NationStates Jolt Archive

Nathicana settles back into the deep tub with a grateful sigh, closing her eyes and leaning her head back while her arms rest along the rim. It was only water and scented bubbles, true, but in her mind it seemed to help wash away more than just the smell of smoke and ash.

Devon steps into the room and reaches for the belt on his robe. "There, that should give us some privacy for a while. I'll leave it to you when you want S.H.O.D.A.N. to come by and look you over. You really should have let Konrad's people look at your wounds."

She looks over at him and frowns, eyes fixed on watching what his hands are doing. "No, I shouldn't have. I told you, I'm fine. Stop playing mother hen. It doesn't suit you."

The Emperor drops the robe and strides naked to the tub. "It's my turn to cluck. I'd still feel better if your sister checked you out." He sits on the edge and gazes down at her. "I thought I was going to lose you. I couldn't stand it. So you'll just have to forgive me if I overreact. I want you healthy and whole. I still have plans for you, Dread Lady."

Nathicana moves her arm as he sits down, leaning away slightly, her gaze shifting to an undefined point in front of her somewhere among the bubbles. "It's done, Dev. It's over. I'm fine, and I do not want to talk about it." She sinks down further into the water, bringing her other arm in as well. "I have plans as well. It's best we get on with them, just as we intended."

Devon swings his leg over the tub and tests the water. Apparently satisfied, he steps in and settles himself next to her. "We can talk later. I'm just glad you're home." His hand seeks out hers under the bubbles.

The raven-haired woman tenses as he gets in, then gradually shifts to try and relax against him, giving his hand a little squeeze. "I am too," she says softly, her frown turning to one of quiet contemplation.

He leans back and closes his eyes with a sigh. "Cesare has things well in hand. Once he convinced me he wasn't behind the disappearance, he focused on the contingency plans the two of you put together. You're on retreat for a while, so you don't have to worry about public appearances until you're ready. He's got more details than I do naturally, but he knows you're back and he'll keep covering you."

"He knows his business. I wouldn't have kept him if he didn't," she replies, reaching for the soap and soft mesh scrubber. She begins washing methodically, beginning at her hands and taking her time. If she seems to be scrubbing perhaps more than is warranted, perhaps it can be explained by her distracted demeanor.

Devon soaks a while longer. "I'll have to think of some suitable way to be nice to him. I really thought you were making a mistake with him, but the two of you have proven me wrong. It's one of the few times I'm happy to admit it." Eventually he drags himself into a proper sitting position and reaches for another scrubber. "Can I get your back?"

She pauses in her scrubbing for a moment to consider, then nods briefly. "I don't like wasting good material. He lost focus is all. He's been brought back on track. And he knows exactly what the consequences are for letting himself get ... distracted again. I hope you didn't rough him up too much."

Devon applies soap to the mesh and begins scrubbing firmly. "Oh, I barked a bit, but otherwise I didn't touch him. It helped that he came to me, first. Then he locked everything down and helped me find you. Agwene was particularly helpful in that regard, although I don't think she knows how much."

Nathicana flinches as he starts in, images coming unbidden to her mind of other rough hands grasping at her from behind, and whispered promises of ... "Don't," she says, shrinking a bit further away and looking back over her shoulder at him. She pauses again, then shrugs and settles back slowly, eyes once more focused ahead. "Gently, please. Just a bit sore is all."

"I'm sorry." He strokes her back gently, frowning at the marks. "Gently, right." I didn't get there any too soon. He starts to scrub with a much lighter hand. After a moment he's forced to cover a yawn with his free hand. "I don't think I can stay in this tub too long. It feels great, but it's putting me to sleep, and there are satin sheets waiting for us."

"You go ahead," she says, shifting now and then under his efforts, one hand coming up to grip the side of the tub, still looking straight ahead. "I'd like to soak for a while longer."

Devon pauses to rinse her back, then give himself a quick once-over before wearily climbing out of the water and into a fresh robe. He pauses to yawn widely once more, this time covering his mouth with both hands. "Oh. Yeah. I'll see you in bed. Forgive me if I don't wake up when you get there."

She nods, watching him from the corner of her eye as he walks into the other room, and relaxing back into the tub after he gets himself settled.

What I chiefly need is the Delacou--no. No, I'm fine. And the water feels good.

She scowls all the same, shrinking down further til her the water laps at her chin.

I am fine. No need to trouble mia sorella - it would only upset her.

She scowls more deeply as she forcibly pushes aside any thoughts other than those things she needs to deal with presently. The wedding. Meeting with Calabrese and the Ministers later. Dealing with the Nobles. Working out the kinks on the new budget. Increased security here at the villa.

"No, I'm fine," she says with quiet vehemence, hugging her arms around herself closely. The sound of Devon begining to snore softly catches her attention, and she peeks over the rim of the tub to watch him for several quiet minutes.

Never thought I'd enjoy hearing him do that ...

"Morning, Ben." Treznor pauses to shovel a large portion of scrambled egg into his mouth while his Minister of Intelligence greets him by way of secure transmission. "Thanks. No, we're fine. Just recouperating. War is hell, as always. Speaking of which, I presume you passed on my req list to Mark?"

He pauses and chews methodically as he listens. "No, we're not engaging in another full-on war. We will, however, be supplying one." Another pause. "I know how it sounds, Ben. But this time we have a chance to succeed where we never did before."

