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Dangerous Games	By : MarianTheBlackadder Category: G through L > Hollow Crown, The Views: 1882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or I recieve no money for writting this story. All charaters and story lines belong to William Shakespeare and PBS who aired "The Hollow Crown Series"

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Protectors
                The King stood in silence having entered the cell door. A solemn expression on his face as he looked at the beautiful, strong, graceful woman he had cared for and loved these past years. Now a prisoner in the tower, not having seen the light of day in months. Her reputation was well known so she had been chained to the wall with heavy chains. A steel collar around her throat that fit tightly and shackles around her wrists and ankles. When she was arrested she was stripped of everything. Every stitch of clothing, every weapon; even her gloves. She was given a plain white linen gown which was common for female prisoners. She was treated very roughly and she had bruises and cuts on her arms and face and probably far more that he couldn’t see covered by the cloth of her dress. The jailers were notorious for their brutality. Since they housed prisoners, no one really seemed to care.
                Even with all of this, she was proud. She held her head high and her carriage remained strong. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they hurt her which no doubt only made the treatment she received worse.
                Her eyes opened as she looked up seeing Henry standing at the door. “This is my fault.” He said in a low tone. “Six months abroad . . . . look what’s been done to you.” He grit his teeth slightly, “Somehow the dispatch telling me of your arrest was apparently lost.”
                “This had nothing to do with you.” Macrae said simply.
                “Doesn’t it?” Henry snapped. He shook his head and immediately went to her kneeling down before her, cupping her face in his hands. “Why didn’t you escape? Why didn’t you run?” He begged for answers. “Macrae I know you. I know you could have gotten away, defended yourself, protected yourself from this. Why did you surrender? Why did you let them do this to you?” She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. He already knew. She was dreadfully thin, they hadn’t been feeding her properly.
                He stroked her face with his thumbs looking into her dim eyes. “You mustn’t interfere with this Henry.” She whispered.
                “This ends now.” He said kissing her forehead, “JAILER!” He roared standing up. Instantly the door opened and the jailer hurried in.
                “You’re majesty.” He said with a bow.
                “Release her, immediately.” He ordered. The jailer seemed hesitant and Henry raised his voice. “Release her from her bonds NOW. Or it will be your head on a pike.”
                Since the King put it like that, the jailer quickly took his keys and quickly did as he was ordered. As soon as the shackles and collar fell away, Henry swept her up into his arms carrying her from the dark cell.
Council
                “Your highness she’s a condemned prisoner.” His uncle said hurrying to keep up with Henry as he walked down the corridor. “She must remain in the tower.”
                “Condemned prisoner or not; the willful abuse and cruelty she has suffered is beyond unacceptable and perverse.” He hissed.
                “Sire, you know what she is. She is a known murderess and assassin. Her very life is a threat to the empire and to your reign.” He shook his head, “It’s better that she is dealt with now before she becomes a serious problem. We were lucky to have this opportunity to catch her. We may never have another.”
                “Really.” Henry stopped and looked at him. “So this was why such a long list of unproven charges were added to the original rather meaningless charge? As a preventative measure against what you and the council perceive as a threat?”
                “Your highness . . .”
                “Enough!” He held up his hand not wanting to hear any more of it, “Do not think I am ignorant as to why she was so quickly arrested and sentenced once I left England’s shores. None of you may trust her, but I know perfectly well that she is trustworthy. She will never betray me.” His uncle started to say something further but Henry stopped him. “I will not tolerate this blatant insubordination. Macrae has never betrayed me. I wish I could say the same for all of you.”
Pardons
                Henry quietly entered the bedchamber where Macrae was resting. He would have preferred it if she was in his chambers, but he had to keep up appearances now. He couldn’t provoke the council further. He had shamed them properly for going behind his back, or trying to, but the matter was still very tender.
                Now clean with her wounds treated, and a proper diet restored, color was returning to her skin.
                Quietly he walked over and sat down next to her on the bed. Reaching up he touched her short hair which had been hacked off in the prison for whatever cruel reason it was done. It was perhaps only a few inches long now. An abomination and sin in itself to destroy her beautiful locks. Her hair was clean and was its proper color again and curled in tight short curls next to her head.
