Triumvirate of Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider of any of the characters there within.

The doors to the white sedan popped open almost simultaneously and swung outward like the flashing fangs in the gaping maw of a jaguar. The first to spring from the backseat brandishing mini-SMG's and a lopsided grin was an underground gang member of the West Coast known simply as The Kid, and following him opposite was mercenary Larson with a shotgun in hand. The driver, a huge man in both height and build somehow squeezed his frame outside of the vehicle and studied the open area before glancing over to the last personage to exit the sedan. Black high-heels touched the dirt road with two impossibly long legs following after; a slender arm reached out for the far end of the door frame as sinister nails clicked audibly on the glass and gripped to pull out the body that followed. The woman's motions were slow and deliberate as she emerged fully from the vehicle and stood at her full height. She dwarfed the surrounding men and her corporate ensemble only distinguished her from her companions further. She was the first to shut her door and make her way over the woman they had all seen standing motionless at the end of the road. The rest quietly followed her lead.

Jacqueline Natla's pace was measured as she approached the other woman and there was silence but for the moan of the wind and…The Kid's incessant monologue.

"She blind or somethin'? Didn't she see us drive up? Deaf too? How come she ain't movin'? She stupid or what?"

"Shut up." The big man growled and The Kid instantly fell silent. Natla smiled. The Kid and Kold's relationship was intimately conjoined since the serial killer's brutal elimination of The Kid's blood brothers when he foolishly tried to highjack Natla's limousine, The Kid rarely stood up or spoke out against Kin Kade. And Kold had such a way with words.

The Tomb Raider lived up to her name; three temples raided in the span of days and each of her endeavors had been an indisputable success. Impressive. Most impressive indeed.

Natla closed the distance between herself and the tomb raider, stopping when they were an arms length apart. Her ice blue eyes flickered down to the sacred object the other woman held loosely in her hands. Her heart skipped a beat. It was completed. All three pieces had merged together once again. The whole outweighed the sum of its parts and the power was there, resonating in shocking, blissful pulses through the ground—the air. Her entire body was scintillating in time to the silent symphony of pulsating power to the very marrow of her bones. Such exquisite bliss. When her piece had been taken so unceremoniously from her, ripped violently from her neck, she did not realize how devastating an impact it would have. That piece had become such a part of her, her life-force, that she had lived this new life without her soul. Oh, to be so close to the piece that pulsated the beats of her heart was pure ecstasy.

Natla shut her eyes a moment to savor in their reunion after so many decades apart before opening them once more. Her pupils dilated and contracted in the light as she focused again on the woman opposite her.

Lara Croft's eyes were open but they stared blankly through Natla, her lips parted slightly at the moving pictures that played behind her eyes. The history that she so wanted revealed to her. The woman had entered the beyond; the space that only the Scion could enlighten.

Hiring Ms. Croft's services had been a gamble, for Natla was well aware of Richard Croft's obsession with the Scion and surely that fascination had been conferred on his daughter as well. His hopes had failed him, but where the father failed, his child succeeded in her steadfast determination to find the truth, and Natla was quietly impressed. The trials of the tombs were numerous, intricate, perilous, that even she dared not test her capability or tempt fate at another chance to seal her away. Tight spaces could be rather nerve wracking after spending eons in a cramped imprisonment. This woman before her was dangerously intelligent, well acquainted with the knowledge of the modern and ancient worlds, and she certainly had to have kept her wits about her to conquer the tombs. Her talents had served her well. Ms. Croft was an extraordinary creature of ability and intellect.

But here before her, were all three pieces from all parts of the world. She had had her doubts about Ms. Croft, but the shimmering ornament cried out for its true master, and her eyes glanced down at the Scion, complete. No menial task.

Ms. Croft had overcome the trials, solved the puzzles, and evaded the traps and guardians to the unbeaten path of ultimate success. Such accomplishment took courage, determination, purpose—it was a rare gift of willpower this girl had. One befitting a sovereign ruler…

Lara had done well.

"Whoa, she's majorly zoning."

The Kid had appeared beside Natla. The anticipation of receiving the Scion balanced her annoyance and she tolerated his blatant interruption.

"She seeks knowledge."

The young man stared at her uncomprehendingly, mouth agape. The expression grated furiously on Natla's nerves. His moronic stare was similar the Lara's, though he had no excuse for his empty gawk. What did knowledge and staring at nothing have anything to do with anything? Larson and Kold soon joined the line up on Natla's other side but with distinctly more reverence.

"Take her pistols." Natla said sharply to the men, impatient with these lower intellects and their ignorance of the priceless treasure they stood before. Larson started forward before The Kid cut him off with a wide grin and eager fingers, translucent of his intent for the open invitation she had just made towards the raider. Natla amended her statement. "Touch nothing but the weapons."