He sips from his coffee and grins. "Because we're not going to be flying the black and silver for this campaign. What forces we'll be committing will be operating under the Dominion flag."

He pauses for the expected outburst, and is not disappointed. "Calm down, Ben. I know how logistics works. There are more political reasons for this than practical ones. The Ardan forces we'll be supporting --"

He's forced to pause again, his grin becoming wider with each word. "Yes. I said Ardan forces. We're going to be feeding and tending Konrad Althalon's forces. Yes, that's right. The guys in rebellion against Melkor. Anyway, after all the things we've done to them in the past, they're likely to shoot at us as much as the real enemy. So we won't be flying our colours. They'll work with Nath's people, so that's who we'll be officially."

He snorts with amusement. "That's right. I'm the Boss, so be a good boy and break the news to the staff. I'm going to be here for a little while longer."

He eats more eggs as he watches documents flash by his eyes on the screen before him. "Hmm...that doesn't look good. I'll hazard a guess that Alkanphel's death...." He pauses to savour that phrase. "Yeah, morale is bad. But orcs aren't known for their staying power. Look there, Althalon's forces are already regaining ground. I want the first load of supplies ready to head there. I'll get in touch with his generals and arrange mutual security. We want to minimise the friendly fire as much as possible. His goals may currently coincide with mine, but I still don't trust the bastard more than I have to."

He nods to the air as he receives Ben's report. "All right. Sounds good. What else is happening in the world?"

Then his ears pick up sounds of someone stirring in the next room. "Scratch that, burst the full report to me and I'll go over it later. I've got to go."

He sighs and shrugs. "She's fine. She keeps telling me, anyway. She needs more help than she'll admit, but it's always been that way. She's a survivor, she'll pull through."

He smiles. "Good man. I'll be in touch." He takes off the headset and crams the last of the egg into his mouth as he heads back to the bedroom.

"Hey there, Red. Sorry if I woke you."

The Bedroom

Nathicana wakes looking less than rested. Her eyes travel over Treznor as if trying to both memorize every inch of him, and assure herself that he is there and in one piece. "S'no worry," she mumbles, stretching, then getting out of bed gingerly. "I think I'd like to call that meeting with Cesare this morning. And likely schedule a meet with the Ministry, at least via satlink. Not sure I want them all up here. What's your plans?" All this delivered casually enough while she goes about finding something to get dressed in.

"I was just talking with Ben, giving him my personal assurances that everything's in one piece." He steps fully into the room and smiles at her. "Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate today. Are you sure you wouldn't like to rest more? Maybe go for a swim and relax?"

She shakes her head firmly, pausing to button up a red silk shirt that goes with one of her business suits. "We've already lost valuable time. Aside from that, even with the new system in place, this is still the Dominion. Damned if I'm going to chum the waters with rumors that I am anything less than in control."

Treznor nods slowly. "Point taken. I need to follow up with Ben anyway. How about that swim after lunch? Take it easy in the afternoon."

Nathi gives him a sidelong look, eyes narrowing only slightly. "I'll see how the first meet goes, and see how I'm feeling after that. Fair enough?"

He smiles brightly. What's she thinking? "Fair enough. I'll be in here if you need me. I've gotta go over some documents Ben's sending me. Nothing critical, though. I'll probably be in and out all day."

Nathicana simply nods, and turns her attention back to getting dressed, pausing now and then to observe the results with an overly-critical eye, and an uncharacteristic frown.

-----------------

Meeting with Cesare

As expected, Cesare watched her like a hawk, though he kept his expressions carefully controlled. The questions he asked gave more away than perhaps he intended, and Nathi noted with some satisfaction that aside from the obvious concern, his primary emotion seemed to be one of relief.

They took a light brunch in the gardens, the table shaded by a khanki-colored canvas umbrella set well away from the wall. While Nathi's chair faced in the direction of the wall, as was her usual habit, she avoided looking at it throughout the conversation, sipping her customary ice water and for the most part, speaking easily as she always did in more casual settings.

News of her intentions to go to war was met with initial alarm, then grudging agreement. A confrontation of some sort or other had been brewing for some time. The fact that they would not be alone in this effort and that Morgoth's own people were rebelling took some of the sting from it. For his own part, Cesare was as proud a man as any Dominion citizen. Having had Ardan dogs make so free with his nation, and his leader (upon whom he felt his own continued existance hinged) was an insult he was ill-prepared to take laying down. It was high time something was done about it, in his opinion. And according to information from the military, they felt much the same. No Dominioner had ever taken sneers and jabs at their honor well - it was a racial trait to carry grudges. The situation on Io and dealings elsewhere chafed. It was the opinion of many that the military had been too quiet for too long. Their last large encounter had been something that only a fraction of them had taken part in, and something that now, many regretted - supporting Iraqstan.

He took great pains to assure her that what efforts could be made at covering for the recent unpleasantness had been made, though given the scale, it had been impossible to keep it entirely quiet within the ranks of the military. Given the support and defference she had always shown them, however, it seemed that overall they were only that much more determined to do what they could to support her in turn. Problems had been few, and dealt with swiftly.

Pellegrino had been beside himself over the whole affair, and Cesare strongly suggested that her next meeting be with him, and Torino, along with the higher-ranking military officers. The Ministry had been taken care of, operating on a need to know basis for the most part, while keeping the Ministers themselves informed of the situation.

