I'm afraid it'll take more than a little nudity to shock me.
( this is an objective truth. he's old. he's seen things and done things ㅡ endured things ㅡ she can't possibly imagine.
saying that it's easy for him, though, is a mistake. so much of this place grates on him. anathema to everything he stands for. but he is patient, eventually he'll find the cracks in their system and he'll dig in his fingers until it bleeds. )
[ the blisters that have already started on her feet ache exposed to the air, brushed by concrete and stone. but it's better than the leather sandals rubbing against them more.
the arena comes into better view, a hastily prepared gladiatorial ring with stadium seats. down in the center, two women slick with oil grapple for one another's most intimate places. skin sliding on skin. a member of the audience on a bench to their left has taken to pleasuring herself to the site, skirt hiked up, fingers inside of herself.
it is no different than applause, alina supposes, to these people. she squares her shoulders like she's preparing for battle, eyes darting up only briefly to meet the cold gray of the darkling's. ]
he casts an eye over the crowd, lingering briefly on the woman and her skirt, unabashed in her pleasure, before returning to alina. she's getting better at masking her emotions but there are still cracks in the veneer. a young girl's uncertainty shining through. )
Angry with the city officials who pulled me out of war and death into luxuries like our world hasn't seen?
[ he's seen the books piled beside her bathtub by now. the art in the downstairs. the frozen pre-made dinners that he'd had to clear out to stock the kitchen in any reasonable fashion for him to cook instead. ]
Don't start on the cost. It's too ironic. [ she gestures up ahead. ] Here. [ she steps into the row of bench seating, and when she has made herself comfortable sitting down, she places her hand on the seat next to her to keep him from occupying it. ] No. Kneel.
[ only when he has complied does she continue. ]
This city has done nothing to me that you haven't already done. [ he too had given her luxury as a cage, had put a collar on her and controlled her power and her freedom, had used her desires against her. ] I'm beyond angry. I'm strategizing.
Strange how strategizing looks so much like putting down roots.
( because it's not like she's hidden how tired she is of the war, how ready she is for things to be over; for all its quirks, the city offers her a life of comfortable luxury at very little cost to her, personally, if only she can look away from everything else. )
[ coming from him, that doesn't feel like a compliment. it sounds like he's calling her ruthless, accusing her of using power as he would. and if she's doing that, isn't she doing it wrong? isn't the whole point of doing this to be a better alternative to him?
the implications trouble her. such that she brings her nails to her mouth, fidgeting as the arena is cleared out and the new, clean, nude wrestlers are brought out. ]
Worried I'll remain here, and you won't have a way to control the Fold?
You're right, of course. ( he says, turning away to consider the arena and its new occupants. two men, this time. roughly of a similar size and build — though as they are stripped, it becomes clear that the one is a submissive and the other a dominant.
he jerks his chin toward the spectacle, ) How do they select their challengers, do you think?
[ she finds it hard to look at them. even months in, it still feels strange to just baldly stare at a naked man. some part of her stirs in complaint. she stomps it down, and only glances away to regard the darkling. ]
( it would certainly be one way to spice up an otherwise tame evening. he realizes, even as he says it, that he probably shouldn't be giving her ideas given the mood she's in, but it might be worth it simply to see her reaction. )
If you'd like to see me naked, you know you need only ask. Though I'm not sure the suit would survive.
[ discomfort flares in her expression, mouth agape, something angry furrowing her brow. he's made her uncomfortable on purpose, stirred in her the memory of his nakedness. she can't help that she's attracted to him, perhaps. can't defend against the draw he has.
but she doesn't have to fall for his bait. instead of snapping back that she's seen enough of it, she presses her lips together. he's right. she is the one with the power, who could see him naked whenever she pleased. so she shouldn't be the uncomfortable one. ]
Is that so? [ she narrows her eyes down at him. ] Take off your clothes.
And will you be oiling me yourself, moya soverenyi? ( he asks, casual as you please as he sloughs off his jacket. he's quick and efficient as he strips, foregoing any attempts to tease, because, tone aside, this is far from playful teasing. )
Or will you be allowing someone else the pleasure?
And will you be able to keep your eyes on the match?
