Chapter Text
The Knight’s Cavalry had never been a merciful lot to the Tarnished. Heroes or paupers all fell to their swords, gone in the night with no corpse to be found.
Or so the rumors warned. Eve understood Margit's dying words with newfound clarity, the fell night would give her no quarter by the looks of the horsemen blocking her path across the bridge.
His shrouded horse reared back, hooves pawing at the cobblestone path in warning. Eve was on foot, wide eyed and hardly having the chance to draw her blade before they charged.
She swung, and her sword struck unyielding mail as their strong arm clotheslined her across the waist in a smooth motion. She yelped in surprise, sooner expecting that wicked looking sickle in his off hand to have cut her head or to cleave into her chest.
Instead, she felt the sharp epaulet adorning his shoulder dig into her stomach, and his arm kept an iron grip over her waist. The motions of the galloping horse made her sick from the sense of vertigo she suffered, and she clung tightly to him on instinct. She would have writhed or struggled if the fear of being dropped with a broken neck hadn't gripped her, and she strained to keep a grip on her swords even as he slowed his horse to a trot.
A strong hand tangled into her hair and wrenched her back to be sat astride his knees, her blades taken in one hand as he studied her intently. She couldn't make out his face through the slits in his helmet, and kept still as she whispered, "...Now comes the part where you kill me, yes?"
He shook his head, prying her sheathes from her waist and stowing the swords away. A strained noise left her throat in protest as she reached for them, only to have his hand close over her throat in warning.
Rough hemp was drawn over her wrists, and she tried futilely to buck away from the knight until a cold voice droned on, "Enough, tarnished." She was tugged off of the saddle as he dismounted, pushed into the dirt and feeling hands close over her ankles. Her stomach dropped as rope roughly encircled her knees and ankles.
Lifted by the scruff of her cloak, she was held to eye level and issued a stern warning, "You can be dragged behind my horse, or draped across its saddle if you keep still. Do you have a preference, Tarnished?"
Eve slowly nodded, pointing to the saddle with her bound hands, "...The saddle."
"Good." He hoisted her over the back of his horse yet was not wholly content to only see her tied down it seemed. A stray bit of cloth was forced past her lips and tied at the base of her neck, a rudimentary gag, only then did he hum in satisfaction beneath his helm. Then, his palm slapped sharply against her backside, she hissed against the fabric and realized with mounting dread, he wasn’t taking her to Leyndell.
This knight had personal plans for his captive.
He was quick to set up camp, leaving Eve atop his horse as a fire was started and the tent pitched for the pair. Restlessly, she squirmed and tested her bounds until the hemp wore her wrists raw, and the energy she had was spent.
The knight let her tire herself out before he gripped her face with an appraising hum, and cut the ties securing her to his saddle. Eve was unceremoniously dragged from the horse and tossed to the grass, a knee braced against her back as his hands quickly unlaced her armor.
Then came her tunic, her pants, boots, and lastly her gloves. Blades of grass dug into her skin, and she writhed in naught else but her small clothes beneath him, still gagged and groaning against the fabric. Leather gloves were cool against her skin, particularly as his fingertips prodded at her backside and slipped beneath her underwear to trace along her slit. Her breath hitched sharply as the digit intruded into her channel, pumping and curling to make her writhe and buck her hips into the air.
He lifted her up by the shoulders, palming at her ample chest with a soft exhale, marveling at the tender and supple flesh appreciatively. The writhing of his captive was a delightful thing, and he dragged her over into the tent, where instead of her cheek being pressed into the dirt she was face first into a soft bear pelt. Deft hands undid her smallclothes, and though she didn’t see him, she suspected he removed his codpiece when she felt a throbbing heat poke at her thigh. Finally, her gag came loose with a rough tug, and he heard her unbridled cry as he thrust into her folds in a smooth motion. The girth of him was punishing and his cock delved deep into her channel as his hips smacked her backside.
The sound of flesh on flesh filled the tent with Eve’s strained groans, and husky grunts left the knight as he tightly gripped her hips. Rutting into her as a hound took a bitch, one wondered how long the man had gone without a bedmate, yearning and insatiable as he ravaged the maiden beneath him. He spilled once between her thighs, clutching her tightly as if that could ensure his seed took root. Yet he was not done with her.
Eve found herself on her back, calloused palms toying with her breasts as her legs were folded back, his cock thickening quickly after release to sink back into her with renewed fervor. Her cries grew frenzied in pitch, and could feel him pressing painfully into her cervix. As she gripped his shirt, she hissed through gritted teeth, “W-Why do this?”
He gave no reply, giving her thigh a firm squeeze as he rolled his hips against her backside with a stuttering groan, keen and sensitive as he continued his ravaging. The darkness continued to obfuscate his face, heavy thrusts bouncing Eve atop his cock in an appealing spectacle, delving his face against her breasts to nip and suckle.
Finally, her toes curled and she came undone, her walls greedily milking his cock for every last drop of seed he spilled into her. He did not withdraw from her soon. Eve was sat astride his lap as he began removing his armor. She flinched when a calloused hand ruffled her hair, "Perfect, you're perfect."
Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she lunged to bite before the knight's palm slapped her against her lips. The gag was replaced and Eve muffled into silence.
The sensation of seed spilling from her channel made her moan, and the knight withdrew his cock from her, content to lay with her clutched to his chest and his armor gone. She hadn't seen much of him in the darkness, yet she felt sharp teeth graze her shoulder and throat, skimming and searching. Then she saw red and he sank a bite deep into her flesh.
Her scream was guttural and he moaned into her flesh, marking her in a binding manner beyond bruises or shackles. As his arms wrapped around her waist, Eve trembled with the removal of his maw from delicate skin.
What was he?