Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
by SMYGO4EVA
When the night came, it was just the two of them. For them both, it was a more preferable arrangement, with their secluded meetings under the cloak of darkness.
There was nothing much to say.
"We never really had a choice in the matter, did we?" Rider spoke finally, her words no longer meant to hide secrets. Her lilting voice echoed across the chasm of the church altar. "You have your Master, and I have mine."
Most of their lives were in the past tense now, at least until the Holy Grail War reared its ugly head. Lancer stood there, arms crossed, his spear at his side. He waited for Rider to continue. He wasn't looking at her, and nor was she. At least they were on speaking terms.
"Yes. As much as we'd like to, we cannot change the past," Lancer mused, shifting where he stood, so his eyes set upon her. "Maybe this is some form of divine punishment, don't you think?"
"Don't say anything about divine punishment," Rider replied, unable to quell her shaking voice. The resonance of angry touches and hatred-spewed lashes from her past thrummed against her.
She never wanted to feel that way again; she was enough of a monster to shoulder such labels. Rider glared angrily at Lancer, not enough to kill him, but just enough to see his unchanged expression.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, Lancer."
"I don't, don't I?" He answered back, anger bubbling in his voice. From what it looks like, you're the one who doesn't remember why we're here, why we're even in neutral ground. Hell, maybe you're not the warrior I thought you were, Medusa."
Her body seized upon hearing her true name. Rider had to stop herself from tearing him to shreds with her cursed eyes then and there. "You don't understand, Lancer. Not once, no one ever has!"
Her voice echoed through the altar, surprising even her. She hadn't raised her voice in a long time, but there was no stopping what she was to be wrought of.
Lance didn't even flinch, but he only gripped his spear tightly. He wasn't going to leave her in this state, not when there was much that they had in common.
Eyes narrowed, Lancer took a deep breath, and walked a few steps toward her, carefully. His mouth was set in a grim line. "All right then. Make me." The warrior responded coolly, an unmistakable edge in his voice.
"Make me understand. Since we've spent some time, it's only fair that I get a taste of what you have gone through, in your past, what cannot be changed."
"Much obliged, Lancer."
Without a second thought, Rider shoved Lancer against the cold floor, the entire altar shuddering from the impact. Knocking the wind out of him, Lancer could only grunt, stunned, the world spinning as she became his only line of sight. His spear fell out his hand, tossed to the side as if it was nothing, rolling next to the first pew in front of them.
She straddled him as he attempted to push her off him, but she then grabbed hold of his wrists, pinning them to the ground. Rider was like a woman possessed, but when she lost the taste for blood, there was the only other form of release she wanted. She felt his rough hands grab her wrists, only succeeding in holding her steady, squirming in his grip, but she had the upper hand.
Rider didn't even bring out her blade nor her chains. She didn't need them, not for this. She then pressed her lips together, tears brimming in her eyes.
"You'll have an idea of what divine punishment really is like soon enough, Lancer," she whispered, and Lancer then felt an ache settle in his chest.
He craned his neck to get a better look at her, but Rider leaned in and kissed him hard, harder and rougher than she ever kissed anyone. He kissed back expertly; he was used to such roughness, in and off the battlefield.
Quickly as it came, she bit hard into his lips, tasting his blood, and she pulled away from the kiss, which signaled him to let go of her arms, only to have her drop his wrists to the floor. Even with that relief, she still had him underneath her, her hands on his chest.
She wasn't ready to let him go just yet.
"You're a warrior, the great Cu Chulainn, yet do you even know what it is like to truly bear someone else's lashes?" Rider asked, her voice rough and breathy as she ground into Lancer's pelvis, her hair falling into his face. "To remember what you had been punished for, when you had done nothing wrong?"
Amidst the all-too familiar warmth and lust awakening in him, Lancer struggled to speak, when only a deep groan or a quick grunt would escape from his lips. He saw something in her there, something cold—an icy desperation in her very being. She had fought and endured so much. She had gone too long without being loved, without someone looking out for her, giving her what she needed.
He thought that he was enoughfor her, but the past was quick to haunt her. She thought he didn't understand, but he knew. He knew that pain all too well. He had no answer except tilting his head back and moaning, like he had been given a relief he was waiting for.
She's remembering so much now, he scolded himself, as Rider writhed above him. He reached up, cupping her breasts in his hands. So are you. There is no room for hypocrisy now.
"Believe me, I know what it's like, to fight and not get anything in return," he said, his voice firm as they ground their pelvises together, the sweet friction building between layers of clothing. "To not see the light of day ever again, until we were summoned into this God-forsaken war."
Rider ceased her movements for a mere moment, but only so that she could grasp his hand off her breast. Holding it gently, she lowered his hand to between her legs. He grazed her lower regions, and she shuddered sweetly. She was already wet, her form shaking, looking like everything Lancer had ever craved.
Lancer held on to Rider, keeping her on top of him, his other hand keeping her steady. Whatever violent thoughts had consumed her, they had quelled. He squeezed their joined hands and pressed against her, breathing ragged as he pulled his hand away from under her skirt.
But Rider kept her eyes shut, forehead pressed against his, until she felt his body shift, accommodating the feel and warmth she gave him. Hands still entwined, Lancer gently pulled her towards him, his arms wrapped around her in an embrace.
His hand brushed along her skin softly, feeling how her form melted into him as he touched her. This was somehow far more intimate than anything else he had done with her in their many times together.
"I understand, and to think that you didn't was foolish of me." He said, no wavering or uncertainty in his voice, inevitable silence hanging in the air.
She hadn't felt this close to anyone in the longest time, and yet she let herself wrap her arms around him, returning his unspoken truce. She tightened her hold, and he didn't press the subject. There were so many things left unsaid, so many things she wished she could say.
For now, this was enough for her, and for him too.