                Slowly her eyes opened and she looked up at him. Henry smiled, “There’s my Macrae.” He said gently seeing her eyes had regained some of their shine.
                “Mischa?” She asked simply.
                “She is well. Your estate remains hidden well within mine.” He reassured her. “Your pardon has been signed and sealed. As soon as you are well again, you’ll return home.”
                She was quiet as she looked at him, “I was meant to die below in the dungeons.” Macrae whispered.
                “No.” He said instantly. “That may have been their intention but they did not succeed.”
                “You should have left me there. Or ordered my swift execution. If you cross your council, they will turn on you.” Macrae warned.
                “It seems to me that they already have. To plot behind my back like this. Under the impression it was ‘for my own good’. Not only am I not a child, but I am King. The King of England” He said sternly.
                “Henry . . .” Macrae could hardly stand his hard headedness. Reaching up she rested her hand on his arm. At once Henry took it and kissed her knuckles and palm before holding it to his chest.
                “You were arrested for a crime you weren’t guilty of. A number of ludicrous charges were added on to seal your fate. A precaution taken, no doubt, after it was proven the last time you were innocent of Lord Knollwood’s murder. It was wrong. I won’t tolerate such injustice in my kingdom.” He cupped her cheek in his hand looking into her eyes. “You need rest. A great deal of rest so you may recover. The physicians say despite your treatment these past months you’re strong and resilient. With the proper care you’ll heal quickly.”
                “But you have opened yourself up to ridicule. They will be at odds and never forget this slight against them. They will . . .” Macrae was truly concerned about the repercussions of this, but Henry shook his head stopping her.
                “Macrae, enough.” He said quieting her touching his finger to her lips. “We have much to discuss, but not now. Now you need to recover and concern yourself only with that. Let me worry about the rest. It’s my turn once again to watch over you, as you have watched over me in the past.” He said gently stroking his fingers through her hair.
                Macrae half smiled, “It would be my turn by now would it not?”
                Henry smiled, “I am not keeping score.” Leaning down he kissed her head, “Rest. I know how much you wish to see Mischa again, and I’ve no doubt in my mind that she has missed you.”
Back to Life
                Several months passed after Macrae returned to her estate. She had to work hard to become physically fit and strong again after her imprisonment. Some days were more difficult than others. She’d never been imprisoned so long. The few times she had been captured it didn’t take long for her to free herself and escape. Usually ending her captors as she did. Macrae hadn’t been waiting to be rescued, she had prepared herself for death and had resigned herself to her fate.
                She spent most days with Mischa. Helping her with her studies, teaching her ways to defend herself should she need too, and sometimes just playing in the garden. It made Macrae happy and always brightened her day. When Mischa was a little bit older they would be able to travel and there were so many wondrous things to show her in the world. So many places she wanted to take her.
                One afternoon, Macrae and Mischa were coming in from a ride in the forest. When they approached the manor Macrae slowed recognizing the King’s guard at the front door. Something was odd. “Mischa, go directly to the kitchen and find Beth when we get to the house.” The little girl nodded and they rode down the hill.
                Macrae went to her bedchamber finding the King waiting for her. She wasn’t certain what this was about, as he usually sent ahead to give her warning of his arrival. He smiled and stood when she entered and she instantly bowed before him. He half laughed seeing her observing protocol so strictly but gave a nod of acknowledgement.
                Once the tradition was observed Macrae looked at him, “What are you doing here?” She asked a bit suspicious.
                “I apologize I didn’t send ahead first. It was sort of an unplanned visit to see you since we were passing this way.” Henry said approaching her holding out his hands. She hesitated a moment before she placed her hands in his. He pulled her closer and leaned in kissing her cheek with a smile. “You look wonderful, darling. I’ve missed you.”
                She half smiled but was still uncertain. After another moment she repeated her question. “Why are you here?”
                “I wanted to see you. Is that so strange?” He questioned. “It’s been months since you left the castle and you haven’t returned any of my letters. Even when I sent a messenger with specific instructions to wait for a reply. I was becoming concerned.”
