased, “Be calm little one.”

“No I won’t be calm; I have just watched you slaughter a man in front of me! You promised, you promised me!” Daen felt her legs give out from underneath her, if he had not been holding her she would have slipped to the floor. Carefully he guided her in to a near by building, the atrium of the temple.

“Daen he would have killed me otherwise is that what you wanted?”

She closed her eyes, unable to look in to his anymore. “No I…..You wanted him to attack you, you wanted to have the excuse.”

His strong gauntleted hand griped the back of her neck, gently despite his strength. “He chose his own fate little one.” He explained his voice compelling, “He chose to attack me after I let him go.” He was still steal, his mind cold and on purpose, but with her he was soft, caring, a paradox to his own nature.


Daen knew that there were huge wholes in his argument but she was too over-wrought to find them. His mind brushed against hers, but she firmly kept him out. Her eyelashes fluttered as he lowered his mouth to hers. She needed his strength, she needed him to be her anchor, she needed his touch to feel whole again even as she feared him, for it seemed that no mater what she did he always got his way in the end. This is not just love, Daen thought, this is dark obsession.


"let me go!" Daen pleaded stopping his mouth with her hand. She was very aware of his hot breath and the feel of his lips on the exact centre of her palm. "You scare me. And i am scared of myself when i am with you. I can feel my life slipping out of my control. I have to leave this place"

"I can not do that little one. Ask me anything else, ask for me to cut out my own heart and place it in your hands and i would do it. but I cant let you go, I would go mad."

"I cannot."

"You can not leave me!" he said his voice braking slightly, so thick with emotion. His naked pain made her heart lurch and she had to fight the instinct to comfort him. He held her to him, enveloping her in his arms, even if her heart beet in anger and fear it would beet against his. He hoped his body could explain the feelings he could not eloquently express.

She was trembling, in rage or fear he did not know. Nor could he bring himself to ask all he knew was her sent, and the feel of her silken hair against his cheek and the warmth of her small body. Daen was struggling with herself, emotions warred with each other and any defences she had were braking apart under his onslaught. She wouldn’t submit this time she promised herself even as the pain of separation from him threatened to tare her apart. But she would not be with someone she feared.

"Look at me little one." He said his voice low and coaxing.

Daen shook her head, backing up another step.

"Daen look at me."

"No." She crocked, shaking her head again wildly this time, and her tears were sent flying as she found her back pressed up against a wall. “If I look at you I will never find the strength to leave you.” Her eyes glanced sideways to the door. Darcia caught her furtive glance and the second that she moved to make a brake from the room he was upon her, moving in a blur. She let out a cry of surprise as her flight was halted by a strong hand manacling her wrist.

With a firm pull lord Darcia managed to pull her back to her place against the wall. His body hemmed her in. "No place to run to now." Darcia said. "You run from me you run from yourself."

"I cannot do this. I cannot be the wife you need."

"Daen." His voice was caressing, he tilted her stubborn chin up so that she could not avoid his molten metal gaze. There was pain there, he displayed the unguarded wounds upon his soul, there was stark male possessiveness, raw need, and admiration, admiration for the only woman he could ever want. "Daen, you are the only woman that I have loved. And you are certainly the only woman I have ever even considered to take as a wife. You cannot say that you cannot be the wife you need; you are everything I have ever wanted in a partner and more. I don’t care what anyone else might say, the only judge of who would be a suitable wife for me is me. You are proud, spirited and clever, you are perfect."

"And what if I defy you again?"

"Daen you should know by know I love every stubborn and obstinate bone in your body." He exclaimed. "I know that I am not an easy man to live with, that I am as hard as the rocks beneath our feat but I think we can build a life together despite the difficulties."

Daen's heart made a strange leap in her chest. Lord Darcia had told her that he had loved her before, but she had believed that like the times before it would pass, there would be some flaw revealed in her that would change his mind, experience had taught her that love was fleeting. Beautiful for a short while like the bloom of a flower, but in time it would wilt. With Lord Darcia's declaration she suddenly realised that this was not the case, that this would be forever. "And what of my objections?"

His hand brushed the length of her hair. His lips then descended hovering over hers, he smiled, "What objections little one?” A kiss may not be the truth but it is what we wish was true she thought as his lips met hers, devouring her like a starving man. Maybe it's because she always knew this would happen that she had fought him so hard in the beginning. That the moment she gave in just a little, she would be lost to her Dark Lord, overwhelmed by his blazing sexuality, helpless to fend off his aggressiveness.

