Raem
17-02-2004, 19:20
"We will stand for your rule no longer, Incubus. You will submit to the will of the Kabals!" Cheris stands boldly close to the throne, her posture aggressive. Her jaw is set, the muscles near the base of her skull tensing with the rage that smoulders in her eyes.
Rath's gaze slips down from her wonderfully effeminete jawline to her long, slender throat. "I am the will of the Kabals, or have you forgotten the knives which prick at your lovely throat?"
"It is you who forgets, who has abandoned our ways to lick at the heels of the dark god and his mon-keigh hounds. You would prostrate Commorragh before Arda, sell us as whores to the filthy men and krork."
"You would be wise to consider your words before speaking them --"
"What have I to regret? You cannot move against me." There, yes, there it is. The way she shifts her weight, her hips, the way her hand lies clenched in indignant anger against her thigh. He must be careful.
"The Kabals cannot defy me. I am Archon here, I rule Commorragh. However, I will overlook your sedition. The Kabals may resume striking when and where they wish, so long as you remember in whose hands the knife rests."
"Your time will come, Incubus."
"I'm sure you can hardly wait. Now, leave."
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Steam fills the air inside a darkened room, lit only by dim red light filtering through slitted windows in one wall. The light seems to pool in the waist-deep water covering the floor; red reflections flicker and swirl over the walls.
A ripple disturbs the tranquility and shatters the chaotic patterns of light on the walls. Nascia's little hand skims the water, her fingertips trailing over the surface as she wades out towards Rath.
She simply leans against him, her head on his chest and his heartbeat in her ears. Sounds of life in the Dark City - gunfire, screams and wailing - drift up through the open slits. Despite the warmth of the water and the steam in the air, Nascia's skin prickles, sending shivers through her limbs.
"They will not forget this victory, father. Cheris will be more difficult in the future, less willing to accept what she is given."
Rath does not respond, content to remain silent through the long hours of what passes for night in the Dark City of Commorragh.
Rath's gaze slips down from her wonderfully effeminete jawline to her long, slender throat. "I am the will of the Kabals, or have you forgotten the knives which prick at your lovely throat?"
"It is you who forgets, who has abandoned our ways to lick at the heels of the dark god and his mon-keigh hounds. You would prostrate Commorragh before Arda, sell us as whores to the filthy men and krork."
"You would be wise to consider your words before speaking them --"
"What have I to regret? You cannot move against me." There, yes, there it is. The way she shifts her weight, her hips, the way her hand lies clenched in indignant anger against her thigh. He must be careful.
"The Kabals cannot defy me. I am Archon here, I rule Commorragh. However, I will overlook your sedition. The Kabals may resume striking when and where they wish, so long as you remember in whose hands the knife rests."
"Your time will come, Incubus."
"I'm sure you can hardly wait. Now, leave."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Steam fills the air inside a darkened room, lit only by dim red light filtering through slitted windows in one wall. The light seems to pool in the waist-deep water covering the floor; red reflections flicker and swirl over the walls.
A ripple disturbs the tranquility and shatters the chaotic patterns of light on the walls. Nascia's little hand skims the water, her fingertips trailing over the surface as she wades out towards Rath.
She simply leans against him, her head on his chest and his heartbeat in her ears. Sounds of life in the Dark City - gunfire, screams and wailing - drift up through the open slits. Despite the warmth of the water and the steam in the air, Nascia's skin prickles, sending shivers through her limbs.
"They will not forget this victory, father. Cheris will be more difficult in the future, less willing to accept what she is given."
Rath does not respond, content to remain silent through the long hours of what passes for night in the Dark City of Commorragh.