                “Your majesty.” She said withdrawing her hands from his. “Have you truly forgotten everything so soon?” Macrae walked passed him taking off her cloak. “You cannot keep crossing your council this way. They do not want us to have an association at all, much less seeing each other in private.” She turned back towards him. “You are a great King. A beloved King. You cannot turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to everyone where I am concerned. It’s a weakness that you cannot afford.” She said bluntly.
                “We’ve discussed this.” Henry said walking towards her. “It doesn’t matter what they think. They may not trust you, but I do. I know that you would never betray me.”
                “No you don’t!” Macrae snapped. “You don’t know what the future holds. Someone could pay me a fortune, enough to buy my own country to end you. And it would be so easy. You have made it easy.”
                “Macrae, stop this.” Henry said sternly know what she was doing. He knew that she was worried about him, concerned for him and she would say anything to push him away. Even though she didn’t want to.
                “You have to stop, Henry. You have to let me go. Because whatever this is, whatever has been between us in the past, is not going to end well.” She took a breath and looked away closing her eyes, “It should have never begun in the first place. It was incredibly short sighted of both of us.”
                Henry walked up and placed his hands on her shoulders turning her to face him. “You still can’t accept it can you.” He said in a softer voice, “That I can’t let you go. I haven’t been able to since we met.” He touched her chin and turned her face towards him looking into her eyes, “I love you, Macrae.”
                “Henry, no.” She breathed closing her eyes turning her face away.
                “No, listen to me.” He said turning her face back towards him. “You don’t have to be afraid of it. Because I know you love me too. You’ve said so many times that I have been your weakness, is it such a surprise to you, such a hard thing to understand that you are my weakness too?” Tears were forming in her eyes as she looked into his. “You stayed when you were arrested. You let yourself be tortured. You would have died in the tower or beneath the executioner’s blade. All for my sake.” Reaching up he cupped her face in his hands sliding his hands into her hair, and stroking her cheeks with his thumbs looking into her eyes. “I love you.” He whispered. “And you have proven time and time again, you love me too. Don’t you.”
                Macrae had a knot in her throat, and she could hardly breathe. She had denied it for so long, she wouldn’t even let herself think the words or admit to what the feelings were that she felt for him. But she couldn’t fight it anymore. She looked into his eyes, “Yes.” She whispered barely able to say it, shaking as tears escaped from her eyes. “I love you with all of my heart.”
                At once he kissed her deeply having waited for an eternity to hear her say it. She was completely vulnerable and he could feel her tremble in his arms. She was clever, and brilliant, very well educated, and had been so far detached from such emotions her entire life. She was capable of them, but had never fallen prey to them until the day she met Hal and he pursued her with such devoted enthusiasm.
                After a moment, the King wrapped his arm around her pulling her body hard against his slipping his hand through her hair then down her back embracing her tighter still. She kissed him back hungrily wrapping her arms around him. Her good sense telling her she shouldn’t, but her heart and her body screaming out for him.
                Henry lifted her from the floor, before setting her back to her feet walking her backwards to the table that was nearby. He lifted her again to the table as they continued to kiss feverishly unable to stop their anxious almost desperate affections. They were both breathing hard as the kiss parted. Henry started to unlace her bodice and Macrae reached up carefully taking off his crown and putting it on the table knowing how much it meant to him. Then her hands moved to his belt that held his dagger and quickly unbuckled it as it fell to the floor. Her fingertips moved expertly undoing the buttons of his jacket.
                He grinned and kissed her again as she pushed his jacket off over his shoulders and it soon joined his belt on the floor. Henry’s hand slid to the back of her neck as he rested his hand against her chest as he lie her back down on the table beneath him as they gorged themselves on each other’s taste yet again.
                Suddenly a knock came at the door and Macrae’s eyes opened. When the knock came again she pressed her hands against his chest pausing his onrush of passion. “Yes!” She called out.
                “Mistress . . . . Mischa is gone!” A voice called out.
                Both Henry and Macrae looked at each other before quickly untangling their bodies. She got up from the table and hurried over to the door pulling the bolt and opened it. “What do you mean she’s gone? I told her to go to the kitchen and find Beth when we returned.”
