(C) Blackstone Arena - Chapter 2

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#68 of Commissions

Commission for Kaden22. Direct sequel to Chapter 1 (duh)

The second chapter of the Blackstone Arena story. Following his victory over the previous champion and tool of his wife's murder, Rovan of Redfield is just getting accustomed to his new title as champion. Though his main focus is on his continued plot against the Queen and Crown Prince.

However, he is startled by a surprised visitor: the queen herself! She has a gift (bribe) of a personal slave for him, though he is less than thrilled by the idea. Things go from tense to worse when he is soon given another reason to continue his plot for revenge, culminating in his next fight: The Crown Prince himself.


Blackstone Arena

Chapter 2: Princely Revenge

By XP Author

Three days before the fight

To: Rovan of Redfield, current champion of Blackstone Arena

You have the honor of being challenged by none other than Crown Prince Sirus Valian Behovis Negranta Kestra. Should you accept this challenge, you will fight an honorable duel with the prince in the arena in three days of receiving this notice. As the challenger is the Crown Prince, he has agreed that the sanctity of the Arena as a place where status does not matter will be upheld, and you shall fight as equal warriors in honorable combat.

_Signed,

Curtis of Kestra, Blackstone Arena Master_

Rovan read the letter he had been given earlier that day once again. Not for the first time, the rat felt a wide grin on his face. It was exactly what he had been waiting for, aiming for, planning for. Five years ago, almost to the day, his wife, Alana, had been chosen to be sent as 'tribute.' He was soon told of her death at the hands of the reigning champion at the time, Vessira of Colvatch. The royals loved to do this, picking mostly at random people from the towns and villages within their kingdom to come and fight in the arena, to kill each other and die for the twisted enjoyment of themselves and their subjects within the capital city. Since then, he had trained and planned for his revenge.

The first step had been successful. He had fought and killed the champion, Vessira, and taken the position for himself. However, that was only the first step, but it was key to the next. The aging lioness had not only been the champion and the person directly responsible for Alana's brutal death, but was also the lover of Prince Sirus. He had not just killed her, but humiliated her in the process, all to anger the prince to some sort of action. The challenge letter came only a week later, much to his joy. Of course he accepted the moment he read it.

A knock on the door got his attention. He stood from the small desk against the otherwise bare wall and moved to the door. He thought he had heard the movement of people in armor, likely guards with someone sent to talk him out of the fight. He opened the door, and while there were a quartet of heavily armed and armored guards outside, who they were guarding made him flinch in surprise. Towering over everyone by almost double was a massive dragon, her scales black as night, with deep purple accents. Her clothing was both finely made, and subtly hiding the armor under it, yet somehow also managed to accentuate both her musculature yet still distinctly feminine figure. Nothing less than the best for the queen herself.

He quickly took several steps back from the door. "Y-Your highness?"

One of the guards, a dog with dark fur, growled at him. "Bow your head, you peasant! This is your queen!"

Queen Devara raised a hand, a subtle gesture that still had some great power behind it. "It is fine, Captain. This is the champion of my arena, and I am an unannounced visitor." She had to duck low to step through the doorway. The crest upon her head nearly touched the ceiling as she stood back up, her form filling a large portion of the room. She looked around, nodding slowly. With his new status, Rovan had been given the champion's private quarters in the arena. It was still fairly small, yet still bigger than several buildings in his hometown. The walls were bare stone, and there was little in the way of furniture. A single writing desk with a chair, a bed big enough for someone twice his size to comfortably sleep on, and a small set of weights for training he had not touched. "Quaint. Reminds me of the many forts I stayed in while leading the army to battle."

Rovan cleared his throat, keeping his eyes down, but not quite able to bring himself to bow to the tyrant. "To what do I own the... pleasure of your company this evening, your highness?" It took some great effort, but he managed to keep the spite out of his voice... mostly. Though he knew she was shrewd, and likely had already figured him out, at least a little.

She still played along as much as he did. "I have come to ask if you are serious about accepting my son's foolish challenge."

He felt the smirk come again. "I am. As champion, I could not deny a challenge from a foe of such status."

