Title: Eyes Like Yours
Author: Owlyn
Summary: response to Jessi's challenge. Ian wields the witchblade and Sara is his enigmatic protector, oh and did I mention that Irons is a woman? ;)
A/N: thanxs Eli for all of u're encouragement and letting me 'borrow' some of u're mythology. Oh, and if u haven't already please read my other story (Fire and Shadows) and let me know what u think.
Feedback: Of course, that and Vanilla Coke are the only things that rejuvenate my muses and cure my writer's block syndrome.
Disclaimers: I do not own Witchblade or any of its characters, just the situation they are placed in. Don't sue me, the cost/benefit ratio is sooooo not worth the trouble/effort.
Chapter 1
The bench was hard and cold beneath her legs, just like my life Sara thought pessimistically before her thoughts turned once again to her target. Her mistress had been secretive about him, the wielder, wanting to make sure her servant's judgments of his skills were unbiased. She had sensed another, hidden motive present in last night's briefing. One that her mother, even in her mind she could barely bring herself to say the word without a grimace, had tried to conceal.
"You serve only me, never forget that Sara. I raised you from a child. Without me you would have never risen above~ for you are peerless. But never forget that if it wasn't for me you would be nothing, less than nothing. Just another drone going about a sham of a life~ they all live in an illusion. Luckily, it is a profitable illusion for a woman of my caliber." Beginning her favorite part of the lecture, the one where she outlined her many accomplishments, she let her eyes study the mirror before her.
It reflected herself, a seductively imposing woman with a waist length white blonde mane, and her servant clad all in black with the only color being her shoulder length auburn hair. She was too caught up in her pretense of a monologue, and was getting to her second favorite part~ the one where she made Sara feel worthless, to notice the glazed look on her servant's bowed face. Then before she could mask it something glinted in her eyes revealing that she knew all about Sara's budding independence. It angered her that her servant's free will was starting to surface after years of suppression. The only purpose of this after dinner 'chat' was to put Sara in awe of the mystery surrounding the next wielder; that and convince her that she was unworthy of looking upon his face, let alone have an actual relationship with him.
Her head still bowed Sara began mentally picturing how her employer's smug face would look when her fist connected with it, or perhaps a foot? Once she tired of that form of distraction she focused on remembering full chapters of Dante's Inferno in hopes of figuring out which ring of Hell this encounter belonged in. Right as Irons wound up Sara decided that it was definitely only second, or maybe tops, third ring material after all it only lasted two hours compared to last weeks four hours. After about six and a half her voice tended to give out.
"Sara, did you hear me? I asked you a question, now answer!" the normally impeccably controlled voice barked, Lilith briefly allowing her growing anger get the better of her.
"You did? Sorry I did not hear you, you'll have to speak up next time.mistress."
"You insolent brat! How dare you speak to me with that tone!"
::Smack::
With painful accuracy her talon like acrylics connected with Sara's face, the momentum leaving bloody trails down her cheek. Knowing that she would get no more reaction than a soft hiss of concealed pain Lilith casually brushed flecks of blood of her Gucci suit making a mental note to get it dry cleaned.
Oh, ow that hurt like hell. Why oh why did I utter those shocking words out loud? How could I have been so stupid to break my control and strenuous conditioning. It is supposed to be there to protect me from such outbreaks of violence. At least I did not make the fatal error of calling her mother, thank God for small favors. Hopefully if I appear submissive and repent she will let me leave without a scar.
"Now back to my question. What day will it be tomorrow?" she asked while threateningly cupping the cheek she had just struck. Getting impatient she roughly twisted her head so that Sara's fearful eyes met her own triumphant ones.
"Eleven, Eleven mistress. The day the witchblade will come into Ian Nottingham's possession and begin the next chapter in the its existence."
"Don't assume too much, he may yet turn out to be nothing more that a mere Pretender. Your assignment is to follow him, I will give you permission to speak if the need arises. Leave, I want you to begin your observations tomorrow morning." She smiled coldly knowing full well that Sara would be much too nervous to speak to him, ever.