                “Beth never found her, and she never came to the kitchen mistress. We found this in the corridor.” She reached out handing Macrae Mischa’s bracelet that the King had given to her. The clasp broken as if it had been torn away. Her eyes went wide as she looked at it. Mischa would never take it off. She loved it. Henry walked up and stood beside her taking the broken bracelet.
                “Gather everyone, have them spread out and search every room in the manor. The stables, the garden, the fields, everything! Go now!” She said raising her voice. The maid quickly bowed before hurrying to do as she was instructed.
                “I’ll summon my guards; have them help with the search.” Henry said seeing how upset she was.
                Macrae turned going to her weapons chest and opening it taking out several weapons putting it on her person. “I knew something was wrong when we came home, I could feel it. It’s why I told her to go to the kitchen and find her governess.” She pulled up her skirts and put a sharp dagger on her thigh before closing the case.
                Henry quickly retrieved his crown putting it on. “What? What could be wrong in your own home?”
                She paused only a moment searching her mind before looking at him, “Go to your guards.” She said simply. “Make certain they are all accounted for.” Then she turned and hurried out of the room to go find the lost child.
Frantic Searches
                Macrae burst through the double doors a cold look in her eyes as she stormed through the foyer. Henry had been waiting for her to return. He had been more than willing to go with her but was unable to keep up with her. “Did you find any sign of her?”
                “No.” She said walking passed him into the next room where another weapons chest was located. His guards started to follow him but he held up his hand to stop them before going into the room to Macrae. She had opened the weapons chest and had taken out a cross bow and several extremely harsh looking arrows.
                “I’ve questioned all of my men. None of them knew of the new guard before we left.” He confessed.
                “Then your protection detail is somewhat less then affective.” She hissed. “How many days have they been out with you away from the castle?” Macrae looked at him. “No one noticed the new face? Thought to ask? Were suspicious when a stranger became part of the Kings personal guard!” She shouted.
                “Macrae . . .” Henry said never having seen her so angry before. Always in every situation she kept a cool and level head. Macrae turned back to the chest taking out several more weapons that he wasn’t familiar with and had never seen before. She was preparing to take someone apart one piece at a time. Henry quickly walked over to her catching her one of hands. “Macrae, . . . darling.” She struggled trying to tear her arm away but he quickly caught her other wrist and pulled her to face him. She struggled a moment more before relenting turning her eyes away. He reached up and cupped her face in his hand a moment stroking her cheek softly. “You’ll find her.”
                “There is no reason to take her unless it was to get to me.” She said in a low tone. “It’s a trap that is no doubt been well prepared and is waiting to be sprung now that they have retrieved her as bait.”
                “Then don’t go on your own. Take us with you and use us to your advantage.” He said. “My guards are well seasoned soldiers. They can help.”
                “Well seasoned soldiers who are as blind as beggars.” She snapped. “That’s only if they haven’t been paid to help with this plot.”
                “You can’t do this. You can’t walk into the fray on your own knowing it’s a trap.” He warned.
                “I am not a general, your majesty. I work best alone.” She tore her arms away and returned to her weapons chest. Henry was even more concerned about this knowing that she was emotionally compromised. Due in no small part to him. She was already emotionally vulnerable when news came of Mischa’s disappearance.
                He knew how stubborn she was and what happened when her mind was set. All he could do was try to calm her down. Stepping behind her he reached up he placed his hands on her shoulders. Macrae’s movements slowed when kissed her cheek resting his face to hers a moment. “You are not alone.” He said in a gentle tone.
                Macrae was still and silent listening to his words feeling his warm breath on her. “She was never supposed to be part of this.” She said in a quiet whisper. “My sins were never supposed to touch her.”
                “Losing your head isn’t going to help anyone.” He whispered into her ear, “You’re angry and you are hurt, but you must go about this cleverly. Use all the resources available to you.” Reaching up he touched her hair which she had braided to keep out of her way when she was working. “You can’t do this alone. They won’t expecting you to have help.”
                She was silent for several moments thinking about his council before she turned to face him looking into his eyes. “When I find him, or them . . . . you must walk away.” Henry furrowed his brow not quite understanding. “They belong to me now. Their lives are forfeit.”