The large dragon frowned, but only for a moment before her practiced smile returned. "Well, I would encourage you not to throw your life away so, but I suppose it is yours to throw away. My son may be a fool, but he is still my son, and a dragon to boot. You may have gotten lucky taking down that wh-" She caught herself. "...The previous champion... And for that, I am grateful." Even in his short time in the city, he had learned her disdain for her son's relationship with Vessina. "However, I doubt even someone so... skilled... could hope to stand a chance against him."

Rovan nodded slowly. "Even if my death is all but assured, I have already accepted the challenge. To back out now would only be cowardice on my part. Hardly fitting for the champion of your great arena."

She let out an amused grunt, smirking at his clever play at her ego. "True as that may be, this is a special circumstance. You have until the fight to choose to back down, and I will personally see to it that no one will claim it is a coward's choice. Including my son."

"A generous offer."

"I am a generous queen. And to prove it, I have also brought you a gift." She snapped her fingers at the door. One of the guards outside shoved someone through the doorway. A young mouse nearly stumbled her way into the room, gingerly stepping around the towering dragon and keeping her head bowed low. She couldn't be more than 19 or 20, dressed in revealing clothing that did not suit her. He also noticed a slave collar around her neck. "This is girl is now yours." She tossed a key onto the desk to her side, likely to the collar on the girl's neck.

He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep his anger from rising. After a moment, he managed to keep his calm. "I appreciate the offer, my lady, but I could not accept such a... payment."

Devara smirked again. "This is not just some petty attempt to bribe you. She is also a gift. My thanks to you for ridding me of that lion that had seduced my son. He may not see it as such, but you have done me a favor, intentional or not, and I reward those that do me services." She motioned to the key. "You can keep her or set her free, I care not what you choose, but she is yours." She looked back at him. "Worry yourself not about my son, either. Sirus may rage for a time, but he will get over the lost of this juvenile infatuation soon enough."

Rovan glanced up at the girl, who still had her eyes cast down at the floor. She was pretty. Actually reminded him a little of Alana. "Thank you, but my decision will not change."

The queen grunted, her smile fading. "Well, you have a few days to think it over." She turned, ducking low again to get out of the room. "I will leave you to your new... gift. But do think on my words seriously. You will not survive my son's wrath. And, if by some miracle you do..." She just let her words trail off, but he caught the maliciousness to them, knowing her meaning. She would end him personally. Which he liked just fine. That was step three, after all.

The door closed, and he heard the queen and her escorts leaving down the hall. He took a deep breath and let it out. It took a lot out of him to remain as polite as he had. He turned to look at the girl, her eyes still on the floor. "Alright. First things first, lets get you out of that collar." He grabbed the key off the desk and moved close, looking for where it fit into the bulky metal thing around her neck.

"Y-you do not have to, sir."

He found the keyhole after a moment, slipping the key in, but it was not easy to turn. "First off, none of that sir nonsense. Secondly, yes, I do. I'm not in the habit of keeping slaves." He finally managed to unlock the collar. The thing opened and fell to the floor with a clang. "There." He moved back around to her front. "Now, what is your name?"

She looked a little awkward, reaching up to touch where the collar once was. He wondered how long she had been forced to wear the thing. "Um... Ilora."

"Well, Ilora, you are a slave no more. I will own no slaves, so you are free."

"O-oh..." She bit her lip. "Thank you..." She still looked more than a little awkward, glancing at the door, but not making any move.

He sighed. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you?" She shook her head. Of course she didn't. And she likely had no money to her name, either. "Ah. Right. Sorry, I hadn't thought about that." He ran a hand through his short hair. "I'd give you some money for somewhere to stay, but I'm afraid I don't have much myself." He had spent almost everything he had just getting to the city, and he had not really been paid for being champion in money yet. The room was his payment... and her, he supposed. "Well, you are welcome to stay here for now." He held up his hands. "As my guest, though. Not as my slave. Okay?"

She nodded. "That is fine with me, si-" She caught herself. "Um... Rovan."

He smiled. Though he did note how uncomfortable she looked in her current attire. It was a fairly revealing dress, the neck cut low to show off what little cleavage she had, and the skirt was cut high to show off her slender legs, much of her pale tan fur on display. "I... uh... I don't have anything else for you to wear, either." He cleared his throat. "Maybe I could take you into town to get some more clothes tomorrow?"