“I cant do this. Not now!” Daen beet her fists against his chest, she thrashed and demanded that he let her go. He struggled to hold her, not wanting to harm her with his greater strength. She was all fury and spit fire. Her nails raked across his face leaving four deep gouges.

His hand came to his face and found the blood. He looked at it on his finger tips. Daen to stilled, her eyes wide and round. She looked up at her handy work and then in to his eyes. Her mouth opened as if in horror of what she had done. With a fierce shove she pushed herself away from him.

"Oh, what have done?" She said her lips quivering, "Who are you?" She took a few steps backwards tears threatening her eyes. “And what do you want from me?”

“Daen?!” Darcia said, Daen saw pain in his eyes, she had hurt him, but she did nit want to examine it.

“Please no more.” Daen pleaded, “I am…I am to tired of all this…” she broke down in to hopeless tears. Her clenched fist was at her mouth and she sank to the floor, her sobs wracking her small frame. Darcia gathered her once more in to his arms, she continued to cry, her body shuddering violently as a storm of emotion rained within her. He held her close, he could lead armies, he could rule a whole kingdom, he could even call down lightning down from the very sky, but he could not stop her from crying. It was agony, and they were both locked within it. Eventfully her tears subsided, but Darcia knew it was more from exhaustion than a resolution. He carried her out of the temple and placed her behind Alwen. He needed to stay behind and se to the clean up, he also sensed that she needed time alone.

Daen felt numb, she clung behind Darcia’s squire loosely. A huge warhorse drew along side her, but it was its master who she could not bare to look upon and yet could not rip her gaze away from. Her dark lord lent over and clasped the hand she was holding her rains in. He gave it firm squeeze, meant to be reassuring, but all she felt was his merciless strength and the iron bite of his gauntlet.

“Take her back to the keep.” Lord Darcia ordered tersely to his squire. “Guard her with your life.”





Lady Cyrus was left with a bit of a conundrum trapped between her son and the woman he loved. Daen had sought her out looking wane and tearful. “Have you and my son quarrelled?” Cyrus asked intuitively. Daen had nodded miserably "I'm afraid."

The older woman frowned. "Of him?"

Daen picked at the cloth beneath her hand. "Of loving him. Of letting him . . . love me. I don't know if I can risk that."

The dowager placed a finger beneath Daen's chin and tilted her face up. "Do you want to?"

Daen closed her eyes. “Yes.”

The Darcia’s were dread bride grooms. Lady Cyrus knew this from personal experience. How could she in good faith advise the young woman to stay knowing her son would be just as overbearing as his father. He did however love the young woman. The personality characteristics of their family were strongly marked in all of their offspring. They were passionate and dynamic with clever minds and strong wills. They had a hot temper which sometimes could prejudice there calculated schemes. When they conceived of something it would be on a grand scale, only their will could match there conception, and all their recourses would be bent to its realization. Lady Cyrus had only known her husband’s father in the twilight of his years but soon came to see the truth in the saying that he was a human chariot that drew all else after him.

Her husband Andromalius never seemed to take a moments rest. In temple he scribbled plans for the bettering of his forts; while hearing matters of business he would be mending his war harness, In relaxation he would hunt from dawn to dusk then would spend the night with her keeping her up until the morning lights rays hit their naked body’s. Cyrus had thought that no one could be more powerful and intimidating than her father or brother, the very emperor’s of the civilized world but she had been proved wrong. To be in the court of Darcia was to know the fury and energy of demon hordes.

In her secluded nunnery she rarely heard word from the outside word, but the stories she had overheard of her son had worried her. Though he was kindness itself to her, she feared for him. She had overheard the men bringing supplies talking of him, that he cares for no success that was not reached buy his own sword and stained by the blood of his adversaries, that he was just but not kind, lionhearted and loyal but soulless. Her hansom son had grown up lonely choosing to live in the arctic regains of his soul, it was self imposed she had discovered. It was enough to break her fragile heart all over again. But then hope had come in the form of a young woman who she had not yet seen, but who had played a beautiful yet hauntingly lonely song on read pipes sitting in a willow hidden from view on the far shore. She had felt joy that she had not thought herself capable of when her dark haired son had expressed his interest candidly in the young woman he had captured. It was hardly a promising start, but somehow she was sure he would manage to salvage the situation. After all had not his father abducted her, and she had and still loved him. If her son was anything like his father it would be a rough wooing.