When he mentioned Agwene, Nathi had withdrawn slightly, looking uncomfortable. She had been the only witness to what had happened. Proof that it actually had. There could be no denying the Princess when it came to any discussion. She found herself reluctant to meet with her on account. With everyone else, she could pretend as much as she liked. With Agwene ... Nathi frowned and moved the conversation on to other points.

As well, his condolensces concerning Alkanphel were met with a cool nod, and a tight jaw, her eyes hardening as she dismissed the topic as 'the cost of going to war'. Her demeanor made it quite clear that this topic was then to be considered closed. Cesare wisely dropped it and moved on, making note to discuss it quietly with Pellegrino and perhaps, if his nerve held, with the Emperor later.

She concluded at the end, that it had all gone surprisingly smoothly and was satisfied that the proper actions would be taken where need be according to her instructions. For his part, Cesare was left with the impression that the Dread Lady was as formidable as she ever was, save for the little tells she unconsciously gave away. Like the way she almost flinched when he had reached for the basket of crostini. And how she had avoided looking at the wall. And how, now and then, certain topics had seemed to make her uncomfortable for no discernable reason. And of course, her vehement insistence that their forces would be prepped to go at a moment's notice, without delay. Something more than being abducted had shaken her - that was plain enough. Equally plain was the fact that she was determined to keep whatever it was to herself.

Nathicana parted feeling she had gotten the answers she wanted. Cesare left with more questions than he had begun with.

-----------------

Dinner at the villa

"Care for more pasta, Dev?" Nathi asks casually as she helps herself to a bit more of the mixed dish. "I swear, I never get tired of Dom's cooking."

Treznor nods enthusiastically, caught with his mouth full. After a moment he gulps and grins. "Of course. And pass the salad, please."

She smiles, passing on first one, then the other as he makes room for them. "All well with Ben and the Empire, then?"

Treznor nods. "They're scrambling to deal with my unreasonable demands. They weren't expecting to go to war again, least of all with Arda. Nor are they particularly happy to be operating under the Dominion. In their own way, they're as proud as anyone you'll find in Devras."

"Of course they are," she says with a nod, though she looks mildly amused for a brief moment. "This will certainly be a test. A good many of our fleets have been itching to dice it up with Arda it seems. Thank our less than pleasant relations on Io for that, and their regular rotations there."

She pauses to savor a bite of the pasta, chewing thoughtfully. "I'm not entirely sure how the rest of the nation will take it, given our longstanding peace and prosperity. As much as I hate to admit, we have gotten a bit soft."

Treznor nods as he dishes out more greens. "Our forces remember the last time. We had the high ground then, too. Still, a lot of those veterans have retired and the green ones won't know what they're getting into. With this on top of an economic slump, this is going to get very interesting."

He takes a bite of his salad and chews contemplatively. "I saw S.H.O.D.A.N. today. Got her to give me a checkup. I overdid it, of course, but not too bad. A little rest and recouperation and I'll be fine."

Nathicana pauses mid-bite, glancing sharply over at Treznor, then chewing deliberately, watching for any tells. "Good to know you didn't damange yourself more than you did with all that foolishness," she finally says, still watching him as she reaches for her wine, which she sips slowly.

"I'm glad to hear it too." He puts down his fork and meets her gaze intently. "In its own way, this body requires more care and maintenance than the old one. If something goes wrong, I can't depend on traditional medicine. They won't know what to do with me."

"All part and parcel, my dear," Nathi says, meeting his gaze firmly, her chin tilting up in that imperious way she has. "It's called 'tradeoffs'. Can't say as I'm sorry all the same. The alternatives were simply unacceptable."

"Agreed." He pauses, waiting for a moment. Then he shakes his head. "But we can't ignore those tradeoffs. And you haven't talked to her yet."

"I didn't fight my way through hordes of orcs and several trolls, nor try to single-handedly rip god-implanted restraints from a mountainside, either," she says, not giving ground. "I'm not ignoring a damn thing. I've had my mods a good bit longer than you have, boy. I bloody well know what I'm doing."

"No, you got captured, tortured and gods only know what else you haven't told me about. Not to mention starved and dehydrated. At the very least, you need to let her look you over. I stressed my limits a lot less than you did yours, whatever the reason. Please, for me if not yourself, let her check you out."

Nathicana sets her glass aside, glaring at the man and looking as though she's trying to come up with a really scathing reply, but having trouble finding just the right words. When she finally does speak, it's in a tightly-controlled, deadly quiet voice. "I know what happened. It wasn't nearly as bad as you're making it out to be. So I got roughed up a bit. It's nothing I haven't dealt with in the past. I'm taking care of it, Dev. Now leave it alone."

Treznor puts his hands on the table, open and relaxed. "Nath, I love you. More to the point, I trust you. But I'm not going to leave it alone. You're too important for that. Yes, you've dealt with it in the past. You also had S.H.O.D.A.N. to help you. Let her help you now. Remember the annelid?"

She rises from her seat, head held high, though she has both hands on the table to steady herself. "I love you too, Dev. This conversation, however, is over." And with that, she turns and goes to make her way to the stairs.

Treznor throws the glass against the wall by the door. "This conversation is not over. You're not going to sweep this under the rug. We've got to talk this out, and we can do it calmly or loudly. Either way."

Nathicana flinches visibly, reaching out to grip the doorway with a shaking hand. She doesn't look back, though she keeps her head down. "This is my house goddammit," she says sharply, then continues with a hint of pleading in her voice. "Don't make me call for security, Dev."

