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The Killing Moor

By: LorandTab
folder M through R › Pitch Black
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 14
Views: 2,674
Reviews: 2
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Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Black, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Chapter 9

Part 9

***********
Guenivere picked at the food on her plate, her complexion pale and pasty, as she watched the new kitchen maid serving her husband and her lover's son from underneath dark red lashes. They spoke easily, ignoring her presence as usual. But this morning, it mattered little. Before long, she felt it again … the wave of sickness that flooded her entire being. "I beg your pardon, my liege," she whispered quickly as she rose and flew from the room. Pushing past the servants, she ran through the kitchen and out the open door, finding a private place to expel the contents of her stomach.

Johns looked to Duncan. "She is ill?"

Duncan nodded, his eyes adoring Johns as usual. "It seem so."

A wicked pleasure took hold of Johns then and he pushed away from the table. "I'll take my leave now, Duncan." Moving to the other man's side he leaned slowly down sealing their lips.

There was a heady moan from Duncan and then Johns was gone, striding from the room with the sure steps of the man he was becoming.

* * * * * * * * *

Guinevere leaned her back against the wall behind her, her body thankful for the firmness of the stone as her eyes closed. Her head swam as the nausea dissipated slowly, her hand moving to the flatness of her stomach.

"I know of your secret, mi'lady." Johns malevolent smile twisted his features, the light creating a sinister cast. "Have you spoken of it with him?"

Her eyes flew open and her head whipped up. With a huge sigh she walked past him toward the stables, needing the fresh air. He hand moved to smooth the long, silken tunic that swirled at her ankles, her body shivering in the chilling breeze. "Johns, I haven't the strength for your riddles now."

He moved quickly behind her, his hand like a striking snake. Grabbing her arm he whirled her to face him. "Make no mistake, Guinevere, there are no riddles here. The question was plain enough. Have you spoken of this?" He released her arm and jabbed at her stomach none too gently. "Does he KNOW?" Johns yelled into her face.

Her hand moved again to her concave belly. "Go and finish your breakfast, Johns. There is nothing to speak of save ill prepared food of last night." Her nerves were raw and she needed escape.

"Nothing? Nothing you say?" he continued to shout and then his voice dropped to low hiss. "Nothing save the night you slipped into my father's chamber upon his return. Oh, pray tell me … was it nothing that you fell like a whore to your back in the stables of Dovanshire and was ridden well that day?"

Her eye widened, her hand flying to her mouth. "You … you were there?"

"Of course I was there. I saw you spread your thighs. I heard every whore's moan. AND I know you have conceived," he growled.

The soft mist turned into a light rain as she stood there, eyes focused on his. She backed away slowly, the expression on his face frightening her beyond reason.

"You had best run, mi'lady. Run to your lover for when I spread the word to your husband he will deal you death of the most violent kind." Johns laughed at her fear, using his barbs to compound it. He would have Duncan and he would be rid of her intrusion into his life once this was heard.



* * * * * * * *

The loud sound of hoof beats thundered through the air as the rider approached Dovanshire. The long red curls flying behind her head and hunter green woolen cloak spread like wings in the wind left little doubt as to who the rider could be. Practically falling from the tall, black mount, she tripped forward, her knees failing the strength to hold her erect. Tears streamed from her eyes as one word tore from her lungs. "RIDDICK!!"

Riddick gently patted the tall stallion's neck, big hands smoothing across the sleek coat, his attention riveted on the animal as it snorted in agitation. Smiling, he knew the animal would have preferred a long run along the moors but he hadn't the time. The keep was near finished and he wanted to see to the last of it before fall wrapped cold hands around the land. He was suddenly aware of a warmth inside him, a feeling sparked by a familiar presence. Then he heard it, his body tingling with the need of her. Riddick stepped fthe the stable with the shouting of his name, his heart racing as he recognized Guinevere's voice. Seeing her stumbling towards him, he rushed to her side. "What is it? What's happened?" he asked, taking in her distraught condition.

In her emotional, confused condition, she kept a slight distance from him. She had no choice but to tell him. But fear gripped her. Would his words from before ring true? Or would he be angry with her? "Johns … he knows." A hitch caught in her voice as tears fell harder. "He saw us, Riddick. In the stables."

Riddick stood hand splayed across her back confused. "He spoke of it to you?"

She nodded, a small hiccup tearing from her. "He … he also knows …" Her eyes raised to his pleadingly. "Riddick, I'm with child! With your child!"


Riddick stood gapping at her for a moment, wanting it to be true and fearing it wasn't. "By God's grace, with child! Are you certain?" His eyes gentled for a moment as they traveled her body, knowing there would be no sign of it but needing to see for himself.

"Very certain." Her eyes lowered. "I've not had my cycle when expected and … and the morning illness has set." Tears began again, not wanting to bring trouble of any kind to his life. "It was when I was ill that Johns followed me." Her words became veritable sobs. "He was so menacing, Riddick! He told me that his is to inform Duncan!" Her eyes became wild as her hands grasped the hard strength of his biceps, nails digging into his flesh. "He will kill me, Riddick! And worse, he will then seek YOU!"