His joy shattered to crestfallen frown, slump and all.

"Do breasts count as weapons?" he muttered to himself, not daring to voice such a lewd comment with his ominous employer present. But he carefully followed Natla's strict instruction without deviation, slipping Lara's pistols from their holsters with the smooth, practiced hand of a pickpocket. He turned back to the small group with a childish grin for the ease of his triumph, to which he was treated to a taut head jerk from Larson to move off. Now. The Kid shrugged with a roll of his eyes and gave the raider a good berth, spinning her pistols carelessly in his hands.

"Kold, if you would move behind Ms. Croft?" Natla's honeyed voice implied the next move to the big man. "She may not be happy to find her friends missing when she comes to."

"With pleasure." Kold replied, of the same mind as the boss. He would know exactly how to react when the time came, and this was the proper position to do it.

Ms. Croft's claws clipped. Everyone in place.

Everything going smoothly so far.

Natla looked Lara over once more and smiled.

Her Scion returned to her at last.

Surely the woman who had managed the amazing feat of reassembling the Scion deserved a reward? Natla had toyed with the idea of letting the raider live if she succeeded, but now more treacherous thoughts were whirling in her mind, thoughts of regency, of rebuilding the Triumvirate…

Come to me, my darling.

Finally, Natla reached out, her long fingers closed over the completed Scion and she tugged up firmly, efficiently plucking the apparatus from Lara's unsuspecting hands. The haze in her brown eyes was fading, the clouds of the past clearing in her mind. A shocked breath left her lungs in a startled exhale as she blinked back to reality. But having the Scion back in her own hands had sent Natla into a deeply captivated trance from the precious icon of her heritage, which did not even shudder when Lara reached sharply for her guns. Lara in turn, was sent into another heart-wrenching shock as she discovered her empty holsters. Kold's restraining grip that followed was ironclad.

The sheer ecstasy of the power that kissed her fingertips and electric current jolted through her entire being was indescribable. Immense.

The years of her rule were flashing through her mind in quick succession.

The warm sun on her face when she was crowned alongside Tihocan, and her brother, Qualopec and the wild cheers of the people below the temple steps roared to the heavens as they took their respective thrones. The overseeing of countless celebrations and tributes and the bloody spectacles of condemned criminals. Creating and abolishing laws that the people followed without question. Temples erected in their honor, homage's paid in blood and sacrifice, holidays dedicated to their names. It had been the Golden Age of Atlantis.

And then the Scion was created.

The Scion that demanded sweat and blood and tears, that wore their fingers to the bone, pushed them beyond their physical and mental limitations; the device that had consumed the rulers lives to grant them immortality, knowledge beyond comprehension and power beyond belief.

Qualopec had designed his piece to be an endless compilation of knowledge from ages before to the future unknown.

Tihocan had designed his piece to be a tool of innovation; a vehicle that taught the disciplines and technique of creation—a design for the advancement of the people.

And Natla had designed her piece to be a driving force of energy and power.

It would not be a fabrication that in its creation, the Scion had nearly destroyed each of the rulers for the great magnitude of energy it required to be fashioned. The risks had been great, but the rewards greater.

More dangerous still had been the idea to unite the pieces. Millions had been killed upon the joining as arcs of energy detonated into being and the explosion that had resulted had first washed over the God Kings. Natla remembered that brush with power, her feeble body had been too insubstantial to truly experience it, and never had she forgotten it. The agony that followed was only just inside death, for she and her fellow kings were immortal. The God Kings swore never to unleash such destructive force on the world again and agreed to wear the separate pieces around their necks for the Scion still bore its purpose in its division; but the taste of limitless powers untold had left a thrilling zest on Natla's tongue, however fleeting. The advancements for civilization that could be made if only that energy could be properly harnessed were as boundless as that infinite power. She had already resolved to reunite the pieces once more.

The merciless attack she had launched and the betrayed expression on her trusting brother's face had never erased itself from her mind, nor his harrowing screams as his own soldiers ripped his limbs from him and severed his vocal chords in desperation to claim his piece for their queen. Nor Tihocan's severe gaze and promise of homicide when he had outmaneuvered and seized her before she could execute a similar attack on him.

Her inevitable incarceration.

Her brother's automaton body to speak for him and tote his maimed remains around…

The feel of cold stone as she kneeled in disgrace before the council, bound, and Qualopec ripping her piece from around her neck…

"It was you. You were the Queen of Atlantis."

Natla fell out of her daze. She had no use for these memories, the future was hers to command now that her Scion had been returned to her. Lara was no longer a threat to her grand design.

"Once."

Silence met her statement, but she could feel all eyes on her back. Let them question what they would, their base intellects would reject whatever truths she addressed.

"And the Scion holds its history."