Treznor folds his arms and smirks. "What are they going to do? Shoot me? The only way you're going to stop me is if you do it yourself. You're the only one who can do it." He shakes his head. "But you're right, this is your house. If you like, we can continue this at my house. But we will do this. I am not one of your subjects, and I was never your 'yes-man.' You don't get to say no to this."

"The hell I don't, you son of a bitch," she mutters under her breath, snatching her hand away from the doorway angrily and starting up the stairs.

Treznor sighs and sits down to finish his meal. I'm sorry, Nath. But you don't. He fetches an unbroken glass and pours himself a double of the Delacourt. I wish you could.

Nathicana continues down the hall to her room, feeling jittery and sick. Too much too fast, including launching back in to her usual rich foods, so determined she had been to get back to her routine. Nathi locks the door to her room - something she never does - and rushes into the bathroom. She comes out some time later looking pale, and curls up on the bed, leaving the door locked.

Why can't he just leave me alone? I'm fine. Just need more time.

Treznor towels his hair dry and tosses it casually to one side before sending the robe to join it. His evening abulations complete, he slips between the covers of the luxurious bed and lays his head back on the pillow.

Nathicana lays curled up on her side and turned away, breathing slowly. She isn't sleeping, nor making any pretense to, just looking out across the room to the play of the moonlight on the floor and walls as it streams through the window. "Pretty, isn't it?" she murmurs softly.

He turns on his side and stares at her hair. "I always thought so. But you know, I still prefer it red."

"Hmm?" she says, half turning back to look at him curiously. It takes her a moment to catch on, then she shrugs and half-smiles, settling back in. "Silly boy. You're the only one who's ever called me that. Only one I think I'd ever let, come to think of it."

"As I recall, you were getting tired of it when I first met you. Blew it off as a passing fad and never went back. Still, it was my first impression of you, and I've always held that image in my mind." He shifts slightly to make himself more comfortable, then looks out the window where she had originally indicated. "Remember when the Moon was just a ball of rock and not overpopulated?"

"I remember when a lot of things were different," she says thoughtfully. "Amazing how fast things have changed. Not to mention the utterly absurd turns life has taken."

"Our lives have always been pretty fast-paced. Compared to average people anyway, but even before S.H.O.D.A.N. and Speaker's thrice-bedamned 'fractal reality' we were never average. My only surprise is that we lived this long."

Nathicana chuckles wryly. "We have had a close shave a time or two, I suppose. Still ... for the most part, I find it hard to say what I would or would not change, in some instances. We are what our experiences have molded us to become, no? Granted, there are some things I think I could have lived without, but," she gestures idly, scootching back against him just a little, frowning slightly. Not wanting to dwell on that, she moves on to safer ground. "Broken reality. Who would have thought?"

Treznor snuggles up in response, draping his arm over to rest his hand comfortably against her belly. "For all that we've been blessed with new opportunities and new realms to exploit, I almost wish it hadn't happened. Our lives would have been a lot less complicated, a lot more straightforward. Or maybe I'm just getting old and tired of challenges. I don't know. Is it wrong to wish for stability after creating so much chaos myself?"

She tenses briefly, covering it with a slow stretch, then rests her hand over his. "Stability isn't such a bad thing to wish for. Look at all the changes I've made here in the Dominion. All in an effort to gain stability. I wonder though, if it would have been possible without the break? As for tiring of challenges, mi amico, I suppose that depends on the challenge. I'm not sure we're cut out for a dull life, you know."

"No, I'm sure we're not. But sometimes I wish I could drop the whole Empire bit in someone else's lap and go play hooky now and again. I haven't really done that since my...accident." He trails a path around her navel. "But I'm afraid I can't. Everything I've done since then has had a purpose for one reason or another. I made myself king, so I can't complain when the crown gets heavy." He sighs and presses his face against her neck. "I blame you, of course."

Nathicana shivers at that, for a number of reasons, her hand tightening over his momentarily. She chooses not to mention having had a similar conversation once, with Cyng Eadwacer, during Blu's wedding there at the villa. "Puts me in mind of a line from a story I remember reading when I was younger. 'Death is light as a feather, duty is heavy as a mountain.'

"You and I, we've chosen our duty. You can blame me all you want, boy. But tell me. Now that you've had all this at your fingertips - the power, the ability to affect change on such a level, to be able to really make a difference, leave something lasting - would you really give all that up?"

"I told you. For you, I would." He lays still for a moment, breathing lightly against her neck. "I was prepared to throw my entire Empire at Melkor if it would get you back. But aside from that...no. Probably not. It's become something more than a ploy to get your attention. I suppose that realistically, I grew into the role."

She stops herself from telling him what a foolish thing that was to have done. Too close to topics she wishes to avoid for one. And for another, the quiet cuddling is comforting, and she has no intention of disturbing that. "Just as well you didn't have to then, Dev. No sense in fussing now, no? We're here, we are the leaders of our respective nations, for good or bad, and all is well."

He says nothing for the moment, for the nonce not wishing to renew the argument he knows will come.

Nathicana seems content, pressing back passively just a bit as she shifts to a more comfortable position. "All going to be fine," she murmurs, closing her eyes, and letting out a slow sigh of relief that the discussion she'd been fearing has passed.

"It will," he agrees quietly. "Eventually."

"Just get past all this wedding fuss," she continues in a drowsy voice.

