Death Life and Love

Tiaret looked at Aedinius. Then she looked at Jareth. Then she looked at the man holding a sword into her neck. Not knowing what to feel or how to react, she fainted dead away, the large man that was pinning her to the wall catching her before she could hit the floor.

The sword tip at her throat nicked her as she fell, a trickle of blood sliding down her throat. Both Aedinius and Jareth looked on in horror.

"There are two skilled swordsmen standing between you and the door," Jareth said. "I don't know who you are, but you won't be leaving here alive."

"Actually," the man said, "there are a dozen skilled swordsmen between me and the door, and only two of them oppose me. And who said I'm in a hurry to leave?" He laughed at the two men.

They turned around to see ten men, all armed, waiting for the next move. Aedinius and Jareth were trapped and had no idea how to save Tiaret. Then they heard a loud ripping sound. They turned back to the older man to see he had Tiaret on the ground, her clothing ripped open, and his hands between her thighs. Both men became enraged and rushed him, but before they could reach him his soldiers attacked.

The room became a flurry of swords. Outnumbered five to one, Aedinius and Jareth fought off the men in an attempt to reach Tiaret. They stood back to back as the soldiers surrounded them, trapping them so they could not stop their leader from having his way with the woman. As they fought, they would catch glimpses of him raping Tiaret.

The man undid his trousers, releasing his fully hard member. He ordered his thug to hold her down as he slapped her across the face a few times, none too lightly, in order to wake her. He wanted her to know exactly what he was doing to her.

Tiaret woke and saw the man crawl up her body. He licked her skin as he did so, pausing briefly to bite each of her nipples, hard. She screamed loudly, but the sound was cut off when he sat on her chest and shoved his dick in her mouth.

Aedinius heard his wife scream. He whipped around, taking off the head of one of the soldiers. Two more stepped in front of him, and in his moment of distraction one made a clean slice in his off arm. He almost dropped his sword, but was able to recover when Jareth stepped up and defended him from their next attacks. They were back to back again, trying to fight off the men that kept them from their love.

The older man continued to assault Tiaret's mouth, violently fucking her face and reaching back to twist her nipples. She thrashed and tried to scream, but his dick prevented any sounds from coming out. His body bucked wildly and he screamed as he shot his cum down her throat. It gagged her and caused her to start choking.

Jareth tried to catch a glimpse of his beloved as he deflected the soldiers' swords. At the sound of her gagging, he tried to break from the pack and rush towards her. He was unsuccessful, as several men grabbed him and threw him to the floor. As one man rushed him, sword overhead and ready to strike, Jareth thrust his sword up, running him through then using his legs to vault the man into the soldiers behind him.

Aedinius went to help Jareth up, and from the low perspective he remembered his first battle at the arena against the Aboriginal man. He started swinging his sword wildly at the remaining soldiers' knees, hitting one or two with each swing. Jareth, still on his back, kicked out the injured mens' kneecaps, until they were all on the floor howling in pain.

Aedinius helped Jareth up and they turned towards Tiaret. They were men on a mission, and they were going to save the woman they love. To their horror, the older man, dick still limp from cumming, had the grip of his sword buried inside Tiaret's cunt, fucking her and abusing her with it. She was unconscious again, bloodied and bruised.

The thug holding Tiaret down rose to face the two men. Jareth was a large man, but the thug stood a good head taller than him. Jareth rushed him head-on, sword poised to strike. The hulking man reached out and struck Jareth with such a force it whipped him around. He hit the ground with a thud and a crunch, breaking a rib or two. He yelled at Aedinius, and when he looked he saw Jareth laying on his back, his fingers interlaced and his palms up. Aedinius ran towards him then, his foot landing on the upturned hands. Jareth pushed with all his strength and launched him at the thug.

Aedinius flew threw the air, sword held high overhead, and brought it down into the thug's neck. The big man grabbed the wound and fell to the floor screaming as his soul descended into the Nine Hells. There were no more obstacles between him and the man brutalizing his wife.

The older man stood, leaving his sword buried inside Tiaret, fear in his eyes. Aedinius felt his blood boiling and his body overcome with rage. Slowly and purposefully, he walked towards the man. The tip of his sword drug along the ground, making an eerie and ominous sound. The man tried to back away but was stopped by the wall behind him. He was trapped.

Aedinius stopped. He looked from the man to his Tiaret lying broken on the floor. Was she still alive? He could not hear her breathing nor could he see her chest rise and fall. Enraged, he screamed to the Gods and threw his sword into the man. His aim was true, his sword piercing the older man's heart and pinning him to the wall. Within moments, his body hung lifeless.

He could not move. He could barely breathe. He could barely see through the tears filling his eyes. Aedinius could only pray to the Gods that Tiaret would not, could not die. Jareth approached her limp body. He held her wrist, trying to find a sign of life. He felt a heartbeat. Then another. It was weak, but it was there. Tears streamed down his face-Tiaret was alive!

Jareth picked her up and carried her towards Aedinius, a look of hope on his face. Aedinius saw this and thanked the Gods for not taking her from him. All they could do for a long time was look at her. Then Jareth carried her up the stairs, Aedinius next to them holding her hand. He laid her gently on the bed, and both men sat by her side, each holding one of her hands. With time and care she would live, but who would she choose to share that life with?