She remembered Andras’s passion filled words, describing the woman, his voice horse and thick. ‘She blurts out whatever may come in to her head; she tumbles out from one danger in to the next; she is happier grooming horses than spending time with people, she’s impertinent; she has no discipline; she doesn’t understand the first thing about her own powers, nor is she interested in learning about them; she’s abominable, and damnably hot at hand, frank to a fault, stubborn, and…. I can’t abide her not being at my side its driving me mad……to have her but not to have her!’

Now it looked like she needed to take a motherly had in the affair. She petted the young woman’s rich brown hair. “Some men you can not change.” She said. “But I know my son loves you. He dose not love easily, and I think you bring out the best in him.”

“If it was not for me he would not have killed that man. He was not a cool tactician when he killed that man, he was angry. It frightened me how angry he was.”

“And how would you feel if someone had a sword over his breast? Wouldn’t you be angry?”

Daen sat and thought about this for a moment. “Your probably right.” She conceded.

“Daen, do not trouble yourself overly tonight. Take some rest, when you are not as tired I am sure this will seem much less terrible.” Daen agreed to this and allowed the elder woman put her to bed. A spoon full of poppy syrup ensured that her sleep was deep and mercifully dreamless.


Lord Darcia having finished his work found that the door to Daen’s chamber was locked against him. When he knocked he had no answer and his heart sunk further. A cool hand patted his shoulder, it was his mother.

“Andras she saw the battle. And she is very tired and emotionally wrought, give her a little time to take stock of everything and I’m sure she will think none the worse of you for the work you did here today.” Lady Cyrus whispered to him. “Come away for a time she sleeps now and she needs some time to sleep.”

He followed her back in to the solar, and she sat at her harp, plucking out a soothing song that he remembered from his child hood. Cyrus’s attention turned back to her son, his emotions were all consuming, and he did not know how to handle them or Daen because the young woman gets through all those barriers that he places between himself and everyone else.

“I swore never to hurt her again, but I have done it again.” Darcia admitted to his mother.

“You killed the man who sought to kill her.”

“I did so after I promised her that I would not. It was unnecessary and she knew it was unnecessary. She can see right through me. And now she fears me.”

“She fears for you Andras.” His mother explained, “It’s different. She doesn’t want to be the cause of any rash decisions for you. I think she realises what is at stake for you and she wants to help.”

“I thought that I wanted her to fear me a little, to mind me better. I was so angry. Only when she looked at me like that it was not what I wanted at all. I need her, I am a beast for wanting her so when I cannot even protect her from myself.” His voice was filled with sorrow.

“You love her Andras. And you feel this pain because you know you have hurt her. But she would not want you to leave her. She is young, she is unsure of herself, but if you guide her she will make you a fine duchess.”

“If she will have me.”

“Accept your nature my son. Your hardness lets you do what needs to be done. Daen knows this. She will accept you as you are if you would let her.”

Darcia shook his head. “Mother my nature is to keep what is mine, even if it means chaining in to my side. Daen will not stay with those terms; she is as wild as the winds.”

“Trust her to stay beside you. She loves you, you know, she will stay.” She smiled at her son, “deep down you must know you want her to know you, all of you even the worst of you. She had a great heart she will understand.”

“How can you know?” he asked.

Lady Cyrus only smiled mysteriously. “I just do. I have faith, in both of you.”

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Darcia had the iron key his mother had given him for Daen’s room in his hand. Swiftly he pulled on a clean black shirt and a pair of matching black breaches. With a comb he teased his hair in to some kind of order and surveyed the effect in a mirror. Unsatisfied he brushed his hair thoroughly once more and bound it in a low ponytail. He smiled wryly wondering at himself, he had never been a vain man before, and he had been told that he was a hansom man but never had that mattered to him until now. Lord Darcia was surprised to find himself a little nervous about the prospect of seeing Daen once again but he was determined to lay his heart open for her, it was perhaps his last chance to win her for good.

Daen was sitting on a stool at the end of the bed warring nothing but a thin night robe with her head in her hands. She felt tired. She wanted to go to sleep, but there's no relief there because the nightmares are always waiting for her. Over the past few months she had honed herself to subconsciously erect mental barriers in her mind to shield herself from nearby people’s thoughts and feelings. But it took effort, even if she was not consciously doing it. It tired her, and lately, she had been feeling nothing but tired. There was a knock at the door, probably Lady Cyrus coming to wake her as she had promised to. “Come in.” Daen called without turning around.

'Daen.'