"Then it shall be." He pulled her to him, ignoring the slight sting of the small wounds she inflicted. "You'll not return to Ruenmire. Dovanshire is your home from this moment forth." He inhaled deeply as he buried his face against her neck. "A child, Guinevere. Our child," he whispered, love for her swirling through his body to wrap around his heart and claim a place for all time there.

He refused to think about his son in that moment, to think of his betrayal, of his cruelty. There was time enough for that when the reckoning came, when he would either reach reason with Duncan or deal him death.

Her body turned limp then, falling into his arms and sliding her arms around his body, drinking in his strength. "Our child, Riddick! Conceived in love and passion!" Her tear became those of happiness as she allowed herself to be enveloped in his strength and compassion. "I love you, Richard Riddick. For always and forever."

"This is my vow to you, mi'lady, my love. You are mine now and forever and in love I will keep you until we are old and draw our last breath together. My honor will be to see to your every need and guard you from all ills. My love is forever and never waning." He claimed her lips then sealing their fated, sealing the fate for generations to come.

* * * * * * *



Johns stormed into the great hall, his emotions boiling over, his hatred and jealousy at a fevered pitch. "Duncan!..." he shouted, rushing towards the other man as he stood.

"Johns?" The look of concern on the older man's face tore at his heart, he loved him so very much and that was the only regret he would feel for his words.

"It is your wife..." He began, reaching for Duncan's thin fingers threading his into the grasp. "She's a whore...."

Duncan's features twisted into a mask of fury and Johns took a slinking step backwards. Noticing, Duncan soothed Johns, his free hand tangling in John's long locks and pulling his warm wet lips up to his, his tongue sampling the heaven he knew Johns to be. Slowly he pulled away knowing Johns would never be the one to do it. "Never fear … I find no fault with you, my love," he whispered sensually. "Now, tell me of my wife's treachery."

"She's been with my father, bedding him..." He held up two fingers. "At least. My eyes watched them. And now the sickness...." He growled, wanting Duncan to carve the child he knew was growing inside her out. "She's not had her flow for months. Ask...."

"There's no need to ask. Your word is enough. Anything that comes from these lips...." He dipped his head again, capturing Johns' mouth and claiming it for his own and then pulling away. "Must surely have come from the heavens and be filled with truth." He pulled Johns against him, their heights near equal and he sighed feeling the young man's erection against him. His own member leapt to life in response.

"I will reclaim my honor. That is cen …bn …but now is not the time." He rubbed suggestively against Johns and smiled with the moan that came from his lover. "Shall it be here or my chamber, my love?"

"Oh,`Dwncan, there will be no waiting. I'll have it here." Johns' mouth went quickly to his neck suckling and lapping, drawing moan after needful moan from the other man.

Duncan maneuvered them back to the table, his hand slipping between them to stroke Johns quivering length through the thick tartan. "My love, I do believe you need me," Duncan whispered as Johns fondled him in return. "Now......This moment.." Johns practically begged, inching to his knees in front of Duncan, lifting his kilt.

"No...Not...in this manner, Johns....." He Grabbed Johns and pulled him to his feet. "We shall have us a fine ride here in this place."

He knew what that meant and he trembled with anticipation. Duncan turned him and pushed his chest to the table, lifting his kilt, pushing it far upon his back. Johns' fingers clutched at the edges of the table as he felt warm wet kisses trailed against the rounded globes of his rear.

"Please, Duncan...Please..." He hissed, rolling his hips against the rough would to gain any amount of friction he could.

"Patience, my love... Patience." He admonished, lifting his head and ripping his own kilt out of the way. He nestled his fully engorged staff between the two ivory cheeks, rubbinntlyntly.

"Duncan...I can't.....Please, do not make me...." Johns was reduced to whimpering his need, releasing his hold on the wood to push slightly off the table and stroke himself.

"Then, I'll not make you wait...Not make you hurt for me..." Duncan whispered, leaning across Johns' back.

With that he withdrew and dipped his finger into the clotted sweet pudding sitting nearby and placed them at Johns' entrance, slowly pushing inward, working the digits to stretch the tight portal.

"NOW! NOW, Duncan..." He slammed himself against the invasion of Duncan's fingers, his body trembling with pent up passion.

Duncan stroked himself fully erect, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers when Johns' pleas slammed fully into him, making des desire grow to a painful peak. Again, he withdrew and reached for the pudding slicking his member for easy passage. He paused at the tight ring of muscles for just a moment and took a deep breath, fighting his own body for control.

"You're mine, Johns. I love you as I've never loved a woman. I give you the one thing that is mine and mine alone. My heart." With that he plunged deep inside the gripping heat, hearing Johns shout of relief as if from miles away, blood rushing in his ears at the sheer bliss of being inside his love.

His control slipped and he began pounding into Johns, his body drawing taunt in an effort not to spill tocklyckly. But Johns was now begging and withering below, stroking himself until there was a hoarse shout of Duncan's name and Johns seed was flowing onto the stone floor at their feet.

Duncan thrust once more into the grip of Johns' body and arched his back, his own seed filling the well-used channel. "By the gods, Johns, I do love you. That I swear until my dying breath. " He collapsed across the younger man's back, melding them in an intimate and loving embrace.
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