Treznor shrugs gently, surrendering himself to sleep. The moment is too peaceful for him to interrupt it further. He awakens gradually to find himself sleeping in his own corner. The sound of peaceful breathing reaches his ears, and he slowly turns to watch her. If only it could last.

Nathicana is curled up on her side of the bed, arms wrapped around her pillow, dark hair fanned out in the usual disarray.

He props himself up on one arm and contents himself with watching her while planning his next step.

She eventually stirs, stretching out slowly and muttering something unintelligible in her native tongue. Reaching out, she shifts her bedside clock, and curses. "Dammit, overslept, again."

Treznor frowns and reaches out to gently touch her hand. "I was thinking about last night, and happily ever-afters."

"I--ah ... wha?" she stutters, rolling over and coming to much faster than she had planned. It takes a moment to register the frown and how it's at odds with the 'happily' bit, which causes her to frown with concern as well. "Goddammit, Dev. What now?"

The frown deepens momentarily before he banishes it. "About how to make them come true. Take a break, Red. You can afford to be late once in a while."

"It's important. Image, Dev. Continuity," she replies stubbornly, then relaxes back into the bed with a sigh, still frowning slightly. "I don't believe in 'happily-ever-afters'. I do believe in 'as happy as they could humanly manage', which is, I believe, what we've been working towards, yes? Hence, what is the problem?"

"So be late today. Keep them guessing, watch to see who twitches." He reaches for her hand again. "The problem is that we have a difference of opinion. We're not allowed to argue, so I propose a compromise. Let's see if we understand where the other is coming from. Maybe that'll help us out."

Nathicana goes very still as he speaks, her eyes going from irritation, to fear, to that familar stubborn cast he's become so familiar with. "That depends entirely on exactly what it is you're getting at, Dev," she says, a quiet warning in her voice.

Treznor lets the frown return unbidden and sits up. "Fine," he says quietly. "If that's the way you feel, I'll get out of your way. You know where to find me when you're ready."

She sits up and glares at him unashamedly for a moment, then stands up, whipping the sheet off the bed and wrapping it loosely around herself as she stomps off to gather some things from her closet for her usual morning workout, muttering curses under her breath that have everything to do with the man behind her.

He sighs and picks out his clothing for the day. Then he drops them to one side and pulls on sturdier, more comfortable clothing. With a muffin in one hand and a glass of juice in the other, he appears in the exercise yard as Nathicana is finishing her stretching exercises.

She glances over at him briefly, her mouth set in a firm line. Without a word she walks over to where her towel and water are waiting, takes a slow sip, then walks off towards the sparring dummies to find where she's left her gloves

He wolfs down the food in his hand before taking position and beginning his own stretches to limber up and prepare his muscles for more strenuous activity. After five minutes he moves off in the same direction and gets behind a dummy currently being pummeled to death. He braces it and prepares. "Okay, I'm set."

She takes another swing, this time a bit harder than truly necessary, not meeting his eyes. "Oh?," she says with mock casuality, gritting her teeth and pulling back for another punch.

Treznor grunts at the impact and settles himself a little lower. "At least one of us is."

She doesn't seem to pay his comment any mind, save for the renewed effort with the next blow, this one coming in higher. "Sleep well, I take it?" She continues in a light tone, though already she shows very subtle signs of the effort wearing on her.

"Very well, thanks. I'd ask the same, but I already know you didn't."

"The hell," she snaps. "I slept like a babe." Another blow, accompanied with a wince and a curse.

"Sure you did. You didn't have any nightmares whatsoever. You didn't end up in a corner curled up like a child." He pauses to brace again. "That's the story and we're stickin' to it."

Nathicana throws another punch, this time in no way aimed for the dummy.

Treznor jerks aside and steps away, arms folded. "You're awfully slow, this morning. I guess that deep sleep you were in still has you in its grips."

She curses spitefully, coming around the dummy to face him more fully, feinting right, then coming in with a left hook. "I'll bloody show you slow," she forces through clenched teeth. "Can't even shift positions without you playing Freud anymore, is it?"

He moves with the left strike and helps it along, guiding the arm farther along the original path with deceptive ease. "You're the one who doesn't want to talk. You get your wish. If you don't like having the truth pointed out to you, do something about it."

"There is nothing," she says, taking a swing with each emphasized word, "to talk ... about, goddammit! Why can't you just leave it be?"

He steps away from each blow, backing away and turning a circle until he's returned to the dummy, which he uses to interdict one of the strikes. "Because if there wasn't, you'd have better luck breaking my jaw right now."

He stops and stands perfectly still in the middle of the yard. "So go ahead. I won't move. Break it, if you want."

Nathicana pauses, breathing harder than she ought to be and glaring at him as she tries to rub the stiffness out of her arm. "And then what? Run you up to Shodey again? Is this your idea of luring me in, just to satisfy whatever need you seem to have past driving me insane with your nagging? If I wanted to I could have laid you out by now, boy." She leans down a bit, resting her hands on her knees, not meeting his eyes. "I choose not to."

"You're not going to forget what they did to you, Nath. Try as hard as you want, you won't. You shouldn't be out of breath so soon, and you shouldn't have so much trouble keeping up with me. You keep telling me you're fine but everything I'm seeing says you're not. First it's the physical. Then it's other things. You can't let this slide. You think your ministers and nobles won't catch on? You're giving them a weakness that'll stand out like a goddamned spotlight."

"Shut up, Dev," she mutters, still not looking up. "Just shut up."

