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Flayn had been held in that dark basement for days, but this was the first time her kidnapper had threatened her. The immense armored figure of the death knight loomed over her from behind, the blade of his sword under her chin.
“They’re coming,” he murmured. “I might kill you.”
The saint froze, her chin tilted up and her body acutely aware of the cold sting of the metal against her unprotected throat. She didn’t dare even swallow as she took soft and shallow breaths.
Days she’d been a captive, shivering down here in the darkness away from her father and her friends. Days with the only comfort being the presence of the man who took her down here and his unusual…kindness wasn’t the right word. Geniality?
But now her blood ran cold as the blade against her flesh. It was a sharp reminder that no matter how gentle he’d been during her confinement, she was still a hostage at his complete mercy.
“If you must.” she whispered with a dignity she couldn’t quite feel.
“I spill blood often, and without regret,” he said, his voice ringing hollow in his helm. “It calls to me.”
The sounds of footsteps and murmurs grew closer down the corridor. The death knight held her tightly to his armored form, one arm across her chest, while the other held the blade steady.
Flynn tensed against his armored body, letting her eyes close as she swallowed, feeling the blade draw a drop of blood from her throat.
“Would you regret killing me?” She asked in a near whisper before Flayn closed her eyes, willing herself to be ready for whatever came. She wasn’t, she was sure she was shaking ”Never mind, Sir Death Knight. I understand a call you must answer, but I do hope it’ll come another day for the both of us.”
The Death Knight’s fingers trembled on her chest, and the blade dug just a little into the flesh of her neck without quite breaking the skin.
“Perhaps.”
It wasn’t clear which it was in answer to.
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Written for @febuwhump day 17 prompt: Hostage situation.
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