That actually made her perk up a little. "R-really?" She quickly tried to suppress her excitement.

He grinned. "Yeah. Sure. We'll see about getting you something more fitting. I'm sure there's some kind of perk or credit or something I get being champion, so it should be fine."

She gave him an actual smile, her excitement returning. This time, she let him see it. "Wow! Thank you sir! Um... Rovan." She blushed a little. "Sorry..."

He shook his head, moving over to sit on the bed. "Don't be. You must have had to wear that collar long time, I'm sure this is all kind of new to you."

She nodded, moving to sit next to him. "Y-yes. I've been... or I guess I should say I was a slave since I was 7. My father was forced to sell me after my mother died." She quickly said. "Oh, but please don't think badly of him. He was very frail, and there was no way for him to raise a child on his own. I would most likely have died otherwise."

He nodded slowly. He had seen similar things like that before. It was a sorry state of things that being a slave was a better future for many. "And just how old are you now?"

"19... as of last month."

"So young." He was a little over a decade older than her. Still, for someone who had been a slave for most of their life, she did not seem to be too badly scarred, and she wasn't gaunt, so at least she had been fed. "Well, Ilora, the hour is getting late, so I think I will turn in. I can sleep on the floor if you would like the bed. Believe it or not, I've slept in far less hospitable places than this."

She quickly shook her head. "N-no! I-It's your bed! I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you were on the floor while I was in such comfort!" She blushed again. "I-I'm okay with the floor, if you do not want to share the bed with me. I have... also slept in much less comfortable places."

He let out a soft sigh. "We'll share the bed, then." He glanced back at the mattress they sat upon. "It's definitely large enough for the both of us, I think. And then some." He looked back at her. "But please, don't hesitate to take a blanket if you get cold." She smiled back at him, nodding happily.

Two days before the fight

Rovan let out a soft breath, his body feeling warm. In his dream, he was holding his wife, her soft body pressed close. They were together once more, naked and floating in a sea of stars. He had missed her so, the way her hair spilled behind her in a river of wheat-colored strands. He spoke, not words but meanings, his longing for her, his grief, his love. She shushed him with silence, her hands running against him, her mouth caressing his belly, then lower. He gasped as he felt the warmth around his shaft, the tongue running against him.

He drifted up from the dream as he realized the feeling was real, not a figment anymore. He opened his eyes slowly. The room was still darkened, yet he was able to make out the tan fur and long hair, felt the body pressed against him. "Ilora...?"

She flinched, suddenly pulling her head up and away, her mouth quickly removed from his shaft, leaving it suddenly damp and cold. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

He rubbed his eyes as he sat up a little. "What... are you doing?" He of course knew, but he wanted to know why.

She also sat up, and he noticed that she had removed her clothing, at least the top, leaving her small breasts and flat belly exposed. "You were... um..." She motioned down at his shaft. "This was poking me... a lot..."

The rat felt his cheeks flush a little. "Ah... sorry about that."

She shook her head. "It's okay. Thought I might help... ease you a little as you slept. As thanks for... all you're doing for me."

He sighed softly. "You don't need to do that." He reached out, gently touching her cheek. "I'm not your master, remember? You don't need to service me or anything like that."

She nodded. "I know. But... it's... it's one of the few things I can do." She gave him a soft smile. "And... I want to. You've been nothing but kind." She bit her lip a little. "You were also talking in your sleep... kept saying the name Alana... you poked me especially hard when talking about her."

He winced. "Ah. I'm sorry... She was my wife. I was... dreaming of her."

"Was?" He nodded. "She... died?" He nodded again. "Oh..."

"Five years ago." He gave her a soft smile. "You remind me a little of her. We were married about the same age as you."

The mouse nodded slowly, looking away and ruminating about something. After a few moments of silence, she shifted a little up the bed, and he saw she was completely naked. "If... you want... you could pretend I'm her."

That took him by surprise. "W-what!? No!" He cleared his throat as she continued to press herself close against him. "Look, you are very pretty, but..."

