A Gift

[Darth Empyrean]

As Irajah spoke her sanctimonious message, The Slave listed to each glistening word. What she spoke of was moral, it made sense for regular people, and how cruel to think some would ever be subject to a life of servitude; but at the end of the day, he wasn’t a normal person.

He was broken to begin with.

Still, enjoyed hearing her speak, the faint way she wanted him to choose a name for himself, even offering to simply let him sleep if he so wished. The idea of the lake, or even exploring the grounds seemed somewhat interesting, if only for a while; but after all she had said and done he could only say one thing -

He came close to her, just enough to let the heat of his breath leave goosebumps on the skin of her cheek;

“If I’m to choose, call me yours.”

A grin broke wide on his lips, a hand delicately dragging his short nails along her other cheek before he sat back. He was pleased with himself, if nothing else; and although he was hardly an appropriate person for well mannered events, he certainly knew how to hold himself in private. Even so, the hedonist that he was, he watched her expectantly, waiting for something in her eyes.

As a last move of patience while he waited for her response, he brought the newly filled glass of wine to his lips and held it there, drinking it slow with a lifted brow; a face of a cocky man who expected to get yelled at.


│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in, his words hot against her cheek. The prick of nails against the side of her face and she closed her eyes for a heartbeat. And then, just as quickly it was gone.

Hazel eyes opened, and she blinked for a moment before her face flushed entirely scarlet.

FROWN.

She pointed a finger at him (and if her hand was shaking, it could charitably be contributed to the wine).

"ThatisNOTwhatImeant!"

There was a particularly inelegant squeak at the end of that, and she took a large gulp of the wine.

"You. In no fashion. Belong to me. Got it? I'm serious!"

It was difficult to take her seriously in this situation, if we were all being honest.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave’s movements were straight from a ballet, with smooth and subtle actions that began where he sat, and ended with Irajah in his arms. His hand had grabbed ahold of hers, while the other found a vagrant place at her lower back. A smile gave the foreboding aura of his actions, how domineering they seemed; yet how carefully gentle they were in practice.

His words slipped through pale rose lips like the sweet honeysuckle that bloomed in the early morning hours of a dew drop ridden sunrise;

“Oh, but I do.”

Cheek met cheek as he leaned closer to her, the lilac scent of his body filling her nostrils as alabaster hair threatened to hide her vision. He let his breath roll over her once more, caressing her skin as it rolled past her ear, trailed closely by his familiar tone;

“Do you like to dance, Irajah?”

And the air grew cold as they stood quiet, the soft echoes of their heartbeats permeating the waves of heat that rolled off The Slave’s body into hers. The room grew dark with tension, left waiting for the waif’s would be response.

│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

She was in his arms in the span of a breath- not that she could draw her own in that moment as he both pulled her in and leaned in himself. She was entirely certain he must be able to hear the hammering of her heart in her chest. As she breathed him in, she closed her eyes again. She didn't move into his embrace, but neither did she pull away. She simply sat, frozen in that moment, his words heavy against her ear.

"I- you're not-"

But it was difficult to keep arguing with him. She had given him every opportunity to not play the role Imperia had set for him. And yet he wanted to. At least, that was how he acted. But there was still one thing missing.

And dancing was not it.

Never the less, she nodded, voice caught in her throat for the moment. He'd drawn her up off of the couch and she wondered just exactly when the high collar of her tunic had gotten so blasted constricting.

It took a moment, but finally she found words.

"There's music, on the console on the desk," she murmured softly.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

If nothing else, The Slave was nearly impossible to read. When one found he was going down one path, and comfort came to one’s mind; he would simply change. Irajah had become its victim a number of times, and in reality there was no reason for him to do it that made any sense outside his own psyche. In truth, he didn’t know either; but the reason for such was something far darker and deeper than most care to search.

A light hum filled his throat as he slid away from her, letting his fingers doddle across her skin before striding across the elegant floor of the library to the desk in question. With a passive motion of his hand, he ignited the light of the console and took a seat of his own. A hand on the holographic interface idly meandered through files on files before he looked back to her;

“How often do people come to visit you, Irajah?”

He was playing his games; whatever those games were. From aggressive behavior, to sultry slides and passive comments of self hatred. Was he enjoying himself? Of course he was, but there was never a moment he could afford to not enjoy himself.

There was only a moment his gaze moved back to the computer, selecting one of the many files on the console and letting the speakers that surrounded the library spring to life. A slow song, a carefully crafted classical that called to the core of their very soul; a symphony of sultry signals that ignited second thoughts in your psyche. At least, he thought so.

Picking himself up, he moved back to grab his wine glass and stand near her, offering her a hand for a slow two step waltz around the library; a simple matter of exploration of each other and their physicality, but also the way they vibed with each other. A connection was just as important as anything else.

│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah took that moment of distance to reorder her thoughts, to ground and try, for a moment, to figure out the ridiculous why of what was going on here.