One aspect, yes. This girl certainly warranted more credit than she was given. But again, Natla did not feel threatened in divulging more information than necessary, or perhaps it was more to punish the child that boasted her limited understanding of the issue at hand.

"It holds far more than that. All the knowledge of the ancients. Things none of you could even comprehend."

Silence as the insult sank in.

"What is the Seventh Age?"

Ah, then it had been just as Natla suspected. Lara had been poking around in the Queen's past. She would have to give the raider another point for unearthing that particular gem of history in the depths of the Scion. The inscriptions on the tombs must have piqued some sort of morbid curiosity to unravel the mysteries of Atlantis. The Seventh Age was not something to be spoken so lightly of. It had been Natla's drive for centuries, her long sought after goal attained for this world. The raider had no concept of it—no possibility of understanding this holiest of quests.

But…

Ms. Croft had been the proxy that Natla could not be in reuniting the pieces. Her feats were unequalled and deserved their credit at this chance. Where Tihocan and Qualopec had been short-sighted of her suggestion of a renewed earth, Lara had been willing to collect the Scion in its entirety…for whatever ends. Selfish ends. A smile was twisting the corner of Natla's lips.

One last test.

Natla turned to face the tomb raider once more, reducing the distance between them to a mere handbreadth. The move was meant to be an intimidation as a battle of wills took place. Natla's gaze was piercing as she looked into the depths of Lara's brown eyes, where strength and weakness were found.

"How far are you willing to go to find out Lara?"

The gaze that was returned was angry, but lacked a tenacious set of mind. Lara held the gaze of the Queen that stood before her for a moment, but her resolution crumbled and her eyes looked down, her head tilting away. She had no answer for Natla. What a shame. Dominance acknowledged, unsurprised by the response, Natla smirked in a mixture of victory and disappointment.

"Not far enough I'm afraid."

Natla turned her back on the other woman again, now thoroughly bored with the monotony of the entire affair.

"Kill her quickly. We have work to do."

Natla carelessly made her way back to the sedan to a cacophony of gunfire. She remained uninterested until the Scion jumped in her hands—back to the melee behind her. Curious at this reaction, she looked back just in time to see Lara dodge the blunt end of Larson's rifle as she charged into a tuck and roll and slammed into his shins. One eyebrow raised slightly as Natla witnessed the raider's creative elusion and final option to jump the cliff. With a demonstration like that it was no wonder she survived the tombs. Lara just kept impressing her. Her eyes flickered to an enraged Kid who raised his guns to finish the job when Larson sharply elbowed him from taking the shot. He raised his own rifle for a shot just as Lara dove over the edge, and missed…deliberately. That was interesting.

If Lara miraculously survived her plummet to the river below, and Natla had almost no doubt she would how evasive she was to death, then Natla would have to set an extra place at the table and she would make sure that Larson be first to greet her at the end of the road.

Should Lara defy all odds and reach the top, Natla would certainly offer the proposition that still sat so pristinely in her mind: A seat beside her, assured passage into the next age, access to the Scion's knowledge and the power that came with it. Natla would offer Lara the world.

Lara would have to prove herself capable of anything to get what she wanted. Until that time, Natla had her own grand design to execute…and Lara a ready invitation at its zenith.

Author's Note: I positively foamed at the mouth over this scene. Lara had been forced into a rather dangerous dance with the former Queen of Atlantis and I was just loving that power struggle (though Natla obviously had the upper hand, four to one.) I had a very fun time trying to guage Natla's reaction right at the open of that scene--was she thrilled to be getting the Scion back in its full glory? Absolutely. Was she pleased that her plans were going so smoothly? No question. And then along came Lara, the risque choice for the season, but the model little fetch dog that delivered. Lara who had conquered the tombs Natla did not dare entangle herself with. Determined Lara who would surely stop at nothing to get the Scion back. How similar a mind they were after the Scion. Lara had to be fit into Natla's plans. (Yes, I saw all this in that four second open of in-your-face Natla.) I had a devil of a time balancing Natla's "gimme gimme" with her respect for Lara's acheivement. I'll let my reviewers debate what sort of job I did there.

I also added a little backstory for the God Kings of Atlantis. I did a little bit of research, replayed the game with particular attention towards the Tihocan and Qualopec and Natla's banishment. Needless to say, I took some creative liberties. I could have easily expanded on the betrayal, but that wasn't supposed to be the focus of the story. It was hard not to! I love how I crammed all those "memories" of hers into those moments Lara got her bearings at suddenly being ambushed.

I also toyed with adding more simile and metaphor and whatnot into this story. I DID manage to squeeze in a few parallels, foreshadow, allusion (have fun lookin'!), but the rest of my literary prowess could use some work.

All and all, I'm pretty pleased with the end result. Tell me what you thought of the piece! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Blackfire 18