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. "I know what you're going to say." Suddenly her legs were on either side of him, hips straddling his belly. "That I don't have to. You're not my master. I know. But... I want to. To choose to for the first time." He gasped as he felt her rear lower to press against his still rigid shaft. "And you need it. I can feel the tension in you. You need a release." It was true. Even with what he had done to the lioness, that hardly counted as much. He had not actually been with a woman since he had lost his wife, something he thought he would never do again. Yet here was a sweet girl, willing to let him, wanting it herself.

A shiver ran through him as she lifted herself, her damp lips running against his shaft. "If you really do not want it, then tell me and I will stop." He wanted to tell her to stop, but at the same time, he did want it. And so nothing came from his lips but a loud moan as she lowered herself. She let out a moan to match as her pussy slowly wrapped around his shaft, lowering herself to take inch after inch, until her hips met his. She looked up at him, her face flushed. "Still want me to stop?"

He shook his head. "No." He reached out to hold her hips, and thrust upwards, making her gasp and moan. She bounced to meet his thrusts, her inner walls squeezing around him. She needed this almost as much as he did. It was the first time in her life she had chosen to sleep with someone, and even with the hard thrusts up into her, he was being gentle with her. His hands held her hips, helping to guide her up and down. His shaft fit within her perfectly, not too large to hurt, not so small she got nothing from it.

He continued to thrust up at her, moaning loud, listening to her moans in return. It had been so long, and she had been teasing him in his sleep, plus the dream itself. He panted, trying to slow himself. "S-sorry... it's been..."

He gasped as she pressed down against him again, hips wiggling. "Don't hold back." She kept doing little bounces on him. "Release all that tension into me." She let out another moan. "We can go slow next time." She wasn't giving him much choice, and he could hear the desperation in her own voice. He gripped her hips again and started thrusting, shorter, harder movements now. She cried out as he plunged within her over and over, feeling him throbbing and pulsing as he drew closer and closer. Her inner walls squeezed around him, juices coating his crotch now.

He could hold back no longer. With a hard thrust, he cried out and released everything. A heavy blast of his seed shot into her, and another, and more. She cried out, throwing her head back as she felt him cumming. Her hips ground against him, rubbing herself on him and sending herself over the edge to join him in orgasmic bliss while he filled her with all he had. The two shivered and shuddered together as they came.

She fell forward against him, panting heavily. A shiver ran through her as she felt him still spurting a few last times into her. "Ah... ha... that... that was..." She cleared her throat a little. "D-do you feel... bet-" Her eyes went wide as he gave her a little kiss on the lips. Nothing deep, but she had not expected it.

"Yes." He slid his arms up to hold her against him. "Thank you. I... did need that." He felt the little tremble going through her still. "I think you did, too."

She nodded. "Y-yeah, I little..." She laid her head against his shoulder. "That was... the first time I think I've ever actually enjoyed it." He smiled. "Thank you."

He nodded slowly. "You're welcome." He held her like this as they basked in their afterglow, both soon drifting to sleep. He had never expected that he might be with another girl, especially one so much younger than himself. For her part, she was content that he was happy. She was not so foolish as to think he might love her, especially so soon, but for now, he was happy, and that made her happy.

One day before the fight

The day had been an eventful one, but not a bad one. Rovan had fulfilled his promise and taken Ilora out shopping for clothes. Turns out, a lot of people really hated the old champion, and were more than willing to give him things for free for having taken her out. Not only was he able to get her a few new sets of clothing, they were also treated to a rather nice meal. It was still a very awkward experience for him, being treated like some kind of celebrity.

Word had also gotten around that he was to fight the prince soon, and while no one said it openly, he got the distinct impression he was not the only person who hated the royals currently in charge. No one said anything directly, especially as guards were constantly walking the streets nearby, but he was sure there was something of a revolution brewing. Nothing had started yet, but even he could feel the unrest among the people around him. Merchants complained about high taxes, civilians giving the guards sour looks, and a general feeling of unease and unrest just under the smiles and small talk.

After their day on the town, Rovan and Ilora returned to his quarters at the Arena. She treated him to a lovely little fashion show, putting on all the new outfits. None of them were particularly fancy, mostly simple dresses in muted blues and greens, but they suited her. Far better than the thing she had been wearing when she was first 'gifted' to him as a bribe. He was just please to make her happy. It was another strange feeling. He barely knew her, and yet he already cared some for her happiness.