Author: Owlyn
Summary: response to Jessi's challenge. Ian wields the witchblade and Sara is his enigmatic protector, oh and did I mention that Irons is a woman? ;)
A/N: thanxs Eli for all of u're encouragement and letting me 'borrow' some of u're mythology. Oh, and if u haven't already please read my other story (Fire and Shadows) and let me know what u think.
Feedback: Of course, that and Vanilla Coke are the only things that rejuvenate my muses and cure my writer's block syndrome.
Disclaimers: I do not own Witchblade or any of its characters, just the situation they are placed in. Don't sue me, the cost/benefit ratio is sooooo not worth the trouble/effort.
Chapter 1
The bench was hard and cold beneath her legs, just like my life Sara thought pessimistically before her thoughts turned once again to her target. Her mistress had been secretive about him, the wielder, wanting to make sure her servant's judgments of his skills were unbiased. She had sensed another, hidden motive present in last night's briefing. One that her mother, even in her mind she could barely bring herself to say the word without a grimace, had tried to conceal.
"You serve only me, never forget that Sara. I raised you from a child. Without me you would have never risen above~ for you are peerless. But never forget that if it wasn't for me you would be nothing, less than nothing. Just another drone going about a sham of a life~ they all live in an illusion. Luckily, it is a profitable illusion for a woman of my caliber." Beginning her favorite part of the lecture, the one where she outlined her many accomplishments, she let her eyes study the mirror before her.
It reflected herself, a seductively imposing woman with a waist length white blonde mane, and her servant clad all in black with the only color being her shoulder length auburn hair. She was too caught up in her pretense of a monologue, and was getting to her second favorite part~ the one where she made Sara feel worthless, to notice the glazed look on her servant's bowed face. Then before she could mask it something glinted in her eyes revealing that she knew all about Sara's budding independence. It angered her that her servant's free will was starting to surface after years of suppression. The only purpose of this after dinner 'chat' was to put Sara in awe of the mystery surrounding the next wielder; that and convince her that she was unworthy of looking upon his face, let alone have an actual relationship with him.
Her head still bowed Sara began mentally picturing how her employer's smug face would look when her fist connected with it, or perhaps a foot? Once she tired of that form of distraction she focused on remembering full chapters of Dante's Inferno in hopes of figuring out which ring of Hell this encounter belonged in. Right as Irons wound up Sara decided that it was definitely only second, or maybe tops, third ring material after all it only lasted two hours compared to last weeks four hours. After about six and a half her voice tended to give out.
"Sara, did you hear me? I asked you a question, now answer!" the normally impeccably controlled voice barked, Lilith briefly allowing her growing anger get the better of her.
"You did? Sorry I did not hear you, you'll have to speak up next time.mistress."
"You insolent brat! How dare you speak to me with that tone!"
::Smack::
With painful accuracy her talon like acrylics connected with Sara's face, the momentum leaving bloody trails down her cheek. Knowing that she would get no more reaction than a soft hiss of concealed pain Lilith casually brushed flecks of blood of her Gucci suit making a mental note to get it dry cleaned.
Oh, ow that hurt like hell. Why oh why did I utter those shocking words out loud? How could I have been so stupid to break my control and strenuous conditioning. It is supposed to be there to protect me from such outbreaks of violence. At least I did not make the fatal error of calling her mother, thank God for small favors. Hopefully if I appear submissive and repent she will let me leave without a scar.
"Now back to my question. What day will it be tomorrow?" she asked while threateningly cupping the cheek she had just struck. Getting impatient she roughly twisted her head so that Sara's fearful eyes met her own triumphant ones.
"Eleven, Eleven mistress. The day the witchblade will come into Ian Nottingham's possession and begin the next chapter in the its existence."
"Don't assume too much, he may yet turn out to be nothing more that a mere Pretender. Your assignment is to follow him, I will give you permission to speak if the need arises. Leave, I want you to begin your observations tomorrow morning." She smiled coldly knowing full well that Sara would be much too nervous to speak to him, ever.