"And how am I to do that, Vriska?" Tavros replied, adjusting the horse's saddle without turning to face the dark-haired woman at his back. Eyes the color of Autumn leaves turned to her and she felt that familiar heat in the pit of her stomach. But his gaze was cold and the warmth only lasted a moment. "I could no more trust you than trust a viper at my heel not to strike." His words were soft, but firm, lacking the stutters and pauses his speech held when they met. It was the way she'd always wished it, but now this steel was turned on her and it cut deeply.
"All I have done, I have done for u--f-for you," she amended, stepping closer. Tavros only snorted and moved around his steed, as if even the space of her touch was poisonous.
"For you, not I." His eyes turned to her once more, and she thought she detected bitterness in their depths. Did that give her comfort? A little, perhaps. "And not us. There is no us."
She lifted her chin, glaring at him, and tossed her wild mane behind her shoulder. "Do not do me the discourtesy of lying, lord." The last word was venom on her tongue.
He said nothing to this, merely turned back to his horse, cinching its saddle tightly.
"You loved me once!" she pressed, moving to him again. When her taloned hand reached for his shoulder he slapped it away sharply, stepping from her grip.
"I loved a woman, not a witch!" he spat and her eyes, black as pitch, flashed dangerously. He met them without hesitance, standing taller and staring down at her. Out of the corner of her vision she saw his hand move to rest on the pommel of his sword and she breathed out slowly. "Tavros..."
"Lord Nitram, Vriska," he corrected, voice hard. After a pause, a slight smile flickered over his lips. No, not a smile - a smirk. "King, soon."
"Thanks be to me," she said flatly. He stared at her silently for a few moments, then reached out a hand to her cheek. She wanted to flinch, but her cursed instincts betrayed her and she pressed into his touch, eyelids sliding closed. His thumb traced her cheek so gently she could have sobbed for the want of it, but before her own hand could cup his, he pulled away. She opened her eyes questioningly and he gave her a smile of such icy loathing her flesh prickled.
"Yes, thanks be to you milady. I never could have rose so far in this world if you had not hardened my heart to the ideals of peace and charity and brotherhood." He turned from her and she nearly flung herself upon him in frustrated fury, all claw and teeth. But he could too easily kill her, and she could not kill him, so she stood and did nothing as he pulled himself up onto his steed, gathering the reins in his large hands.
"How like your father you are," she mused, attempting to regain the reins herself; but she knew she went too far when there was a flash of silver and she suddenly felt cold metal at her throat. She gasped, but managed to keep herself from stepping back.
"I will kill you if you say so again," he hissed and she swallowed thickly. "I am nothing like him, now, save all but demeanor, and that is a poor thing to copy without heart, without soul. I have risen far above his common blood and common morals; and I have you to thank for that, milady. Trust that I shall find a way to do so properly, someday." He removed his sword and Vriska rubbed her neck warily.
"I MADE you into a nobleman, into a King!" she growled desperately. What did she even want? Acknowledgment? Gratitude? A gods-be-damned thank you that was sincere? Perhaps not to be left here alone. "I made you into someone who could survive in this cruel world! And you shun me for it? You call me corrupt, cursed?! What right have you!"
Tavros dropped his head. "You think to survive in a cruel world you must become cruel in turn. You were taught well, and thus you came to teach me. I followed you long, but I follow you no longer." His lips slowly curled into a smile as sharp as a dagger's edge. "Ah, but I see what you crave. Shall I thank you from the depths of my blackened heart for this hell? So be it."
He turned and bowed low, above her. "I thank thee, lady, and thank thee well." He sat up. "And when I am King, I shall not rest until I have razed you and your kind from the earth and washed it clean with your blood."
She snarled at him, the threats long stale and meaningless. "You loved me!" Perhaps if she repeated it enough it might begin to mean something.
"The love I felt was an illusion, a conjured vision by a witch cursed by demons," he said airily, not looking at her again. Was this how he truly felt, or was it a comforting lie? She supposed it didn't matter either way now. Everything had turned to rot and it was much too late to leave this narrow path. They both knew they must travel it to its end.
"You are a fool, Tavros! You were always a fool and would be nothing without me. Does that knowledge keep you up at night, afraid and trembling, weak thing?" she sneered.
He laughed and she felt a trill of discomfort at how much it sounded like her own. "Screech all you want, witch. You will not be there at my side when I am crowned."
"All...all I gave for you, all I sacrificed to gain the Sight, to make you worthy!"
"All your plans," he replied in mock sympathy, tilting his head in sorrow. "But you are made of plans and machinations milady. You shall survive." His lip curled in a half-grin. "For awhile." And with a flick of the rein he was gone, galloping to the west, to the high city.
She watched him go for as long as it took his silhouette to melt into the setting sun. He was gone, strong and hard and unforgiving as a stone wall, and she was alone.
As night shadows slowly enveloped the moor, she drew the black stone from her pocket and stared into its depths, as she had a thousand times before, huddling with him beneath furs, dreaming perfect dreams.
"We both shall, my lord and King," she whispered, smile a flash of sharp white teeth in the dark.