Fulfilling another promise, that night, they had taken it much slower. He explored her body, getting her squirming and panting under him. He was also able to last much longer this time, letting her climax several times. Though he did still fill her, at her insistence, giving her another heavy load within. They had enjoyed each other's company well into the night, well past midnight. And once more, they had drifted off to sleep laid against each other.

He drempt again, but it was not as pleasant as the last. He was out and about the town with Ilora again, but they were naked and vulnerable. The people were much less kind, the friendly veneer gone. Fear and loathing filled the streets. But so did a maliciousness, a darkness that slithered about the crowd, picking them off, one by one. It was not the people it hunted, but him, following, watching, waiting for a chance to strike. With a start, he realized he had actually seen this. Not people being picked off, but something following and watching through the day.

The fur at the back of his neck prickled as he felt something was wrong. He sensed some kind of danger, his consciousness quickly returning as he woke with a jolt. He was aware that Ilora was not against him. He was alone in the bed. "Awake already? Damn." He gasped as the deep, yet feminine voice spoke. His eyes went wide as he saw the source. A naga stared back at him, her scales a green so dark it was almost black, but bright yellow slit-eyes stared right at him. Her long, powerful body was coiled tightly.

Icy cold ran through his veins as he saw what she was coiled around. Ilora, her mouth open in a silent scream of agony, her face a mask of pure terror. His breath caught in his own lungs as he stared at her, his eyes meeting hers. She gave him a pleading look, even as he heard bones snapping and cracking as the snake coiled tighter. "Let her go!"

The woman chuckled. "Oh? But I've only just caught this little morsel." She coiled tighter, and there was another series of sickening cracks. Blood started to drool from Ilora's wide mouth, little more than a raspy wheeze coming from her.

Rovan reached under his pillow, pulling a dagger he had left for such an occasion. Life on the road had taught him to never be far from a weapon, lest bandits catch him ill prepared. He held the blade before him as he stepped off the bed. "I said, let her go!"

The snake chuckled. "As you wish." She quickly uncoiled from the mouse, pulling back. Ilora crumpled to the floor in a heap, laying in an awkward position. The snake had crushed so many of her bones and internal organs that there was nothing he could do for her. Blood drooled from her mouth and nose, her mouth moving as she tried to speak, her eyes still full of terror and tears. Her gaze lost focus soon as her life faded away at his feet. "She was already dead. Was she special to you? Or was she just the whore you took home tonight?"

He looked up at the snake, gripping the dagger hard, and clenching his jaw harder. "Who are you?" There was steel in his voice. "You have been following me all day. Watching me. So are you an assassin, or just a very gutsy thief?"

She let out a low, hissing laugh. "Very good. My name is Rissa. And you, Rovan of Redfield, are my target. The Prince is paying well for your death."

That surprised him. He had expected the assassin to be sent by the queen. "Funny, I thought he would want to kill me himself."

The snake started to move a little to the side, watching him. "He just wants you dead, no matter how. And that means I get to have a meal tonight." With no warning, she lunged at him. He tried to dodge out of the way, but only managed to get right in the path of her tail. It slammed into his chest, sending him crashing back against the wall, hard enough that he bounced off and fell to the floor, dropping the blade in his hand. He scrambled to grab it again, just ducking under another swing of her tail.

She was fast, already moving as he tried to cut at her tail. Instead, he found himself being bashed again, this time against his back and sending him stumbling forward. He turned, but she was moving again, behind him already. A pair of scaled hands gripped his arms from behind, pinning them to his side. He struggled, but felt something above him. He looked up, only for his eyes to go wide as he saw the gaping maw of the snake, her mouth opening impossibly wide.

He struggled to break free, but she was far stronger than he was. Suddenly, darkness surrounded him, along with a wet tightness that was very unpleasant. He felt her tongue slithering against his back. Everything tilted dizzyingly as she pulled back, lifting him off of his feet. He kicked his legs as she grabbed at his waist, shoving him deeper into her mouth. He felt her teeth scraping against his bare ass, and the confines grew tighter around him.