She stiffened and looked up at the sound of his voice, at the sensation of his denominating aura, at the torrent of emotions that those things evoked. They froze, Daen sat gaping up at him, his face was emotionless but his grey-blue eyes were flickering back and forth over hers. The silence held for the beating of a few heart beets before it was broken by her sudden in drawn breath, a little gasp.

'My Lady.' He expelled with fervour before he knelt before her, hanging his head like a knight in the tales of old. 'Of all the things to teach me to kneel it is love.' He let out a low ironic laugh. 'See my dearest desire; see how you have brought me low!'

'It was not my intention to do so.' Daen said brittlely.

'Oh no, don't look at me like that.' He pleaded before he threw his arms about her and lay his head upon her lap like a man condemned placing his neck upon the block awaiting the axe to fall. “Forgive me little one.”

'I watched you kill that man.' Daen replied as she ran her fingers through his shadowy hair unable to stop herself.

“I would kill any man who laid there hands upon you.” Lord Darcia answered truthfully, looking up at her. There was something in his eyes that made her heart dance a strange rhythm in her chest.

He looked up at her straightening up, his hands coming to rest at her waist. “Do you love me? Believe in me?”

“I don’t know.” Daen swallowed, and made a fluttering motion with her hands. To her horror she felt tears burning in her eyes.

“I don’t believe you. Daen I need you.” His face searched hers yet he was so still, there was a tension in him as if he was waiting for a blow, waiting for her condemnation. He always had to be so strong. He was so responsible, on his shoulders was the whole weight of guiding and protecting his peoples, and on his conscious the life and death decisions that justice and the rule of this land demanded him to make. There was darkness in him that she had not yet come to terms with. He was a killer he made no excuses for that. She stood on a precipice; if she jumped there would be no turning back from him

“I want to help you if you would let me.” Daen said. “I would help you with the trials you face. I would stay…”

“Daen I don’t just want your help, I want your love. Let me take away the pain you feel.” He said as he wiped away a tear from her cheek. “Sometimes you’re like glass. I feel like I could break you. Let me keep you safe from the world outside. I would be your shield, let me bind you to me, even though I know it is selfish and greedy of me.”

“Andras.” She said, having no other words.

“You finally said it.” He said.

“I haven’t said anything yet?” She said confused as he reared up over her she stood up as he did and found herself uncomfortably close to him.

“You called me by my first name, did you realize that? If you mean to say no you had better run now little one else I don’t know what I will do.” He said as he lifted her chin with his fingers leaning in as his argent gaze trapped hers. She was trembling. Her lips parted and she closed her eyes as he closed the distance between them kissing her before she could even hope to answer. “If you say you don’t love me now I will not believe you little one. I make no excuse for loving you so ferociously, for binding my spirit with such a warm, intelligent, and courageous soul as yours. Do you love me Daen?” Daen’s her knees were turned week from quite another reason to fatigue. His voice was steady and soft, his lips close to her ear. That his words were a heady mix of tender and rough. That he said that at the moment his hands were securely wrapped around the small of her back and chest was pressed against hers the thin material of his shirt was scant protection from the fierce beating of his mighty heart.

Daen’s hand splayed over the heavy muscle of his chest, over his heart. “I love you.”

“Did you feel how my heart leapt little one?” Her dark lord smiled.

“Silver tongue.” Daen chided, as she unlaced his black shirt laying it open to where the defined muscles of his stomach began. “I expect you talk to all your women like this.”

“No.” He smiled wolfishly, “Just to you. I have to use every weapon I have against you my love.” He pressed forwards and Daen found herself sprawled out on the bed, he had pinned both her hands above her and his knee parted her legs. Darcia lifted his lips from hers and looked down at her, his blue eyes were almost thoughtful, His hand ran down her body reverently, his hands calloused now from wheelding a sword, and rains.

Daen said breathlessly as Lord Darcia opened her robe fully, pulling the sash off and flinging it aside. She lay sprawled beneath him, her hair in disarray. He admired the swell of her breast, the way it fitted in to his hand perfectly. He admired the shallow concave of her belly, and the narrowness of her waist, the flare of her hips and the strength of her legs.

“I have been imagining your beautiful self tangled in my grasp. Obedient to my desire wantonly splayed to accept the eager worship of my mouth everywhere on your body. Visions shameless, raw, as lick you, suck you, thrust in to you as I bring you to a thrashing crescendo. Being inside you with you standing and bent over, sitting astride me, lying beneath me. None of my imaginations compare…” Lord Darcia’s mouth had not been entirely taken up with his softly spoken promises. As he spoke he had been kissing his way down her body, sucking on the skin on her cavical, her already erect nipples and down lower.

