This idea has been pestering me for months and I finally had the clarity of mind to write it out. Short story in which Scarlet is utterly and absolutely in charge, set just before the Aetherblade dungeon in Twilight Arbor was released. Enjoy! :)
She bent her head back, breathing through her nose. The sheets rustled around her as she moved to lay on her back, her eyes closed. She felt callous hands running up her sides, and when the form on top of her bent down to nip at her neck, her long fingers dug into the mattress underneath them. The scent was different, so different, but when she peeked through half lidded eyes she could make out familiar colours. There were familiar textures under her fingertips and against better judgment she figured she could fool herself into enjoying this.
'Well, I never thought you'd be-', the other started, but she immediately interrupted her.
'Don't talk. You'll ruin the illusion.'
'I thought your magic changed my voice too?' The other mocked her. Faolain sighed.
'It's not the voice- it's the way you speak.'
'Whatever.' Scarlet retorted, creasing her forehead in annoyance. Their lips crashed together, and Faolain clamped her eyes shut again as she returned the kiss. Not even her own skills could deceive her, even though she wanted nothing more than to believe in the lie she was creating. Anyone who didn't know Caithe as she did would have fallen for it – the illusion was perfect, down to every last leaf, scar and spot Caithe had worn the last time they had seen each other. Yet her eyes were different, the way she laughed cruelly at Faolain's quivering form, it breathed Scarlet, even in disguise.
'You could at least put a little effort into it,' Faolain grunted against Scarlet's shoulder. She felt Scarlet chuckle before her teeth sunk into her shoulder. Had it been Caithe, this would have been more than pleasurable, but now she flinched, regretting ever thinking of this crazy idea more with every second that passed. She pushed against the younger Sylvari, trying to get some distance between them.
'Make up your mind. Are we doing this or not?' Scarlet sighed. She sat up slightly, her eyes narrowed in a way that made absolutely no sense with Caithe's face. Faolain couldn't even look at her as she nodded. She'd die before admitting that she was so conflicted about something that should have been a simple, temporary solution. Scarlet smirked.
'Very well then.'
Scarlet lowered herself and their lips met again, Faolain clinging to Scarlet as she had been clinging to feeble hopes for years, her desperation coming dangerously close to the surface, almost showing through. Scarlets fingers were rough and hard, and there was no tenderness in her touches. Her teeth scraped and her nails dragged burning welts into the Firstborn's thighs. In everything Scarlet was making it exceedingly hard to ignore the fact that she was, indeed, Scarlet.
'Fao,' Scarlet breathed. The other shuddered at the nickname, never having been spoken to so disrespectfully.
'What.' She hissed back. Another chuckle rumbled through Scarlet's chest, and then she roughly turned Faolain's chin to make her meet her gaze. An evil grin slowly crept across her features.
'Call me "dearheart".' Scarlet whispered. Faolain's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed in disgust.
'No.'
'Come on, Firstborn. Didn't you want this to be a complete illusion?'
'No. No.' Repulsed by the idea, she pushed Scarlet off of her. 'Get out, Scarlet. We're done.'
'Aww, already? I thought we were gonna have fun,' Scarlet sing-songed, but seemed all too happy to shake her illusionary features off. She stretched her shoulders lazily and yawned. 'God, what a waste of time.'
'I said get out.'
'I still get to build my factory, right?' Scarlet leaned her head back to look at Faolain, who had pulled her knees up to her chest and turned her back to her. 'I mean, I did all you asked..'
Faolain sighed. She wanted nothing more than to gauge Scarlet's eyes out and sew her mouth shut, but they had an agreement. Without looking up, she nodded. 'Go ahead.'
'Good! Well, pleasure doing business with you, Firstborn. You really aren't as intimidating as they say you are. And cheap, too.'
'Get. Out.' Faolain dropped her voice low, but she did not have the energy to make it threatening. She felt drained, mortified and more foolish than ever. If she'd ever felt like a helpless sapling, it was now, and it was not a feeling she intended to keep for long. Scarlet just laughed on her way out, waving without looking back.
.
'Did she agree?' A voice asked from the shadows. The figure was wearing a dark cape, a hood covering the face.
'She was a real pain, let me tell you that.' Scarlet smirked, one hand on her hip, the other one outstretched to accept her generous payment. 'Yes, she agreed, but she didn't really go through with it. At least, she did seem interested until I asked her to call me "dearheart".' Scarlet tentatively brought her fingers to her lips. 'I think I set something off there. Anyhow, that was apparently her limit.'
'I see,' the other answered, placing a satchel of gold coins into Scarlet's outstretched hand. 'That should be enough compensation for your trouble.'
'Oh, don't worry, I'm getting something out of this for me as well.' Scarlet waved her away, but did make sure to put the money away safely. 'But I'll take this as my consolation that she pushed me away. Honestly, I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to-'
'That's enough, Scarlet.'
'Oh, still protective of your girlfriend, are you?' Scarlet's lips curled into a grin.
'This never happened. We never met here – and no one ever gets to know. Understood?' Caithe hissed.
'Yeah, yeah. See you later, Firstborn.' Scarlet leaned back as Caithe disappeared in the shadows, throwing and catching the satchel of money. She couldn't keep a satisfied laugh in, and then just gave herself a moment to rest and enjoy the moment. Truly, everything was going exactly according to plan. All these people were just minions, pawns in her great scheme. She controlled them, like marionettes.
Hm, a marionette? That might not even be such a bad idea.
Food for thought.