Treznor steps up and shoves her. "Make me."

She clearly didn't expect that from him. She goes down with a look of momentary panic, throwing her hands up to ward off any further blows. Letting out a frightened yelp, she curls up reflexively and breaks down into a sobbing plea. "Don't ... Don't hur--don't touch me."

Shocked to his core, he stares at her for a moment. Then he gathers his wits and kneels next to her but doesn't touch her. "I'm sorry, Red. I'm so sorry. Let me help you. That's all I want to do. Please, let me help."

"No ... no, no, no ... Not you too. Just go away," she says, shrinking away and curling up tighter. "I'm fine dammit, if everyone just leaves me alone!" She realizes she isn't making sense, but now the tears have started, she doesn't know how to stop them, or what to do next, not with him watching. It had been bad enough him seeing her like she was when they had come to take her away. Having his suspicions proven like this was almost unbearable.

He grunts and moves forward to pick her up. "Sorry, Imperatrice. You still don't get to say 'no.' I vowed to stick by you for better or for worse, and I'm keeping it."

There really isn't anything for it. She's in no condition to fight, not mentally in any case. And in spite of her not wanting anyone to see her weak, she can't deny needing the closeness he offers. She draws her arms around his neck and nestles close, avoiding looking at him by burying her face in close against his shoulder, not making any more moves to stop him.

He carries her gently to the bedroom, issuing orders to the staff that a breakfast is to be delivered to the door and then they are not to be disturbed. The Imperatrice's appointments for the morning will have to be rescheduled.

Treznor rocks gently on the bed with Nathicana in his arms, the morning's breakfast lying cold and largely forgotten on a table by the door. His internal clock tells him several hours have passed, but she's made no attempt to communicate and he's content to wait as long as it takes.

The fact that time has passed registers somewhere in the back of her mind. She ignores it, just letting herself be held. Eventually, some physical needs work past the emotional. "Acqua, per favore," she whispers quietly.

He carefully extricates himself and stumbles slowly toward the corner where the food waits. He reaches for the pitcher, then shrugs and takes the whole tray. Might as well. With feeling returning to his legs he walks more confidently back to the bed and settles the tray before lying down next to her. The water is, unfortunately, no longer cold. "Sorry," he says as he hands her a glass. "I can have them bring another."

Nathicana simply shakes her head, and accepts, her hand lingering on his before taking the glass and sipping slowly. "Grazie." She isn't sure what else to say just yet. Nothing about this other than the reassuring closeness feels right. She should have been able to maintain control. Losing it was simply unacceptable. She still wasn't quite sure where it all fell apart, but knew she didn't want it to happen again. Not like this.

Treznor watches her drink for a moment, then curls back on the bed with as much body contact as possible. He leaves the breakfast to sit in case she decides she's hungry. His stomach isn't happy about it, but he's decided to eat later. "You're welcome, Red."

She sets the water back on the tray, then nestles in close, rather needfully. "You should eat. Or something." She pointedly ignores her own growling stomach. Something normal - simple discussion on food. Anything is better than getting into the 'why' of this mess. Even if it means another stupid argument on who ought to be doing what, at least in her mind.

"How about I order a new tray?" He asks gently. "Then we can both eat." He stretches out to reach for the phone, but finds it just out of reach. "Mmph." He ponders making an effort, but decides to wait to hear what she has to say about it.

Nathicana hesitates, then nods, reaching over to get the phone for him. She didn't feel like talking to the staff right now, especially after having been carried in like this. They were good people, and she trusted them, yes. They'd been through plenty together. It didn't change the fact that the Dread Lady did not care for showing weakness in front of others. "Grapes," she asks after a moment's thought. "And yes, ice water. Please." Normalcy. Normalcy was good.

He accepts the phone and speaks quietly in the old (for him) language. "Another breakfast tray. Grapes, and another pitcher of water. Add a bucket of ice." No reason to let the current pitcher go to waste. He waits for confirmation, then nods. "Grazie." He turns the phone off and tosses it aside. "Ten minutes."

Ten minutes. Jesus. What to say in those ten minutes to keep the topics neutral? She bites her lower lip as she nestles back in, pressing close. "I ... suppose we ought to get cleaned up," she finally says, then immediately regrets it. A shared shower is not going to help anything right now.

Treznor squeezes her close. "Your schedule is clear for the day. Let's get the important business out of the way, first."

"Being clean is important," she murmurs, tensing a bit at the squeeze, though that isn't the cause for it. This time however, she avoids arguing on the schedule comment.

"You're more important." He lets go. "This isn't going to stop. You never shied away from a fight in your life. I'll be surprised to see you start now."

"Discretion being the better part, and all," she starts lamely, knowing full well it isn't going to get her anywhere. He's just as stubborn as she is. Always had been. It was one of the things that had attracted her in the first place. She hated the tension, the not feeling comfortable in her own skin. She wanted it over. She just wasn't sure how to go about it.

"There's discretion and there's cowardice. I never thought you a coward. Before." He watches her closely to see what sort of reaction he gets.

The look she gives him is telling enough. While there's a flicker of anger, she pales and draws back away from him, clearly hurt by the comment and confused as to how she ought to react. "There's the door, Dev," she says in a very quiet voice, not meeting his gaze. "If that's what you see, you can always leave so you don't have to look at it." She'd had practice in building walls. Lately they'd just lacked the proper mortar. Given time, she was certain she could remedy that.

