Very adult themes! M for a reason!

Violence and Rape!

Chapter One- The gloom, the wicked, and the broken

"Again!" he demanded of the girl on the floor before him.

She timidly moved to her feet to stand before him. Every muscle screamed in protest as she stood and she had a strong inclination her hand may be broken. With the back of her opposite hand she wiped the blood from her nose and lips. Bringing the sword up before her, she readied her stance.

Raising his great broad sword once again and without hesitation brought it down on her hard and fast. She quickly defended with her own sword, but she was slow. The weight of the sword and her own aching muscles contributing to the delay. Her sword was only able to catch part of his blow and absorb very little of the hit, leaving the rest of his sword and power coming down on her collar bone. The break was heard before she felt it, but she knew better than to call out in pain.

The force from the hit brought her down to her knees. Her vision started to darken around the edges from the pain, but she would not give in. Kneeling with her sword up, barely able to stay balanced on her knee, she pushed against his sword trying to stand. Pain screaming through her body for her to give up and stay down. She would not. Nearly able to stand, his free hand connected across her face, the force from which threw her across the floor. She tried to stand again spitting blood from the reopened wound in her mouth. The darkness again trying to suffocate her as her world again tried to blacken. She had forgotten about his free hand.

"Stay," he signed. "We are done for the day. We will continue tomorrow, see you are fit."

She watched him turn to leave, head shaking in disapproval to match the disappointment in his voice.

"Yes, Father." was all she could manage before she finally succumbs to the darkness and passed out on the floor.

Sarah abolished the memory from her thoughts. That was a long time ago and she had become quit an accomplished swordsman since then. Those brutal training sessions with her father had given her strength and courage.

So why did she feel so nervous when father had summoned her?

She confidently walked down the gloomy corridor with her head held high. Father would be in the throne room. As she walked she could hear the whispers and tapings of those hidden in the shadows. They took great care to avoid her path as she glided by them in her long black skirts.

As she passed by the large window that lined the corridor she glanced out over the horizon. The sky was gray and meek with large threating storm clouds blotting out the pale yellow sun. This was how every day was: cold, dark, dank, and constantly threating misery.

The gremlins loved it. Ahead she saw a practically brazen one dash from one side of the corridor to the other before sealing itself in the shadows. Slimy green thing with its stump of a tale tucked between its legs. Sarah had no love for the gremlins. She disliked them as much as they disliked light. Thinking them nasty horrid creatures causing calamity were possible.

She couldn't understand her dislike for them, her subjects, it was just always there. This was her home and yet she had never seen "eye-to-eye" with this place. The dark and gloom she didn't love. Perhaps this was why her father…

She let the thought slip from her mind not liking to think about it. This was how life was and there was no sense in dwelling on the fact. Being the daughter of a king, future heir; she would do her duty without complaint…as she has always done. But she would never let the fire die inside her. Underneath she would always be Sarah.

Her breast rose as she took a large breath to steady herself before she entered. Placing her hand on the large ornate doors and pushed, they came open easily. With her chin held high she marched into the throne room with an air of confidence, stopping just before the steps to the throne throwing herself into a low curtsy, "Your Majesty, you have summoned me?"

"You may rise, Lady Sarah." He said with the same indifference as he would to a common peasant. Sarah had become accustomed to the lack of warmth in his voice.

Sarah rose not bringing her eyes to look up, but trained them on the stairs just before her. She couldn't look at him, that would be disrespectful and she didn't want to incur his wraith.

"I have made arrangements for you to wed. To have a suitable husband to rule the throne and that you may produce a prober heir with." Sarah couldn't help but notice he stressed the word proper.

Her father's disappointment was never concealed from her. She had suffered and bleed in her attempts to please him, but she was still just Sarah in the end. Perhaps he knew she had no love of the way things are here.

Her mother had been killed when she was young. Sarah was never told nor was she permitted to ask. She knew questing on her part of any topic only enraged her father. Others were too afraid to speak about it when Sarah asked on the particulars of her mother's death. The only fact she was certain was that her death was not by natural means.

The king had tried for other heirs; the ruler he had hoped, parading ladies in and out of the castle, insulting the memory of Sarah's mothers. Conceiving was hard for the Fey and once a lady was unable to give him what he wanted she was encouraged to leave. By that point the lady had more than enough dealing with her father to practically run away. Being queen was an honor in any realm, but one would have to be degraded to be willing stay here.

With all his attempts he was stuck with Sarah as his successor, or so she thought. He had never mentioned Sarah marrying nor had it ever been a topic for her. Sarah had always assumed she would take the throne and marry when she thought it necessary for power or gain.

"May I ask who my betrothed is?" If this would please her father, she would wed. Perhaps, she thought, this way was an out for her. Her father could choose who took the crown by marriage and thus he would relinquish his attempts of bending her to his will. She may never grow to love her husband, but she saw a type of freedom in the arrangement.

He gesture for someone to enter the room, "You may enter." Sarah knew who it was, she could sense his presence, the evil in him as he sauntered from the shadows.

"Father, no!" She looked up to him pleading.

Her father's eyes held surprise for a split second; she had never blatantly refused him. They quickly reverted back to their characteristic cold and anger as he stood and approached her. Once upon her struck her hard against her cheek with his hand, "How dare you embarrass me and disrespect your future husband!"