( he's not even pretending not to taunt her, now. working his shirt open and bearing the sunburst scar to the open air — if anything, that is the true sign of her ownership, more than the collar will be. )
[ but her heart beats faster, seeing that scar on his chest. her fingers twitch with the desire to reach out and touch it, to trace the edges of her good work. she redirects her attention down to the arena, where the contenders have begun grappling with one another.
it seems messier, somehow, now that she can see at least one of them is hard. dangerous, in a way, because they're more likely to get injured than the women had been. ]
( his voice drops lower, like they're sharing a secret or perhaps that's real anger edging the words. who can tell with him? )
I might get jealous. ( the shirt joins the jacket on the seat she kept him from taking. and the thing is, he's not joking. unspoken goes the fact that he might feel inclined to do something unpleasant to remedy those feelings. )
[ it's almost disappointing how predictably her eyes snap back to him. fear jumps up in her chest, stomping its feet to be heard like a tantruming child. that's what he's doing, she realizes. trying to throw his weight around and prove he still has some power, some authority, no matter where she tries to set the bounds.
she smothers the fury in her eyes. ]
You had best learn how to deal with your jealousy, then.
[ it felt like something slipping through her fingers. something so fragile it'd shatter when it hit the ground. alina's whole body tenses in anticipation. her voice drops to a furious whisper. ]
This was the deal. You do what I tell you. You don't argue with me. I'm the Dominant.
You can bend me to your will in many ways, Alina Starkov. ( he says, tugging the belt from its loops and letting it fall casually to the ground. ) Some I enjoy more than others.
But even you can't tell me what to feel and what to think.
I can damn well tell you not to act on those feelings.
[ she spits it out, too panicked by the still present threat of him lashing out. he hadn't spoken it. but they both knew her real concern over his jealousy. ]
[ alina gets to her feet with him. sitting would only mean having his cock hanging in her face, and she has enough sense not to be thus insulted. but she's still smaller than him by a longshot, so it could not look more like a mouse snarling at an elephant. ]
If you think I have not imagined a thousand ways to make you regret what you've done ... [ but he hasn't done anything yet. he's baiting her. as of now, all he has done is obey her orders and taunt her. and realizing it turns her face red with the greater fury of humiliation.
she takes a deep breath. gets quiet instead of loud. the way he does. ] Perhaps you should consider what other parts of you I might brand with my mark.
( to his credit, his expression doesn't so much as ripple in the wake of her fury. it remains calm and settled despite the charge that hangs in the air between them. a charge that has nothing to do with the roaring crowd and the sound of the fighters below. )
And you do so relish the thought of touching me, don't you?
( his voice is pitched low, soft and knowing. she might despise him — and truth to tell there are times when he feels similarly of her — but that is the one inalienable truth of them. that they will always be drawn to each other. )
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( this is an objective truth. he's old. he's seen things and done things ㅡ endured things ㅡ she can't possibly imagine.
saying that it's easy for him, though, is a mistake. so much of this place grates on him. anathema to everything he stands for. but he is patient, eventually he'll find the cracks in their system and he'll dig in his fingers until it bleeds. )
Are you uncomfortable, being here?
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[ the blisters that have already started on her feet ache exposed to the air, brushed by concrete and stone. but it's better than the leather sandals rubbing against them more.
the arena comes into better view, a hastily prepared gladiatorial ring with stadium seats. down in the center, two women slick with oil grapple for one another's most intimate places. skin sliding on skin. a member of the audience on a bench to their left has taken to pleasuring herself to the site, skirt hiked up, fingers inside of herself.
it is no different than applause, alina supposes, to these people. she squares her shoulders like she's preparing for battle, eyes darting up only briefly to meet the cold gray of the darkling's. ]
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( simply put.
he casts an eye over the crowd, lingering briefly on the woman and her skirt, unabashed in her pleasure, before returning to alina. she's getting better at masking her emotions but there are still cracks in the veneer. a young girl's uncertainty shining through. )
I would have you be angry, if anything.
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[ he's seen the books piled beside her bathtub by now. the art in the downstairs. the frozen pre-made dinners that he'd had to clear out to stock the kitchen in any reasonable fashion for him to cook instead. ]
Don't start on the cost. It's too ironic. [ she gestures up ahead. ] Here. [ she steps into the row of bench seating, and when she has made herself comfortable sitting down, she places her hand on the seat next to her to keep him from occupying it. ] No. Kneel.