                The King took a breath looking into her eyes. If he didn’t agree, she would simply disappear and go by herself. “Alright.” He said simply. “Tell me, what you need.”
Transgressions
                It was nearly nightfall, and everything in the forest was eerily quiet. It seemed that even the animals that inhabited the area could sense there was something amiss. The seven guards that accompanied the King had surrounded the area and were moving low through the brush stealthily. Henry among them his own weapon drawn.
                At the center, there were three men who were quiet sensing something was going on as well. These were professional men, professional like Macrae. Mischa had been tied rather extensively at her hands and feet and fastened to a tree with a gag to keep her quiet. Her face was dirty and streaked with tears and she was trembling.
                “This is taking too long. She should have come for her by now.” One of them said.
                “Stop your griping and get back to your position. You shouldn’t have come in from it.” Another responded in an annoyed tone.
                “It’s nearly dark and a new moon. Even if she comes out after the child she won’t be able to see anything.” The third chimed in.
                The one who seemed to be the leader smirked, “Then you don’t know Macrae at all. Knowing her as I do, she’s waiting until dark for that very reason. You are underestimating her and she will be able to do her work in silence. She prefers it that way.”
                “You’ve seen her before then?” The other said.
                “Oh yes. We are . . . old friends.” He said with a grin. “Although it’s been a number of years since we’ve met face to face.” He looked at the little girl for a moment, “This is something new.” He admitted. “I never knew her to have such compassion.”
                “It’s her daughter, isn’t it?”
                He chuckled, “No. Macrae is barren. She cannot have children. Yet whoever this girl is, she cares for her like a daughter. Which works to our advantage.” He stood and turned towards them, “Get back to your positions. You are such amateurs to leave them in the first place. She’ll wait for the sun to go down and then she’ll attack.” Both men stood taking their weapons and leaving the small clearing. The leader moved to Mischa and looked down at the terrified little girl. “Don’t worry.” He said in a low voice, “I don’t leave orphans.”
                Suddenly there were several sounds like cutting and something falling in the two directions the other men had left in. He stood and called out to them but no reply came. He listened quietly finding no report, no more movement. He turned to go back to Mischa but was stopped cold finding Macrae standing before him. “Neither do I.” She said in answer to his comment to Mischa. At once she lunged forward and attacked him a Kukri Machete in each hand. Instantly he blocked her attacks with the iron arm guards he wore, before taking out weapons of his own and returning her attacks. He was fast and skilled as she was. They traded several more blows before Macrae jumped up grabbing a branch and kicked him squarely in the chest sending him flying back. He quickly regained his footing wiping the blood from the cut on his cheek she’d placed just moments before as they began to circle each other.
                Henry and his guards who had taken out the other two men at Macrae’s direction appeared in the clearing but the King instructed them to stay back. He motioned for two to free the Mischa and remove her from danger before turning his attention back to the fight unfolding before him.
                “Look at you Macrae, all grown up.” The man said keeping his eyes fixed on her as hers never left him. “You pretend to be a Lady, but I know you. I still see the frightened little girl shivering inside of you.”
                “I should have ended you then, Silas.” Macrae replied simply.
                Henry had seen this behavior before. When he was just a boy he saw wolves hunting. Silent, determined, and extremely deadly. He’d seen Macrae take on an alley of thugs before, but he had never seen her take on someone as deadly as she was.
                “Trying to be something you’re not I see. Pretending to be a lady, to be like all the rest. An estate? Lands?” He smirked, “A child you pretend to call your own? Who is it you imagine yourself to be?”
                “You always did talk far too much.” She kicked up a rock that hit him in the throat before throwing several metal star like objects at him. He seemed to be able to deflect some of them, but one landed its mark in his shoulder. He pulled it from his arm tossing it aside and within a flash of a second they were locked together again in combat. Managing to get his arm around her, he drew his armored hand across her chest leaving several deep cuts like a beasts claw marks in her skin. She grasped his arm throwing her head back smashing him hard in the face before she kicked her feet up then dropped her weight throwing him over her head to the ground.