Rissa swallowed again and again as she shoved the rat deeper into her mouth, feeling him squirming and struggling as he was forced down her throat. Soon, his feet disappeared into her mouth, and she swallowed one last time to gulp him down whole. It was a rare treat that she got to enjoy, consuming her prey live. "Keep struggling away, little rodent. I do so love the feeling." She shifted as he did just that, continuing to struggle as best he could as he slowly slid deeper. "You'll be nothing but bones by morning. I'm sure the prince will hang your skull on his wall as a troph-" Her words stopped as he shifted again. "Ooof... a lot of fight in you..."

She flinched as something felt wrong. Then she let out a cry of pain. "W-what... are you..." She started to thrash as the pain grew worse, her tail crashing into the desk, smashing it to pieces. She fell to the floor, writhing about in agony. A blade suddenly erupted from her belly. Her eyes went wide. He had managed to hide the blade as he was swallowed. She screamed as he cut through more of her, blood praying and gushing about onto the floor.

With a gasp, he burst free of her. His fur was covered in her blood and bile. He dragged and clawed his way back out of the still thrashing snake's body, only to collapse onto the floor once he was free. He pushed himself up, nearly falling over as her thrashing tail hit his legs. He still had an iron grip on the blade in his hand, staring down at the woman. She somehow managed to laugh up at him. "The prince will still kill you, little r-" He cut her words as he jammed the dagger into her throat, slicing it open. She writhed even more as her blood gushed from the new wound.

"The coward will join you soon enough." He watched as she died. It took much longer than he would have assumed. She had a lot of blood in such a large body, though most of it was now leaking onto the floor. It took so long that he had not expected her to still be able to attack. Her tail suddenly smacked against his back, coiling around him as it dragged him to the ground. He swore as he struggled against her shaky but still squeezing muscles. "Fucking... snake!" He managed to pull one arm free before the coils bound tighter. He stretched his hand it up toward the dagger he had left in her neck. Her head had thumped to the floor, forked tongue hanging limp from her open mouth, but it was just out of reach. Even with her body finally growing still, she was incredibly heavy and wrapped tightly around him.

After almost a minute of struggling, he finally managed to grab at the dagger, just barely getting his fingertips on the bottom of the handle to pull it free. He quickly stabbed it down into the tail coiled about him, slicing at the muscles holding him in a literal death grip, not caring as more reptilian blood poured out to soak into his fur. Finally, he manage to get his other arm free. Extracting the rest of himself was much easier after that, crawling out from the coiled loops of her tail. He managed to pull himself up to his feet once fully extricating himself from under the dead assassin, giving her a swift kick somewhere near the middle of her long body out of pure spite.

His attention was then turned to Ilora. Stumbling his way over, he collapsed to his knees beside her. He gently turned her head, but he could already tell she was long dead. He closed his eyes, but had no tears to shed. "I'm sorry." He gently held her. "You didn't deserve this." He had failed to keep her safe, but this black mark was not on him. It was another strike against the royals. Against the prince in particular. Another senseless death of an innocent because of their whims. "I swear, I will make him pay tomorrow." He reached up to close her eyes. "Rest, Ilora. And if you see my wife wherever you are, tell her not to worry. I will either avenge the both of you, or join you."

The day of the fight

Rovan stood before the door to the arena, only dimly aware of the crowd outside. His gaze was steely, his mind focused. He would have to be focused for this. While the prince had seen almost no combat, he was still the spawn of a warrior queen. It would take everything he had to take down a dragon, even one unskilled in a fight. The doors started to open, sunlight pouring through. Showtime. He stepped forward as the arena master spoke loud to the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Norva! It is time for the main event of the day! And do we ever have an event for you today." As the arena master continued, he stepped out into the sunlight, and into the view of everyone watching. The arena was a large pit, ringed by walls of black stone, its name sake. Six pillars of the same material dotted around the pit, where tributes would be tied to be slaughtered by wild animals. The last time he was here, there had been several such 'shows' already. Today was different. Only a few gladiatorial bouts had happened to warm up the crowd for the main event they had come to see.

"Our newest champion, Rovan of Redfield! Only a scant few days after having won the position from the previous champion, he has been issued a challenge!" The crowed let out cheers, and some jeers, and a few whistles. He stood naked, as all gladiators did, and while he was not traditionally muscular like so many, he still thought he struck a fairly fetching figure. "He has accepted the challenge, as a true champion should! And just who is it that has challenged our new champion?"