[ only when he has complied does she continue. ]
This city has done nothing to me that you haven't already done. [ he too had given her luxury as a cage, had put a collar on her and controlled her power and her freedom, had used her desires against her. ] I'm beyond angry. I'm strategizing.
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( because it's not like she's hidden how tired she is of the war, how ready she is for things to be over; for all its quirks, the city offers her a life of comfortable luxury at very little cost to her, personally, if only she can look away from everything else. )
It suits you, power.
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the implications trouble her. such that she brings her nails to her mouth, fidgeting as the arena is cleared out and the new, clean, nude wrestlers are brought out. ]
Worried I'll remain here, and you won't have a way to control the Fold?
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( something terrible, his tone clearly implies. they think they know what it is, what it can do, but they really have no idea.
even he, centuries after its creation, has barely scratched the surface of what it is and what it's truly capable of. )
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[ she scoffs. ]
You'll have to be more creative.
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he jerks his chin toward the spectacle, ) How do they select their challengers, do you think?
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[ she finds it hard to look at them. even months in, it still feels strange to just baldly stare at a naked man. some part of her stirs in complaint. she stomps it down, and only glances away to regard the darkling. ]
Thinking of throwing your hat in the ring?
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( it would certainly be one way to spice up an otherwise tame evening. he realizes, even as he says it, that he probably shouldn't be giving her ideas given the mood she's in, but it might be worth it simply to see her reaction. )
If you'd like to see me naked, you know you need only ask. Though I'm not sure the suit would survive.
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but she doesn't have to fall for his bait. instead of snapping back that she's seen enough of it, she presses her lips together. he's right. she is the one with the power, who could see him naked whenever she pleased. so she shouldn't be the uncomfortable one. ]
Is that so? [ she narrows her eyes down at him. ] Take off your clothes.
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Or will you be allowing someone else the pleasure?
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[ she bares her teeth as she says it. ]
You're going to stay right here. With me. Because I decided it.
[ and he's right. she can dictate her every whim and corner him into discomfort that way until his far outweighs her own. ]
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( he's not even pretending not to taunt her, now. working his shirt open and bearing the sunburst scar to the open air — if anything, that is the true sign of her ownership, more than the collar will be. )
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[ but her heart beats faster, seeing that scar on his chest. her fingers twitch with the desire to reach out and touch it, to trace the edges of her good work. she redirects her attention down to the arena, where the contenders have begun grappling with one another.
it seems messier, somehow, now that she can see at least one of them is hard. dangerous, in a way, because they're more likely to get injured than the women had been. ]
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( his voice drops lower, like they're sharing a secret or perhaps that's real anger edging the words. who can tell with him? )
I might get jealous. ( the shirt joins the jacket on the seat she kept him from taking. and the thing is, he's not joking. unspoken goes the fact that he might feel inclined to do something unpleasant to remedy those feelings. )
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[ it's almost disappointing how predictably her eyes snap back to him. fear jumps up in her chest, stomping its feet to be heard like a tantruming child. that's what he's doing, she realizes. trying to throw his weight around and prove he still has some power, some authority, no matter where she tries to set the bounds.
she smothers the fury in her eyes. ]
You had best learn how to deal with your jealousy, then.
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I think not.
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[ it felt like something slipping through her fingers. something so fragile it'd shatter when it hit the ground. alina's whole body tenses in anticipation. her voice drops to a furious whisper. ]
This was the deal. You do what I tell you. You don't argue with me. I'm the Dominant.
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But even you can't tell me what to feel and what to think.
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[ she spits it out, too panicked by the still present threat of him lashing out. he hadn't spoken it. but they both knew her real concern over his jealousy. ]
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( he smiles and, oh, it is not a nice smile at all. it's a smile that's all teeth and challenge.
a smile made even as he pushes his trousers down over his hips, baring himself to her and anyone else in a mind to look. )
Punish me?
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If you think I have not imagined a thousand ways to make you regret what you've done ... [ but he hasn't done anything yet. he's baiting her. as of now, all he has done is obey her orders and taunt her. and realizing it turns her face red with the greater fury of humiliation.
she takes a deep breath. gets quiet instead of loud. the way he does. ] Perhaps you should consider what other parts of you I might brand with my mark.
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And you do so relish the thought of touching me, don't you?
( his voice is pitched low, soft and knowing. she might despise him — and truth to tell there are times when he feels similarly of her — but that is the one inalienable truth of them. that they will always be drawn to each other. )
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