[DL-K] No Wine as Sweet

* * * * *

NRPG:  well, since I've written K'drik out of the main storyline for now, I 
needed someone to play, and Susan wanted someone else to be the bad guy for 
a while...   *chuckle*


* * * * *

Fabrice sat in the deepening shadows of the old rockfall, nibbling a roll 
taken as an afterthought from the dining hall.  She'd been too nervous to 
eat a proper meal, but she knew she would need to keep her strength up for 
what was to come.

It had been subtle, his signal...  a single, significant glance from across 
the Green, in passing.   To anyone else it would have looked like nothing 
more than a polite nod... but his eyes challenged hers, his eyebrows 
slightly raised as if daring her to refuse the call.

She almost wished she had been mistaken, that he would not be coming...  as 
much as she thrilled to the idea of being L'talin's special, favored one, 
she hadn't completely recovered from the previous evening.  Him taking her 
healing energy had been the worst of it; it had invigorated him, but had 
left her poor body too spent to heal itself normally.

She slumped back against the stones and closed her eyes, briefly.  She ached 
- in body, to rest, to recover... but she ached in her heart as well, to be 
held again, for *him* to tell her he wanted and needed her...

She started awake at his touch on her arm.  It was deep twilight now; how 
long had she dozed?   He smiled at her, completely self-assured.

"Very good, my pet," he murmured in her ear, leaning close.  "I knew that 
you would not refuse me..."

He kissed her then, thoroughly, and for a moment Fabrice's hopes rose...  
perhaps now that she had proven herself to him, he would be more gentle with 
her, perhaps even tender...  she returned the kiss passionately, hungrily.  
She wanted him *this* way, wanted him to want *her* like this...

Sudden pain in her forearm made her break off the kiss with a gasp.  Looking 
down, she saw his right hand gripping her left wrist tightly, twisting it at 
an awkward angle.

L'talin leered at her, lips still moist.  "No, pet.  That's not the way this 
game is played.  You take what I give you, and no more."  Before she could 
respond his lips found hers again, and the kiss was firm and probing this 
time, a gesture of dominance rather than warmth.

Fabrice moaned slightly and drew back, head reeling with the urge to draw 
another breath, but the movement earned her another painful twist, and he 
made sure it was long indeed before he actually turned her loose to lean 
dizzily against the rockfall, panting shallow breaths.

"There are things I need to know about you," he said coolly, pacing around 
her as a predator taking its time with wounded prey.  He casually drew a 
long knife from his riding boot and worked the point under his fingernails, 
not even deigning to look at her.

The blade glinted with moonlight, and Fabrice stifled the urge to scream.  
It wouldn't do any good anyway.  What was he about to ask her?  A surge of 
panic gripped her as she wondered if Lazara had let her secret slip?  
Perhaps he intended to find out what her dragon had learned via her unusual 
talent...?

He surprised her again by rolling up his own sleeve and drawing a shallow 
cut along his upper arm.  "Heal me," he commanded.

She gaped, partly with surprise that he'd intentionally wounded himself, but 
mostly with relief that the questioning wasn't headed the direction she had 
feared.  "What?" she said dully, trying to gather her wits.

He grabbed her again and pulled her away from the rock upon which she was 
resting.  "I shall not ask twice.  Do as you were told," he intoned, forcing 
her hands toward the bleeding scratch.

Her healing strength had already begun to flow to him as soon as he had 
grabbed her.  "I - I can't," she stammered.  "It doesn't work like that."

"Then how does it work," he demanded.  "I need to know how far I can rely on 
your aid..."

"I - I help others by lending them my strength," she explained, looking into 
his eyes, seeking approval.  "I can help others rally when their own 
strength begins to fail.  But I can't knit wounds closed or un-break bones.  
I just give the other person more strength to carry on.  That's all."

"That's all," he repeated, wiping the trickle of blood from his arm.  Her 
dose of healing strength had removed the pain from the shallow wound, and it 
had already stopped bleeding, but it had not miraculously vanished.  "I had 
rather expected there must be limits to it."  He walked a few paces away 
from her and selected a huge rock.  Grunting slightly with the strain, he 
hefted it to chest level, then above his head.

Fabrice recoiled, thinking for a moment he meant to cave in her head with 
it, but instead he lowered it back to chest level, then raised it again, 
several times in succession, until his arms and chest quivered with the 
strain.  At last he dropped the stone and approached Fabrice and took her in 
his arms, grinning with calculated anticipation.

He drew in his breath slowly as he felt the aches and pain from his recent 
exertion melt away, dissolved in the blissful tide of her strength flowing 
into his body.  The fact that she wilted at his touch only made the ritual 
sweeter.

"Why...?" she struggled to get out.  "There was no need..."

"On the contrary.  One must build a thirst before one can slake it, and 
there is no wine as sweet as the nectar of your life pulsing through me."

"But..."

"Hush," he said, stopping her lips with his fingertips.  "I could take 
pleasure in your pain, in hearing your screams, again, as I did before.  
After all, other women scream.  You are not unique in that regard."

He wet his lips, smiling wickedly.  "However, I have never before felt 
anything like your healing before.  It is enthralling, intoxicating.  I must 
have more.  I must have every ounce you can give me."  He stood and walked 
back to the boulder and hefted it again.

With that he exerted himself again and again, each time tiring himself to 
the point of collapse, only to replenish himself at her merest touch.  He 
would take as much from her as he pleased.  Whenever he wanted to feel the 
sweet rush of her healing, she would be there for him.  She was his.

At last Fabrice could no longer stand.  Slumped to the ground, she begged, 
"Please, no more...!"

"Now, my pet, you know better than that.  All that you are, is mine.  All 
that you have, is mine to take, should I choose to do so."  He caressed her 
shoulder with a hand wracked by soreness, only to sigh with pleasure as he 
drew from her ebbing strength once more...

"I wonder," he continued, smiling as she whimpered at his touch.  "If we 
continued this long enough, would you die, or merely pass into death-like 
slumber?  Shall we try it and see...?"

Fabrice had neither strength nor will left to respond.

"...perhaps we shall, another time.  It would be a shame to break the vessel 
that holds my nectar just because I was too greedy for another taste.  There 
*will* be other tastes, my pet.  As many as *I* require."

He kissed her again, no more tenderly than before, and her vision began to 
swim as she felt yet more of her life energy pulled into his limitless 
appetite.  Her eyes closed of their own accord, and the world spun beneath 
her...

Consciousness fading, she dimly heard him say, "...remember, you are mine.  
Should you forget that, *she* will be the one to pay the price, and *you* 
will live on in madness and sorrow without her...."


It was fully dark when she awakened again, her limbs numb from lying so long 
against the cold stone.  Alone, and left behind.


* * * * *

NRPG:  Tag, Carina!   How does Fabrice feel about her new 'lover' now?  And 
whatever will Lazara say...?


Respectfully submitted,

Dave Lankford, aka:
K'drik & Jacinth, Keldarra
Ada & Xye, Telnor
Arkt'han & Auram, Xylian/Marrid
Roderick the fugitive, Xylian/Marrid
& Ens. Karmryn Glavo, USS DAMOCLES


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