As if to answer the question, the doors on the other end of the arena opened, revealing his opponent. "None other than our own Crown Prince Sirus Valian Behovis Negranta Kestra!" The young dragon stepped into the sunlight. He wore only a cloak over his shoulders, and a small royal circlet atop his head. The rest of him form was on full display, black scales almost shining in the light. He stood shoulders above Rovan, but about as lightly toned, his impressive cock swinging slightly as he stepped forward. The crowd let out cheers, but a few also called out that he should not be wearing anything if he planned to fight honorably.

The prince held his hands up, palms out, and spoke, his voice loud and clear. "My people!" The roar of the crowd dimmed, his voice carrying. "I stand before you today, not as your prince..." He reached up, taking the circlet off of his head. "But as another gladiator in the arena." He unclasped the cloak, setting his circlet within and wrapping it up. He handed the bundle to someone, a diminutive young ferret. The boy took the bundle and hurried back out of the arena, the doors closing behind him. "I will fight honorably, and win."

He turned to his mother. "For the honor of our great kingdom, and prove my worth to one day rule." He smiled. "But hopefully not too soon." This got some laughter from the crowd. Even Rovan smirked. The prince was making a show of this to play to his people's favor. But he knew the truth of the man's cowardice. "Does my great queen accept my conditions? That this fight is between warriors, and not those of different classes?" Sitting high atop her throne overlooking it all, Queen Devara nodded. Though she did not look too happy about it. He was playing as much to her as he was to the crowd. Possibly more so.

The arena master spoke once more. "To state for those that do not understand, the prince is setting aside his status as prince for this fight. He shall fight our champion as an equal!" The crowd started to cheer again. "These two brave warriors will fight to the death in honor of our lady, the benevolent Queen Devara Kavos Ilania Negranta Kestra. Fighters! Are you ready?" Sirus nodded, Rovan doing the same. "BEGIN!"

Rovan fell into a light stance, waiting to see what Sirus did. The prince adopted a similar one, but slowly approached. "I am surprised to see you here, little rat."

"Surprised that I still live?"

Sirus scoffed. "More surprised that you accepted. I would have thought my challenge would have sent you fleeing back to your little hole. I would still have hunted you down, of course, but this is just as fitting."

The rodent slowly stepped to the side. "You can send as many assassins as you like. They will all fail."

That seemed to catch the dragon by surprise. "Assassin? Hardly. I plan to kill you myself! I will avenge Vessira with my own hands!"

Now it was Rovan's turn to be caught by surprise. The snake had definitely said it was the prince that had sent her. Then a thought struck him. He turned just slightly to look at the queen sitting high above, glaring daggers at him. "Oh that conniving bitch." Of course it was the queen that has sent the assassin, probably with instructions to tell him it was the prince, or told through some other means the contract cam from the prince. She was devious.

Sirus growled. "How dare you speak of her that way!" The shout made him snap back to the moment, just in time for a fist to smash into his face and send him crashing to the sand. "She was orders of magnitude more the champion you are, rodent!"

For a moment, he had no idea what the dragon was talking about. He must have spoken aloud the insult at the queen. With no context, the prince thought he meant Vessira. That could still work to his advantage, though. He rolled away to avoid a foot stomping down on him, just managing to push himself back up and step a few paces away. "She was an old relic, sat too long at the top."

He had to duck under a swipe, claws rending the air just above his head. "She was a glorious, powerful warrior!" The prince punched, again avoided. "You cheated. Somehow, you must have. Poisoned her in some way!"

"I did no such thing. She had gone soft and slow with age." He just barely avoided a kick sent at him, only to be caught by the dragon's tail smashing into his chest. He felt something pop inside his chest as he was sent flying backwards, tumbling in the sand once more. He coughed, spitting up a gob of blood. "I really need to start watching out for lizards and their tails..." Halfway through pushing himself up, a dark shadow cast over him. He looked up, only to yelp in surprise.