Trust Imperia to make her day more complicated. As if everything in her life weren't complicated enough.

She also took that opportunity to drain her wine glass, and wonder, briefly, if she should send for more.

Setting her own glass down on the side table, she accepted his hand as the music wound around them both. It was one of her favorite pieces, but usually, she listened to it in solitude. Here, drawn again into his arms, it took on layers that she hadn't previously experienced, and would change the nuance of the piece irrevocably.

"Not as often as I would like," she admitted as he led off the steps.

Irajah was a fine dancer, but mostly due to two factors - her enjoyment of the experience and that she followed each step with the barest touch- when someone competent led, there was no delay in her response.

"My research keeps me busy. And Blackwater is.... out of the way."

It was also far too large for one person. In truth, she spent more time on Maena, if for no other reason than it wasn't so empty.

"On the rare occasion I do have a visitor," she continued, a smile ghosting across her lips for a heartbeat, "Usually it's business related."

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Every footfall was light, every action smooth, The Slave performed the small duet of a dance in a synchronized harmony that could rival the ballrooms of Alderaan’s royalty. All the while, he hummed with the music, taking careless glances around the room as Irajah spoke. Her voice was soft on the ears, the kind a gentle woman often let their tone fall to when they spoke of something personal to themselves; with a faint blush and a shyness that couldn’t help but pervade each word she spoke.

The Slave loved it, just as he loved every mortal being. Just as he hated every mortal being.

Oh, but the music was grand. With each high came a resounding follow up that shook him to his core, a beautiful crescendoing rainbow of synthetic notes that lay nothing to the imagination but what the creator had in mind. He had heard the song a few times prior, but with every retelling the story that it was only grew more vivid with each listen.

“If you’d like, I could come visit you more. I have the freedom to do what I please in that regard, and I certainly think I could-”

Those golden orbs of predacious passion moved from the surrounding environment, back to the young woman that he held in his arms.

“- Find some enjoyment here.”

“Perhaps tea as the sun peaked just barely over the mountains, still somber from its midnight slumber. Or long hours into the night speaking of the magic that is bioengineering, even what food we enjoy in the garden at all the wrong hours.”

He couldn’t help but offer a subtle laugh, a slight grin broke his lips free from each other once more as each curled upwards in amusement.

“Everyone needs company, Irajah.”, he said; almost like he meant to strike a deal for her soul, a voracious tone that spoke volumes more than what he said.

│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

There was no mistaking the tone of his voice. Or the look in his eyes. But especially not the particular choices of scenarios he put before her as potential past times. While it certainly wasn't subtle, he also never came right out and said it. He danced around his true invitation as surely as they moved around the library. The music pulled and buoyed, tense and soft at once, and it took Irajah a moment to remember to simply breath. Somewhere along the line, she'd forgotten.

"You keep asking what I would like," she murmured softly. "What you are.... permitted.... in your current situation. But to be entirely blunt-"

She paused, looking up at him, brow furrowing slightly.

"I have no interest in the company of someone who is there solely because they think it will please me. I understand, no, perhaps not, but I accept the situation between you and Imperia."

She thought of Samson. Of his dogged devotion. How everything he wanted, everything he needed, was to please her. And just how much she hated it.

"So if the only reason you would be here is for that..... I don't need the companionship of someone who can simply 'find enjoyment.' It seems a poor substitute in truth, for an eager partner."

The tone was clear. She wanted someone to be there because they wished to be. To her, at least, that mattered.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Perhaps you mistake my intentions -”

His tone was soft as he leaned closer to her; at the full rotation of the room he pulled her close before sitting down on the couch they first took their place on. One hand found its place on her knee, while the other rested on her hip; his entire position cocked just slightly to orientate himself towards her.

“- I am eager to be here. Be it as a friend, or something more. You interest me, Irajah, no matter what you think.”

He knew his intentions were confusing, and in truth he didn’t understand them himself. They simply existed, from each sudden muse he took at any given moment; each their own journey in themselves. Today he sought another, something careless and interesting outside what Imperia wished of him.

“Consider this as myself, not Imperia and her wishes.”

And with that, he leaned in; but instead of what most would assume a conventional kiss, he left his lips on her cheek, his hands moving to cradle her against his shoulder. Fingers found their way in her hair as he closed his eyes, finding peace in the moment between them; an eternity passing as he waited for her response.

│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

It was an eternity, because at first, Irajah simply had no words. Every time she thought, for a moment, she had figured him out, he changed directions. His words, the surprising tenderness of the gesture, caught her off guard. She found herself curled against his chest- simply being held.

The last time that had happened, had been on Panatha. In the arms of the man who had tried to take everything from her for his own ends. He had lied to her, betrayed her, and whispered honeyed words into her ear. But in that situation, he'd had everything to gain.

Here, in this moment, she could see no angle. And she hated that it was what she looked for now. He had said exactly what she wanted him to, and still she dissected it. Who then, was the difficult one? Not [member="The Slave"].