His lips fluttered over her hip bone, and he nipped at the fleshier aria of her thigh. She looked up as him, but he only smiled and slipped off the bed, then pulled her legs to rest over his strong shoulders as he knelt. Daen gasped as he began to worship that most sensitive little bundle of nerves. His ministrations caused white hot heat to build in her body. His hands held her hips securely though she wanted to thrash and writhe, moans spilling past her lips and she was forced to twist her hands in the sheets as if in fear of flying off the bed. He chuckled deeply against her, the sound shedding a shiver up her spine. “My Lord I have not….. You need not….”

“Shush little one, I want to do this. I want to give you this.” He responded chuckling again, amused by how after all this time this act of worship upon her still made her so delightfully self-conscious. If it had not been his express will she would have refused but with no choice but to submit to him she relaxed and let him do as he will. And he would bring her pleasure, because now that she was his it would be over his dead body that anyone would touch her in this way again. And it was this joyously possessive thought he once more applied himself to the act of driving her to the very heavens with gusto. She broke, with a whimper and a sigh like a sob her legs tightening and holding him to her.

He stood and watched her as she lay with closed eyes still panting the pale afternoon light casting her in its rosy glow so that her skin shone like pearl and seashell. When Daen opened her eyes she almost moaned looking at the sight before her. Lord Darcia was a hansom man, but with his eyes gleaming predatorily, and his lips slightly shining with moisture he was irresistible. He was all deep shadow and cool stone, his skin not the pale alabaster but now healthily tanned from his time outdoors, black clothes and hair of deepest night. His breaches were skin tight, and did little to conceal the evidence of his ardour for her. She knelt up and twisting her hand in his shirt she drew him towards her.

Lord Darcia was obedient to the pressure moving closer. Daen raising herself up higher twined her arms about his neck offering her mouth to his as she began to ache for his frame against hers. Her hand cupped his desire, following the way it was forced by his tight breaches to curve up towards his body. He hissed at the sensation and threw his head back. Daen’s patience shortly disappearing reached for his shirt and un-tucking it from his waist she with his help drew it over his head. Then as he kissed her deeply again, bending her back and bringing his arms about her so that they were pressed bare chest to bare chest she undid the thong binding his hair so that it fell in raven waves down his naked shoulders and back. And it was with trembling hands that she undid the laces on his breaches as he watched her with eyes of deep blue fire, as her fingers found his hips to pull his breaches down she felt the slight quiver of anticipation through his body.

They kissed, and he supported her back with his strong arm. Her hands stroked and kneaded his firm muscles, the solidness of his shoulders, the corded strength of his arms, the more pliant firmness of his rear, and the dips of his back. He growled Daen once more found herself flat on her back with him pinning her deep in to the mattress.
Lord Darcia’s fingers slid in to her, testing her readiness for him and she moaned before biting in to his shoulder to stifle the cries she wanted to utter. Darcia lowered himself as Daen’s arms came to twine about him as he slid his fingers out of her and guided his desire in to her, gliding in like silk. Daen gasped her eyes closing tight. Darcia lowered his mouth to hers, he would never have enough of kissing her. He kissed her until she was swooning, and still he had not moved within her. Daen shifted her hips, her passion demanding.

Her dark lord smiled in to his kiss, and the hand that had guided his length in to her now began to rub in small circles at the revelled petals of her core. She bucked beneath him, but his heavy muscled body held her down, pinning her deep in to the mattress. She could not escape him, all she could do was moan and pant as he continued to kiss her lips, her eyes, her neck and whisper in her ear. “Everyday beneath the studied calm of my appearance I have become a seething cauldron of lust for you. You feel it don’t you, inside you, the desire I feel for you? Like my love for you, my desire is omnipresent and fiercely dominant in my consciousness. Say my name little one, say it again.”

“Why?” She gasped, “Oh please move I can’t take this any more!”

“Because it thrills me, because it move’s through me like an earthquake Daen.”

“Oh!” She moaned. “Andras please!”

He groaned and kissed her hard. She came once more, her walls clenching him hotly. Her body arching up in to him, he clutched her to him, whispering in ear although all she could hear was the rush of blood charged like lighting pounding through her body. She must have cried out in her ecstasy for her voice felt raw when she tried to speak again as lord Darcia at last began to move. Sensitive from her previous climaxes she bucked beneath him, and voiced her passion, feeding his.