The prince was not looming over him as he expected. Instead, the man had launched himself into the air, wings spread wide. With a hard flap, he sent himself rocketing downward, slamming a knee into the sand, Rovan having scrambled just out of the way. The rat managed to get back up onto his feet, backing away. Sirus turned, his wings still spread. "You look scared, rat." As the rodent backed up, the dragon followed, almost exuding an aura of pure malice. "You should be. I will rend your body open."

Rovan saw the swing coming, but he had positioned himself purposefully. He ducked, just as the fist went over his head. Instead of hitting him, it smacked hard into the stone pillar above him, and the prince cried out in pain. It was the same trick he had used against the lioness, and he was honestly surprised it worked twice. Not wasting the opportunity, he launched himself forward, driving a flurry of punches against the dragon's belly and chest. The scales there were softer than the rest, but it was still like punching leather on a wooden dummy.

Expecting the tail this time, he hopped up, only to stomp his foot down upon it, making Sirus scream in pain and rage. With a quick turn of his whole body, he used his wing to shove the rat away, not quite enough to knock him over this time. "Cheap tricks!"

The rat drove a fist upwards, smashing the dragon's jaw shut in an uppercut. It was enough to make the larger man take a few steps back. "There are no rules to survival! You might know that if you were not so pampered." He was again surprised he was able to land that blow.

Sirus wiped his nose, finding a bit of blood on the back of his hand. He actually grinned. "Not bad." The two men squared off again. With their blood and adrenaline pumping, the both had grown hard, giving those in the audience quite the show. "Fine. No rules? Then let's see how you deal with a dragon." He launched himself up into the air again, only to dive back down. Rovan cursed, running around one of the pillars to avoid the swiping claws. This time, Sirus did not slam into the ground, but rose back up once more, staying out of reach of any counter attack. "What's the matter, rat? Can't reach me!?" He swooped down again, and Rovan again had to dive around the pillar. "Are you just going to dance around all day?"

The rat was panting heavily. This time it was his turn to get worn down. Sirus was also showing some fatigue, but there was no way he could outlast a young dragon. He had to find a way to end this. As he moved around the pillar once more, he grabbed one of the chains dangling from it. He used it to scramble up, until he was atop the pillar itself. Sirus turned just in time to see the rat suddenly leaping at him. The two collided in the air, the force enough to knock the man from the sky.

They both slammed down onto the ground hard enough to kick up a cloud of dust and sand. Rovan was sent tumbling away while Sirus coughed and groaned. "Son... of a... bitch!" The prince started to push himself up, only to suddenly feel a body pressed against his back, arms wrapped about his head. He reached up and dug his claws into those arms, making Rovan cry out in agony. Blood drooled from the gashes being drawn into him, but he did not release his grip. He stomped one foot down onto one of those black wings, pinning it to keep him grounded.

Rovan grit his teeth, holding hard onto the man's head as he thrashed. He spoke through his teeth. "Alana of Redfield. My wife. Died as one of your chosen tributes." He grunted as Sirus tried to throw him off. "Killed... by the hands of your fucking whore champion." The claws again raked at his arms. "I killed her. And now you are next!" He suddenly twisted his whole body. There was an audible CRACK as the bones snapped.

The dragon's body jerked, then started to tremble. He saw the man's eyes suddenly go wide, slit pupils reduced to thin lines. He leaned forward. "Your mother will be next." He then dropped the man's head to the dirt, staggering back and nearly falling onto his own ass. The crowd was utterly silent as they stared at him. He had just killed the crown prince. Sure, everyone said that status did not matter, but... they never believed the rodent had a chance against a dragon.

All eyes turned to the queen. She sat, staring down at the pit, calm rage seething just below her blank expression. Eventually, she spoke. "The fight... between two equals... is decided." The crowd suddenly erupted into cheers. Rovan turned to look up at her, panting heavily, his arms aching badly from the gashes still oozing blood. He smirked up at her as his eyes met hers. She glared back at him, as if she could burn a hole into his skull by just her gaze. He knew what would come next. His hardest challenge yet. It was a miracle that she had not flown down to gut him right then and there, but she was bound by her own status as queen to follow certain rules. At least in public.

He would have to be on his toes from now on, more than ever. He had effectively just declared war on a woman twice his size, who had singlehandedly won battles by her presence on the field. Now he was truly in danger.

* * *