Deliberately, consciously, she slowly let go of it. Not the embrace, but of what it reminded her of. It wasn't possible to do that completely. That scar ran too deep. But, for a moment here, she relaxed in his arms, her forehead dropping against his shoulder.

Everyone needs company, Irajah, he had murmured.

He had not been wrong. And there was very little that Irajah hated more than feeling alone. If anything, that had only escalated over the last year. Especially as her understanding of Gideon and what it was doing to her, had clarified.

"Then you can stay, as long as you want," she finally murmured softly against his shoulder. "I would like that."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

A comforting silence filled the void between them before the soothing tunes of the music came back to each of their ears. It matched the tone set by their words, something subtle and light, yet equally potent with emotion. Rolling with the heart, it became the sensation the pulse of their blood followed; only ceasing when he finally spoke.

“So…”

His words were quiet, his body only shifting slightly as she was held in his warm embrace. Silver ash hair fell from his face to his cheeks, mixing with her far darker hair carefully. He tightened his grip on her, keeping her close so each word vibrated through his chest and into her own;

“... Still want to use Imperia’s gift?”

The spirit of their conversation shifted as he let out a soft laugh, a hand still held within her hair and crading her head; while the other moved grab for his wine. Every movement he made was careful, each in mind to not disturbing where she sat.

│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

She'd closed her eyes, just sitting in that moment. It didn't mean anything, and she knew it, but that was far more comforting that if it had.

It wasn't something she was always very good at, sitting quietly with nothing occupying her mind. It couldn't last, of course, but just for a moment at least-

His hand tightened in her hair and her breath caught in her throat. His words, that soft laugh. The gentle firmness of his embrace. She was frozen there for a heartbeat, then another while he sipped the last of his wine. Finally, she drew in one, long breath, her cheek still against his shoulder.

"Not on you."

Her voice was small, quiet. She didn't move, his hand on the back of her head, her own hands, just finger tips, lightly against his chest.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

And the voracious sensuality he with held for only a few moments came back in full swing, the grip in her tightening and pulling her head back before aureate eyes found themselves drawn to her exposed neck. The hand that held the wine glass took its place on her hip, as his teeth took care to gracefully pull across her neck’s sensitive skin. It seemed he wasn’t the kind to play around.

His words came soft as his lips moved across her neck, inciting the slightest of goosebumps wherever their cadaverous nature found presence.

“Tell me about where your passions, Irajah.”

It was an odd question, considering what his body language gave; but it was one spoken in earnest. If not in a slightly amorous tone, one that moved slowly to her ear and left something to ponder, both in his intentions and in his question.

All the while, he continued to move across her neck; the ever playing symphony of classical melody played as background to their actions. The Slave readjusted them as they spoke, making the position far more comfortable for the two in their sitting position, but something lay amiss. Just outside the room, one of the many servants came to check on them.

As all servants did, he opened it only meagerly at first, carefully enough to not make a sound and disturb a would be important conversation, all before he witnessed what was happening. Irajah nearly mounting The Slave’s lap, his face buried in the isthmus of her neck. He swallowed hard, and brought the door closed in the same manner as he had before; only to quickly carry himself back to the servants quarters in a tizzy.

He wasn’t sure, but he thinks The Slave made eye contact with him; the same predatory gaze he gave Irajah given to the random servant, as though he wanted him to see. Wanted him to know what he was doing.

│ [member="Irajah Ven"] │

 

[Kuzo]

As his teeth found that sliver of bare skin, between chin and the high neck of her tunic, only available to him by the firm but gentle tug on her hair, her own finger tips tensed, digging slightly against his chest. Her head tilted back as his hands pulled her in. Pulse ran frantic beneath his mouth and she uttered a small sound before finding the words she needed to answer [member="The Slave"].

"It's..... a long list."

She could feel him smile against the curve of her neck, and she shivered as his words washed over her.

"We have all the time in the world."

****

Young Rilan scurried through the quiet manor, eyes wide and more than a little upset. Well. Upset might be the wrong word, but he needed to tell someone what-

A hand reached out of a darkened alcove, snatching him by the ear and pulling him up painfully short.

"Surely, you didn't go to the library, when I explicitly told the staff to remain on the far end of the manor?"

Rilan paled beneath Terin's stony gaze.

"I just thought I would see if the Baroness needed-"

Fingers tightened painfully on his ear and Rilan yelped.

"Is she still there? With the courier from Imperia?"
​The boy nodded, blinked back tears of pain. He had never seen the look that was lurking behind Terin's pale blue eyes before, and it frightened him.

"Interesting. Not unexpected, but, interesting," he murmured, gaze growing distant before focusing back in on Rilan. "You will tell no one. There will already be gossip, but I am not concerned with that. The lady's business is her own, not yours to share as currency with the rest of the staff. Am I clear?"

Rilan nodded again, clearly miserable.

"Good."

Terin let the young man go, shooing him off before turning back to gaze thoughtfully down the corridor toward the door of the library.

"Good."


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