FILL: TEAM DIRK<3EQUIUS
"And how am I to do that, Vriska?" Tavros replied, adjusting the horse's saddle without turning to face the dark-haired woman at his back. Eyes the color of Autumn leaves turned to her and she felt that familiar heat in the pit of her stomach. But his gaze was cold and the warmth only lasted a moment. "I could no more trust you than trust a viper at my heel not to strike." His words were soft, but firm, lacking the stutters and pauses his speech held when they met. It was the way she'd always wished it, but now this steel was turned on her and it cut deeply.
"All I have done, I have done for u--f-for you," she amended, stepping closer. Tavros only snorted and moved around his steed, as if even the space of her touch was poisonous.
"For you, not I." His eyes turned to her once more, and she thought she detected bitterness in their depths. Did that give her comfort? A little, perhaps. "And not us. There is no us."
She lifted her chin, glaring at him, and tossed her wild mane behind her shoulder. "Do not do me the discourtesy of lying, lord." The last word was venom on her tongue.
He said nothing to this, merely turned back to his horse, cinching its saddle tightly.
"You loved me once!" she pressed, moving to him again. When her taloned hand reached for his shoulder he slapped it away sharply, stepping from her grip.
"I loved a woman, not a witch!" he spat and her eyes, black as pitch, flashed dangerously. He met them without hesitance, standing taller and staring down at her. Out of the corner of her vision she saw his hand move to rest on the pommel of his sword and she breathed out slowly.
"Tavros..."
"Lord Nitram, Vriska," he corrected, voice hard. After a pause, a slight smile flickered over his lips. No, not a smile - a smirk. "King, soon."
"Thanks be to me," she said flatly. He stared at her silently for a few moments, then reached out a hand to her cheek. She wanted to flinch, but her cursed instincts betrayed her and she pressed into his touch, eyelids sliding closed. His thumb traced her cheek so gently she could have sobbed for the want of it, but before her own hand could cup his, he pulled away. She opened her eyes questioningly and he gave her a smile of such icy loathing her flesh prickled.
"Yes, thanks be to you milady. I never could have rose so far in this world if you had not hardened my heart to the ideals of peace and charity and brotherhood." He turned from her and she nearly flung herself upon him in frustrated fury, all claw and teeth. But he could too easily kill her, and she could not kill him, so she stood and did nothing as he pulled himself up onto his steed, gathering the reins in his large hands.
"How like your father you are," she mused, attempting to regain the reins herself; but she knew she went too far when there was a flash of silver and she suddenly felt cold metal at her throat. She gasped, but managed to keep herself from stepping back.
"I will kill you if you say so again," he hissed and she swallowed thickly. "I am nothing like him, now, save all but demeanor, and that is a poor thing to copy without heart, without soul. I have risen far above his common blood and common morals; and I have you to thank for that, milady. Trust that I shall find a way to do so properly, someday." He removed his sword and Vriska rubbed her neck warily.
"I MADE you into a nobleman, into a King!" she growled desperately. What did she even want? Acknowledgment? Gratitude? A gods-be-damned thank you that was sincere? Perhaps not to be left here alone. "I made you into someone who could survive in this cruel world! And you shun me for it? You call me corrupt, cursed?! What right have you!"
Tavros dropped his head. "You think to survive in a cruel world you must become cruel in turn. You were taught well, and thus you came to teach me. I followed you long, but I follow you no longer." His lips slowly curled into a smile as sharp as a dagger's edge. "Ah, but I see what you crave. Shall I thank you from the depths of my blackened heart for this hell? So be it."
He turned and bowed low, above her. "I thank thee, lady, and thank thee well." He sat up. "And when I am King, I shall not rest until I have razed you and your kind from the earth and washed it clean with your blood."
She snarled at him, the threats long stale and meaningless. "You loved me!" Perhaps if she repeated it enough it might begin to mean something.
"The love I felt was an illusion, a conjured vision by a witch cursed by demons," he said airily, not looking at her again. Was this how he truly felt, or was it a comforting lie? She supposed it didn't matter either way now. Everything had turned to rot and it was much too late to leave this narrow path. They both knew they must travel it to its end.
"You are a fool, Tavros! You were always a fool and would be nothing without me. Does that knowledge keep you up at night, afraid and trembling, weak thing?" she sneered.
He laughed and she felt a trill of discomfort at how much it sounded like her own. "Screech all you want, witch. You will not be there at my side when I am crowned."
"All...all I gave for you, all I sacrificed to gain the Sight, to make you worthy!"
"All your plans," he replied in mock sympathy, tilting his head in sorrow. "But you are made of plans and machinations milady. You shall survive." His lip curled in a half-grin. "For awhile." And with a flick of the rein he was gone, galloping to the west, to the high city.
She watched him go for as long as it took his silhouette to melt into the setting sun. He was gone, strong and hard and unforgiving as a stone wall, and she was alone.
As night shadows slowly enveloped the moor, she drew the black stone from her pocket and stared into its depths, as she had a thousand times before, huddling with him beneath furs, dreaming perfect dreams.
"We both shall, my lord and King," she whispered, smile a flash of sharp white teeth in the dark.
"For awhile."