More Alanna/Roger goodness yet wrongness. To quote Emmy (Emmegan), who betaed this, Roger doesn't just deserve a fanclub, he deserves a fancult. The aforementioned qualities of manipulation, hawtness, shmexyness, and badassness are just too stupendous to warrant simply a club.
She also gets the dedication for this, too. Read her stuff. Especially the Raoul/Buri things because they are love.
Disclaimer: I do not own this. Tamora Pierce does. I'm just taking and manipulating her chracters because Roger is a hawt shmexy manipulating badass who I need to start a shrine for.
Ahem. The story.
How in the name of Mithros had she ended up blindfolded and tied to the bed? Forcibly, of course. But she was still tied. Strong as she was, Roger was a male and quite a bit larger. And he had his Gift.
Damn.
And the ropes hurt, too.
"Interesting situation you've gotten yourself into, Alanna." He was looming over her, looking very satisfied with himself.
"Don't you mean, interesting situation that you've gotten me into?"
"Do you want me to gag you?" Roger asked, looking vaguely interested in the idea. Alanna decided that she would probably never understand him. She raised her eyebrows, "I think you know how I would feel about that, and not that it would stop you."
"You're right, it wouldn't." He smirked down at her. "But as you're being good (for you) right now, pet…"
Alanna had a quick temper, he knew that, and he was trying to provoke her. It worked. She was hissing insults at him until he gagged her with a strip of fabric. Roger watched her face slowly turn redder and redder.
"For once," he said, "there's no noise in here." She made a muffled comment; it was indecipherable to his ears.
"Well, wasn't that illuminating?" he asked sardonically. Sometimes Roger got tired of this verbal battle with her, one sided as it was then. He had gotten information earlier about his cousin's activities, and like she had in the past, she had stayed for longer. He removed the gag, for now.
He sat down on the bed that she was tied too naked. His eyes roved over her body and Alanna blushed. She blushed harder when his hand crept towards her breast and started fondling it.
"This is pointless, really," she protested to him ineffectually.
He raised his eyebrows, "that's not what your body seems to think."
How red could a person turn, anyways?
"And it's not like you haven't done this before, Alanna."
"Well, not using ropes I haven't" she retorted back. Roger nodded, "true."
His hand finished with her chest and slid down her stomach, getting lower. His shirt had been off for a while, now.
Roger took pleasure in noticing that she squeaked.
He caressed her lower abdomen and then stopped. Alanna took offense at this. "What did you do that for?" she asked.
Because in the end, it was all about control for him. Control over her activities, her friends, the way her body reacted. When she got pleasure, if she did at all, and always after he had had his.
That night when she was tied to the bed and he was on top of her, it was even more about the control. He held the whip, if you will.
Roger liked that feeling of control. He liked deciding when to let the fiery redhead underneath his writhe and moan. Mostly, he liked knowing that it was him who did all this to her… delicious torture; you could call it at the risk of sounding romanticizing.
Control. That was what he craved.
He wondered if Alanna would be at all adverse to the introduction of a whip.
Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing ;)