Sarah stood motionless, a stark contrast to the turmoil building inside of her. She did not wish to marry this…this…monster, but she didn't want to feel her father's fury, "As you wish father."

Her father curtly nodded his head at the man behind her and then looked down at her, "You are dismissed."

Sarah bowed then turned to leave. She walked passed her betrothed without giving the slightest interest in acknowledging him as he move toward her father. She needed air and time to think.

….

Sarah stood upon the cliffside pavilion overlooking the sea. This was her favorite spot in the entire Gremlin Castle. Behind her was the abysmal castle, before her the large expanse of sea far below. She took in a deep breath of the salty air, with this view she could almost image there was nothing behind her. Making it easy to image that her life was open, inviting, and…free. The breeze was cool against her heated face, but did little to ebb her anger.

Her ire began to rise as she sensed him coming, "My dearest Sarah, as beautiful and cold as the sea before you." He said stepping from the shadows.

"Lord Dylon. I would be lying if I said I was delighted to see you."

"Now my Lady, is that any way to speak to your beloved?" his voice deep and alluring.

Sarah couldn't deny he was handsome: tall, strong, and blessed with fetching features. He was skilled a worrier as cruel and she had heard of his prowess in bed. Not that she had ever been tempted. He was her father's champion, her father's Black Hand, and only equal in combat. He would be a prize for any woman…but her. Rumor of his dark deed spread even beyond this realm to others. She had heard of the horrid things he had done in the name of her father; murder, blackmail, torture, to say the least. She herself had witnessed a number of the cruelties in his treatment of the gremlins and commoners. She had more than once seen a servant leave his proximity with black eyes and broken limbs. His deeds whispered about in dark showdown turned her stomach.

He came to stand beside her. Sarah glanced over at him, his midnight shoulder length hair dancing in the wind. Her cool green eyes catching his piercing blue, "I will never love you." She spat at him.

"So you say now." A cruel smirk creeped up on his face, "but you will learn. I may have to beat and torture you, but your love for me will emerge in the end." As he said this he brought his hand up to play with one of her soft brown curls.

Sarah made a sound or revulsion and slapped his hand away, "Don't you dare touch me!"

He gripped her wrist and squeezed causing her pain, so much strength in such a small effort. His other hand latching a handful of hair and forcing her head back to look him in the eyes. His mouth inches from hers. Through clenched teeth he said to her, "You are mine now, Sarah, and I may do as I please." She could feel the whisper of the promise against her lips.

"My father will know of this." She swore to him.

A cruel daunting chuckle escaped his lips, "Your father has already given his consent." With that he forced his lips down hard on Sarah's lips. Sarah struggled against him pushing and clawing with her free hand, but he only tightened his vice on her. She could feel her lips bruising under the intensely of his kiss. Sarah attempted to voice her anger, but he took this as an invitation to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

Sarah took the opportunity and bit down hard. He yelped in pain and pulled back. He released her hair and used his hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. His anger boiled over as he reached out to strike her. His fist connected with her and she went down hitting the ground hard, blurring her vison and slowing her responses.

Sarah was in a daze when she felt him on her thrashing and tearing at her dress and bodice as his hands moved along her exposed body. Her panic started to rise as she tried to fight him, but he easily over powered her. He was much stronger than her and he had years of experience against her. She tried to snap herself out of the daze, but she was on the verge of passing out as blood dripped from her wound bleeding freely. She felt relived as the weight of him removed from her chest. Her relief rapidly turned to horror when she realized he was undoing his britches.

Fresh terror rushed over her as she tried to fight back with all her being as he pinned her arms down approve her head. Again with no avail. He had forced her legs apart with is knees and settled himself between them. It was seconds later Sarah felt him force himself inside her. He groaned out in pleasure as he began to find his rhythm, all the time Sarah fought, small waves of pain crashing over her with each stroke. The harder she fought the harder and more eager he became. He was nearly at his climax when he once again reached out and struck her. Sarah's world went black as the last thing she heard was him voicing the release of his finally pleasure.

Sarah was only out for moments. When she returned to consciousness all she could make out was the blurred figure of his silhouette standing above her. He was cleaning himself off with a bit of her tore dress. He threw the soiled piece down at her, "You did well Sarah. I look forward to our wedding night." With that he turned to leave.

Sarah felt alone, more alone then she had ever felt. She could fell the tears leaking from her eyes and she angrily brushed them away. Crying was something you did when there was nothing left to do. She moved gingerly to her knees. She had felt much pain through her years, but this was new.

She willed herself to stand. 'No more!' She thought to herself. She had given her all to them. To be the future queen they wanted! Bleed and broken she has only given, but she would not give them her will. A smile touched her lips, "They will never break my will." She said aloud.

Each step was agony as she gradually made her way to stand on the precipice of the cliff. She flung her arms wide feeling the breeze blowing the tatters of her dress about her. She looked up at the pale sun closings her eyes; she took a deep breath, and then let herself fall forward.

"I wish…"

I know, I know! I apologize: I'm so sorry! How could I rape Sarah?! I'm not a horrible person. I promise it will get better…maybe. Enjoy my second fan-fiction! I love hearing for you guys!