                The King watched in silence having a difficult time remaining back. He had watched her in a fight before and hated himself for not going to her aid. But he had promised her before they had come out that he wouldn’t interfere when they found the one responsible for Mischa’s abduction.
                 Macrae moved towards him again. Silas was still on the ground and flipped over catching her and slamming her down on the ground beside him. He had her by the arm and rolled towards her an incredibly vicious looking knife in his hand intending to drive it into her heart. She kicked her feet up over her head twisting his arm before slamming the heel of her boot into his shoulder. There was a loud popping sound indicating that she had dislocated his arm. He growled releasing her as she moved back putting some distance between them.
                He got to his feet sweating profusely as he starred at her a dark look in his eyes feeling the wounds they had been inflicting on each other beginning to take their toll. “You’re still an amateur.” He hissed at her.
                She grinned breathing deeply herself, “And you’ve slowed, old man.”
                He reached under his jacket and flew at her again intending to deliver a fatal blow, however Macrae removed a device from where it was attached behind her back. It was a length of thin chain with two spikes at the end. When he was close she threw herself at him wrapping the chain around his neck under his chin. She jumped up against one tree and then pushed off another before twisting around and driving the spikes deep into the wood of the nearest one, affectively hanging her enemy his feet barely brushing the ground. He reached up pulling at the chain that wouldn’t loosen and he couldn’t breathe.
                Macrae looked up at him catching her breath. “You never cared about anyone or anything in your entire life. Nothing but the pleasure you got from killing your victims.” She said picking up the nasty looking knife he had intended to use on her. “Otherwise you would have realized how foolish it was to use an innocent child against me.” He couldn’t answer, no more quips, no more taunting words. Henry watched as Macrae stepped closer, the coldness and the fury in her eyes. Whatever was between them started long ago. Long before Mischa was taken from her home. With one swift move she eviscerated him, his bowels spilling out onto the forest floor. It was a horrifying death to watch, much worse to be the one to lose their life by.
                As he bled out and his feet stopped twitching. Macrae dropped the knife stepping back before stumbling backwards to the ground. “Macrae!” Henry hurried over and kneeled down beside her wrapping his arm around her. She reached up and touched the 3 claw marks on her chest. “What is it, what’s wrong?”
                “I need to get back to the manor . . . . I need to . . . . get back now. There isn’t much time.” She said. Henry could see in her eyes that there was more going on than just a few shallow cuts. Quickly he stood lifting her from the ground in his arms hurrying back towards where their horses were waiting.
Not Much Time
                It took them well nearly half an hour to get back to the manor at a dead run with the horses, and Henry quickly carried Macrae upstairs to her room. He would have carried her to her bed but she insisted that he put her down. She stumbled to the weapons chest near the wall and fell to the floor. At once Henry was at her side trying to help her. She crawled to the bottom of the chest and pressed several pieces of wood and turning others. A hidden chamber slid open at the bottom filled with different colored vile’s.
                “Which one, which one is it?” He asked seeing her weaken since they had left the clearing.
                “Blue.” It had become very difficult for her to breathe, and there was a wheeze in her chest. “Dark blue.” She half smiled, “Like your eyes.”
                Henry quickly dug through the viles finding the one that she had indicated. He quickly pulled the cork from it with his teeth and held it to her lips. Macrae took a breath before drinking deeply. After a moment her eyes started to close causing him to panic. “Macrae. Stay with me darling, please.” He said dropping the vile holding her head in his hands.
                “I need . . . I need to sleep.” She said quickly losing consciousness. “It takes time to counteract the poison . . . I need to rest.”
                “Poison.” He said looking at the wounds on her chest again stating to reach for them, but her hand snapped up with her last ounce of strength catching his wrist.
                “You mustn’t touch the blood.” She said quickly. “Not until the poison is made inactive.” She half smiled, “Silas always was a bad loser.”
                The weapon she’d been cut with was tipped with some kind of poison. She was so weak, it had taken them so long to return to manor. He stood hoisting her up from the stone floor carrying her over to her bed and laying her down. Henry cupped her face in his hands, finding her unconscious. It may have been to long between her being injured and taking the antidote. “Hold on darling, please.” He whispered. “I just got you back.”

To Be Continued . . .
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Dangerous Games