He gentles his tone. "I don't want to leave. I want to fix it." He raises his hand quickly. "I know, I know. I can't fix it. But I can help you fix yourself. You just have to let me." He pauses and watches her some more. Then he continues. "You've seen me at my worst, my most vulnerable. You forgave me and stayed with me. Why do you think I won't give you the same respect?"

"It isn't about respect, dammit," she says, her voice starting to break. "It isn't like that at all. It's different and I can't explain, and I don't want to. I just need time, and it will all be fine." The way she says it, it's clear enough she's still trying to convince herself.

He waits for a moment. Then he shakes his head. "It is about respect. If you don't respect me enough to let me in, maybe I should leave. I almost did today, but I decided the hell with it. I was going to show you I love you if it kills me."

Treznor shrugs. "I didn't expect it to almost kill you, instead."

"It almost did kill you, you damn fool," she answers after a moment, sitting up and pulling her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them before continuing in a softer voice. It wasn't today she was thinking of. "Respect isn't what landed me there. I let you see more of me than anyone, Dev. If that isn't respect, I don't know what is. You know it's never been easy. You leave if you feel you have to." She lifts her eyes for a moment to search his face, trying to keep her own expression neutral, and failing miserably. "I'd rather you stayed."

Treznor he smiles gently and reaches out to brush her cheek with his fingertips. "There. That's a start. I want to stay, and I know you want me to stay. So it's settled, I'm staying." He pulls her in close and hugs her tight. "I'm not leaving. I am not giving up on you."

Nathicana lets out a little sob of relief, hugging back tightly, and nodding wordlessly.

Just don't make me tell you, Dev. Don't go, but please, don't make me tell. Maybe this is enough for him for now ... Goddammit, where is that food?

Once the food has been properly disposed of, Treznor strokes Nathicana's hair and sighs. "Why don't we start at the beginning?"

She winces. "What's to tell? I got sloppy, and I paid for it. Please, can't we just ... this right here is all I need. Just you, and some quiet." She presses a bit closer, not really wanting to start anywhere.

He leans over and kisses her shoulder. He lies contemplatively beside her for a while before he realises that habit and nature have taken over. He kisses along her shoulder until he reaches her neck, his hands slowly wandering toward familiar territory. She seems fine at first, rather needing the closeness, the familiar feel of his arms around her. But as his explorations become more intimate, she first tenses, then shifts herself in ways that don't take her from his arms, but make further such touches ... difficult.

Treznor blinks in surprise. Even in their most difficult moments, the two of them had always been able to fall back on physical intimacy. The past few days hadn't seen much attempt for it, but as their recovery progressed.... "Who did it to you? Reaven? Melkor? Which one?"

Nathicana freezes, not knowing quite how to respond, a dozen different answers racing through her head before she finally lets out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I fought, I got roughed up a bit. Like I told you. It's nothing," she says quietly, without emotion.

She knew what he was asking. They'd been together too long for such misunderstandings. Denial had also been a big part of that, and was still the first thing she resorted to now when faced with things she didn't want to discuss.

He faces her directly, his expression unpleasant. All the bits and pieces had fallen into place, and he was angry with himself for not recognising it sooner. "Who raped you?"

First comes the anger, at him for forcing the issue, for knowing, at herself for in her mind, having 'let' it happen, and at him for having done it. She strikes out at Treznor, though the close proximity takes most of the force from her blow as she beats against his shoulder. "He did," she finally says between clenched teeth, going into a litany of curses in her native language. "One of the Sable Fist dogs. Are you happy? Can we leave this now?"

He makes no attempt to dodge or block, rather accepts the blows and bruises that will accompany them. "I'm not him."

You think I don't know that?" She still sounds angry, though she rests her forehead in against his shoulder, her fists clenching and unclenching, til she finally rests them against his upper arms, squeezing more gently now and then.

"I don't know," he admits. He reaches out to gently pull her closer. "But I know I want to purge him from our lives."

Treznor leans forward again to brushes his lips against her face, moving slowly and deliberately without any sudden motions to startle her. Nathicana tries to stifle the shiver it elicits, not wanting it to be misread. Not really quite sure of the 'why' anymore herself. "Easier said than done, it seems," she admits reluctantly, pressing closer.

He takes this acceptance as permission and lets his hands wander again. "I know. But as I keep telling you, you're worth it. I'm here now, no one else. Just look into my eyes." His lips seek out hers and begin to explore with short, quick caresses.

She keeps her eyes on him, looking uncharacteristically doubtful. Nodding slowly, she eases into the kiss, still tense, but willing to see where this new strategy leads, at least for now.

He moves slowly, letting her body language guide him to the next step, and the next. They've become so familiar with each other that it's a second language that hardly needs their voices, but he uses his anyway to fill her ears and locks his gaze on her eyes. "I'm here," he repeats over and over again. "It's me. Just look at me." The kiss grows deeper and more intense with its hunger, hinting at the days and weeks of pent-up stress. He reins in his body's urges as he explores her new reactions.

She watches him intently, her hands tightening, or drawing back slightly now and then when it seems too much. At one point, she breaks the kiss entirely, shaking her head and dropping her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "I can't," she begins, then shakes her head. That wasn't it exactly. "It doesn't feel right." What the hell is wrong with me?

He nods gently. "We can stop if you want. But he's going to be there every time we do this until you prove to yourself that he's not here." He reaches up and lifts her chin to look at him. "I don't blame you for any of it. It is not your fault."