He moved slowly, savouring the feel of her still rippling about him. Darcia normally so quiet found himself gasping and moaning his passion bursting forth from deep within him. From shallow he moved to deep, he moved languidly roiling over her, but gradually as his need mounted he speed up moving deeper within her. Her nails scored in to his back, encouraging him on. Daen was not passive beneath him, she raised her hips to meet his, warping her legs around him, holding him close to her. Darcia too held her tightly as if they could become one being that way. She was his dearest possession, his very heart, and he only felt peace when he felt her alive and against him, nothing separating them.

There was the temptation to open his mind to hers once again, but he managed to keep himself closed off. The sent of her, the feel of her, the sound of her voice –of their bodies moving together, her softness and feminine power was chasing back the seething darkness of rage and loneliness still in his mind. When he had heard that not only his mother but Daen too were threatened at Rhayd he had nearly turned such was the strength of his feelings. Had Bherith not been across the room he would have drawn upon his swords demonic powers and on wings of swift vengeance have rendered the attackers apart with blade, tooth and claw. Daen by some miracle had accepted some of the darker and less palatable aspects of his life and nature but he would not subject her to that again though he had to admit that he did not know whether he could keep that promise. He would never harm her again. However if he was forced to kill again he would, without mercy – for Darcia knew little of mercy, he knew of justice, iron and unbending justice. Love was perhaps his only virtue.

Pleasure raw and elemental built through his body. Every limb it seemed was infused with it from his toes to his scalp. Everywhere she touched him made a bright point of more sensation, sensation that was driving him to the edge of reason, the edge of the universe and she was there with him. Her tongue laved at his neck, tasting his sweet, her teeth nipped and scored where she could reach. Her body squeezed him tightly, as if she was trying to draw him in further. He was waiting holding on, the pain exquisite as his body demanded release. “Come little one, please… I cannot hold on much longer.”

“Just a little….. harder…”

Lord Darcia shook his head and closed his eyes, smiling grimly as he pushed harder. Daen’s hands reached up and twined themselves in his hair just before she convulsed up with his name upon her lips. That was all he could take and it was with profound relief that he let go spilling himself in to her with a horse roar of his own.

“Gods,” he laughed after a moment roiling on to his back still trying to catch his breath. “Oh little one.” He took her arm and held her close to him.

Daen sighed, shifting away from the centre of the bed and closer to him laying in her side and letting her leg fall over his hip. “Perhaps it’s a good thing that we are getting married, once the servants have changed the sheets no one is going to believe that we are not together.” She paused and looked at him suddenly. “You know, you have not actually asked me yet.”

“So little one will you marry me?”

Daen rolled her eyes, Lord Darcia was perhaps not the most romantic of all men.

“Before I agree I need to know a few things?”

“Oh?” He said guardedly. “And what do you need to know before you er.. commit yourself to me?”

Daen was undeterred by the coldness that had crept in to her dark lord’s expression.” Well you see I have been plagued by the courtiers, Lady Penn in particular.”

“Lady Penn?” Lord Darcia who had been expecting something much worse laughed. “I remember her she was one of my mother’s cronies, a veritable antique. Do you want me to be rid of her?”

“Do you mean that?” Daen let out of a chuckle of her own. She shook her head. “No, but promise me that when we are married I will not have to have a lady escort me when ever I am alone with another man?”

“I see no need for an escort.” Darcia smirked and took possession of her hand bending over and kissing it gallantly as he looked up at her with his eyes like thunder clouds and lightning. “If any man should try anything untoward with you I would kill them.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” He flashed a smile baring his eye teeth.

“You would to.” Daen answered dourly.

Darcia’s face went solemn and he took possession of her hand, “So little one, my precious Daen, will you marry me? Our life won’t be easy. But I love you and I will do my best to make you happy and provide for our family.”

“I will.” Daen smiled. He kissed her just a smile broke across his face. When he finished plundering her mouth she asked. “Our family?”

“Children.” He answered her as he loomed above her again, his arousal swelling against her leg. “I expect at some point we will have some.”

Daen giggled, “At this rate it will probably be sooner than later.

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A/N:


Luinil_Telcontar: Hope you enjoyed this. I was trying to make Darcia extra hot! Looking forward to your new fic by the way.

luv_bug: I’m glad you think Darcia is sexy, I do to. Thank you for the review.

K.G, thanks for the review, they mean a lot. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.