Fair Maiden, Dark Knight

an Early Work by Han Li Thorn

© 2003 Han Li Thorn. All Rights Reserved.

Someone was moving around in her bedchamber. She pulled the covers up to her chin and peeped over the top, trying to make the intruder out in the pale moonlight which filtered through the gauzy window-hangings. She could just discern a tall, dark shape standing at the bottom of the bed.

"Who is it?", she whispered.

"Shhhh... I've come to carry you off, Princess."

"Don't be stupid. Get out now! If I scream, the guards will be here before I draw a second breath..."

"I don't think you want to scream. I think you want to be free as much as I want to rescue you."

"Are you ready to bet your life on that?"

"It's a bet I think I'll win, Princess. And after all, the prize is worth the risk."

The shadows seemed to hide a smile that was betrayed by the laughter in his voice, and a gentleness which belied his presence here. She decided that she liked that smile, liked him, and was faintly surprised to find that she didn't feel threatened - at least, if she did, it was a nice kind of threat, and one that sent a shivering thrill through her, starting at the crown of her perfect head and extending all the way down to her perfect toes. Despite herself, she felt a blush coming to her perfect cheeks.

He moved around to the head of her bed and she shrank away primly. "What are you doing here? You'll get yourself killed..."

"Ah, it's nice of you to worry about my health, Princess!", he said, and she heard laughter in his voice. Then he reached down and scooped her up, sheets, bedclothes, and all. She found her face close to his armoured shoulder, and smelt the oiled leather of his breastplate, and beyond that, his sharp, clean, male scent. A moonbeam caught him as she looked up at him, and she caught the gleam of his eyes from within the helmet, and some understanding seemed to pass between them. She shivered again. She knew she should scream - she was supposed to scream - but after all, he was bigger and stronger than her, and he had her in his arms, and she really didn't want him dead, and what was a Princess to do? As a compromise, she tried to wriggle free and ordered him firmly to put her down. Neither tactic worked; three long strides took them to the window, where he brushed past the hangings.

"Hold on tight!" he said as he swung out of the window and onto the waiting rope, and she knew this was her moment to break free, but somehow her arms had clasped themselves around his neck, and she was clinging to him, dangling below the casement. She closed her eyes tightly as they descended, yet although the wall was perilously high she never felt herself in any danger. Soon, she felt him alighting, and opened her eyes, and she was on her feet for a moment before he swung her up onto his night-dark charger and then mounted behind her.

She dozed in his arms as they rode, cocooned in the still-warm blankets from her bed. She didn't know where they were going or what the future held, but he held her securely, and for the first time in her life she had no choices to make, no orders to give - and no servants and courtiers to look disapprovingly when they thought her behaviour fell below the standards expected of a Princess of the Royal Blood. She was a captive, yet she felt free in a way she had never known before.

Dawn was peeping from behind the mountains by the time their pace slowed, and she awoke and saw that they were riding through rich, unfamiliar farmland, climbing a long, gentle rise towards a tower whose white stone walls glimmered faintly in the sun's first rays. They passed through the open gates into a tree-lined courtyard. He dismounted and lifted her down into his arms, then carried her inside and up the long, spiralling staircase and into a bedchamber.

The floor was strewn with rich rugs and furs. A welcoming fire crackled in the hearth. A table and two chairs were set out as if for supper, with meat and white bread, fruit and wine. Steam rose gently from a large copper tub before the fire. Against the far wall stood a massive four poster bed, scattered with bright silk pillows and soft furs.

He set her down, and removed his helmet and gauntlets, and unbuckled his sword belt and leaned it against the hearth. Her pleasure at discovering how much she liked his face surprised her - she hadn't even realised she'd been concerned about it. "Time to bathe you, I think, and then some breakfast, and then on to some more interesting things." His hands gently unwound the blankets from about her, and almost against her will she complied as he removed her night-dress, raising her arms as he lifted it over her head. He paused, looking her up and down, and smiled his approval. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the tub, where he bathed her from head to foot with infinite care and gentleness. "If you'd like to dry yourself before the fire while I bathe...", he said. She complied, gaze downcast modestly, hanging her wet hair before the fire and turning around to let her skin dry, doing no more than accidentally glimpse his hard, dimpled buttocks before he had finished bathing and wrapped himself in a soft woollen robe.

"There's a robe for you too, if you want it. But if you're warm enough, I'd much rather you stayed the way you are."

She knew she had no need to be ashamed of her body, but after all she was a Princess, and being naked while bathing was one thing, but there was no reason for it any more. "I'd like the robe, please".

Her modesty satisfied, he led her to the table, and pulled out a chair for her. When she was seated, he served her and poured two goblets of wine.

"Why have you brought me here?", she asked after a while.

"To free you from what you were. To save you from what you would have become. To give you what you need."

"And what do you know of what I need?"

"You need to belong to me, of course! Just as I need to belong to you. But it's only right that you belong to me first, isn't it? After all, I've done all the work so far. Come now, if you've finished, it's time for us to find our consummation."

"Consummation? You can't mean..." she protested as he took her by the arm, and brooking no resistance, led her to the bed.

"Lie down", he said, and somehow she was on the bed. "Put your hand here," and her wrist was against the oak bedpost, being bound with a soft, silk cord, and before she really knew what was happening her other wrist was secured as well, and her ankles were stretched - firmly but gently - between the posts at the foot of the bed.

He removed his robe and sat next to her. She felt the mattress shift as he leaned over, and then he was kissing her - a long, lingering, deep kiss that seemed to steal the breath from her body. When he pulled away, she looked up at him, her gaze lingering on his face, then moving down over his hard chest and tight stomach. "Please don't hurt me", she whispered.

He smiled. "May I open your robe?"

She nodded, helplessly, and felt the silk parting and spilling down her flanks, felt his mouth on hers again, his lips moving to her neck, caressing her until she could not help responding, arching her back away from the bed, then down to her breasts where they lingered again, before stealing softly over her stomach and, after unendurable ages of helpless yearning, to the kiss-sweet, Princess-scented, pit of her thigh. She felt an urgent, unfamiliar need, like a pure flame burning inside her, and suddenly it was most important that her hands were free so that she could hold him against her, and she struggled briefly before subsiding back into helplessness. His mouth teased her, moving with infuriating, exquisite slowness towards her essence, and she cried out with impatience and then moaned as she felt his tongue just entering her, and cried out again as it pushed deeper and found the secret place inside her.

Her world broke into waves, matching his rhythm, and a great tide of pleasure took her and swept her away from the bed, away from the chamber, so that she was conscious of nothing but warm delight. She came back slowly, ebbing into his presence, to find him waiting ready to kiss her and caress her gently as she came back to him, allowing her enough time for rest, but no more.

This time, he entered her himself, barely enough, not nearly as deeply as she wanted him, but he would go no further despite her pleading. Instead, he guided himself, circling and caressing just within her without truly penetrating, bringing her to the brink again and again, but refusing to allow her to cross it no matter how she begged him. At last, he relented and let her pass the threshold, and as she crossed over he thrust himself into her, filling her void in the very moment of her passion, spending himself within her as she abandoned herself to another all-encompassing wave of pleasure.

Slowly, through the warm afterglow, she became aware that she was free of her bonds, nestled in his arms, and he was smiling down at her.

"You were right," she murmured sleepily. "I belong to you."

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