She frowns at that, her eyes searching his and finding no lie there. "He hurt me, Dev. He hurt me and he liked it. And I couldn't stop him."

"Yes, he did. And no, you couldn't. You can now. It begins here, when you're ready." He gazes into her eyes a moment longer before kissing her again. "I'm here, now. I'm not him, and I'll be here forever."

Nathicana kisses back slowly, then simply nods in answer as she moves one hand tentatively along his body. "Forever is a long time, Dev."

Treznor quirks a quick grin. "It is. And that's how long I signed up for. You and me, forever." He places his hand deliberately at the small of her back and shifts so she now has the superior position. His hand remains in place where his fingers begin to caress once agan. "No time like the present, I say."

"You're certifiable," she says, tensing again, then very gradually settling in, at first just resting against him, watching him thoughtfully as she lets her fingertips slowly trace along the lines of his body. "You know this, yes?"

"From the day I met you," he agrees, his body responding eagerly to her touch in spite of his control. His desire proves too much to contain fully, although he keeps his touch slow and gentle. "Entirely all my fault." He kisses her again, a little more his hunger shining through before he pulls back to watch her eyes. "All because I want you, and can't stay away."

"Lenta, per favore," she says quickly, softly as she tenses again, pausing in her caresses. "I'm sorry I'm not ... I mean I want to ... merde." She stops the rest of her rambling with another kiss, looking more determined now in spite of movements which are still unsure.

"Lenta, si. Capisco." He restrains himself with an effort, stilling his hands and staring into her eyes. "Keep looking at me. It's me, Red. It's me."

"I know, Dev. I know." She keeps her eyes locked on his now, letting her reactions speak for her, her worry about how he'll take them lessening as he continues to reassure her with both words and actions.

He moves slowly, progressing as she gives unspoken assent and gradually caressing the whole of her body as though to sponge away the memory of strange hands and harsh words. Her own hands work magic on him, stirring him up until it's clear he's fighting for control. When she hesitates at one point, he shakes his head. "That feels good. Don't stop."

She frowns slightly at the unintended command, and it takes her a moment to work past the mental block that it's tied to. It isn't him, and it isn't the same. Nathi nods, picking up where she'd left off, her pulse already racing for several reasons. It does feel good - but then again, that's part of the problem. "Mmm ... yes ... yes ... no. Wait, I mean ... I'm sorry."

She takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, relaxing again. "Ok," she says, gently guiding him with her hands. "One more try."

He takes a deep breath of his own and relaxes, smiling up at her. "Take your time. We can stop, if you want." He trails his fingers through her hair. "I don't want to do this if it doesn't feel good."

"No," she says stubbornly. "I can't keep on like this, Dev. No different than it ever is with me, no? Wanting two different things at once?" Nathi smiles wryly, leaning her head against his hand. "Stop, but don't stop. Just like that, but different. I don't know if this is what it takes, but I know I've got to try."

"Whatever you decide, I'm here with you. We'll figure it out together. Keep looking in my eyes. We'll beat this." He strokes his free hand along her back. "I'm all yours. Always have been, always will be."

She nods, shifting her hips slightly. "Still trying to figure out how I managed that," she murmurs, once again letting her hands wander, rediscovering him inch by inch, her eyes firmly fixed on his.

He opens his mouth in a wide "O" as he struggles to contain the sensations coursing through him, limbs tensing and relaxing before he finally catches his breath once more. "That's...very good..." he murmurs, punctuated with a kiss or two. "You managed by being...the only woman...I could really respect...oh gods...."

"You have...mmmm...the oddest ideas on - wait, not quite...yes, like that - respect, boy." She still hesitates now and then, though her kisses grow more eager, her caresses more confident as they go along.

He presses his mouth against hers, his need overpowering him for a moment until he regains his composure. His hands seek out familiar places once again, intending to tease and titillate. "I...couldn't imagine a life...without this....Wouldn't want it...if I could...." His pulse quickens and he again fights for control, his need reflected in the way he continues to stare into her eyes.

She tenses but doesn't draw away, both aroused and unsettled by that familiar look. "Incorrigible," is all she manages, keeping focused on what she's doing, her reactions to what he's doing, much more methodical than she's ever been before. Each time unwanted memories make her hesitate, she takes a moment to gather herself before going further.

He moves with her, teased and tormented every time she stops but reminds himself of the times when they've played such games with each other. He tricks his body into accepting it as one of those games. "Yes...oh gods..." The buildup is slow, torturous. The sweat rolls from his body and he can feel his mouth getting dry. He doesn't consider stopping, though. He lets her lead, fighting to control his reactions even as he works to arouse similar sensations in her own body. Ultimately, however, he can hold out only so long. The result is inevitable.

For her, the effort is as much mental as physical, fighting off reactions and images she knows aren't natural and shouldn't have any place here. Her expression remains serious throughout, in spite of brief expressions of pleasure. Even as it all comes together, she watches him with intense concentration, jaw clenching tightly.

Only at the end does she finally let go, sounding as much relieved as anything. Nathi curls in against him needfully, gasping for breath, finally closing her eyes.

Treznor reaches out and holds her close, likewise short of breath but not caring for the moment. "Thank you," he whispers. Maybe now we can fix this.

Nathicana just squeezes back in response, silent tears mingling with the sweat on his chest. Not sadness, not anger, just a natural release.