Chapter Twenty-Nine

Discipline

At midnight, someone knocked on her bedroom door. Lena huffed, as if the disturbance interrupted something very important. It hadn't, but she liked to be left alone.

She opened the door.

Aro stood with his hands behind his back, still wearing his black suit. Lena wasn't sure what she expected. Him to be more like the Cullens maybe, considering his apparent interest in them. They all wore pyjama sets after ten o'clock.

"May I come in?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes, and glanced down the hall. Nobody was around. Downstairs, there was a party which had called away the castle's inhabitants - all but her. Chatter and laughter and outdated classical pieces drifted up to her floor.

It was the perfect opportunity, wasn't it?

Perhaps he thought so, too.

"No."

Her answer agitated him. His lips pursed, just a fraction. "Then perhaps we could take a turn about the gardens," he said. "I understand you enjoyed your time outside with Marcus."

Seeing no other option, and uncomfortable with the way his face twisted, Lena smiled. She stepped out into the hall, and closed her door.

The courtyard was different at night, as if the souls of the executed roamed the grounds in the dark. The air was still, the building blocking off any wind, but something about it was uncomfortable. She could see the entire area clearly and knew nobody else was present, but still she felt unsettled.

From here, the noises from the throne room were much louder. She could pick through the sounds, isolate each of them: the rolling tones of Italian, raucous laughter, the clink of glasses. There were humans present - perhaps two dozen or so, yet to be touched. Violin strings were pulled as a song older than Lena herself called out into the dark.

The music cut abruptly. Lena was no musician, but she caught the sour notes. A series of thuds, something wooden smacking against stone, followed by glasses shattering. Screams, though they were quickly silenced. The sweet smell of blood trickled into the courtyard.

Lena tensed, but did not chase after it. She fed just hours before on a wandering tourist.

"You were welcome to join the celebration," Aro said. "Marvellous violinists with such pretty necks. I think you would have liked it."

She ignored him. She wanted to talk about something else, wanted to know why he kept her, why he seemed displeased that she was with Marcus. Did they not share the throne? Was their power not distributed amongst them equally? She thought he would have seen it as a sign of loyalty, of submission.

Had Marcus shared his anxieties with Aro, then?

But surely Aro already knew. He touched her hand, saw deeper into her mind than she felt comfortable imagining. He thought she could be swayed then, or controlled. He was trying to play a much more complicated game than Lena, because his goal couldn't have been as straight-forward as murder. He would have killed her the first chance he had, and there had been many more since.

Lena felt it creep over her. Something unsettling that made her stomach coil. Alistair explained it before as a sense for danger, and one she should not ignore. The most basic instinct of survival, emphasised in this state of being. For her to fear something meant there was a very genuine threat.

She looked at Aro's mousey face. He didn't look particularly frightening, but then he hadn't before he killed her either.

"Lena," he said suddenly. He stopped walking and faced her, much like Marcus had, only his gaze was not quite as disinterested. "I hope you know the only reason you still stand is because I allow it."

"Yes, Aro."

"Master Aro," he corrected.

She hesitated. "Yes, Master Aro," she said quietly.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure you fully grasp the magnitude of my kindness. I executed one of my favourites, an addition to my guard I wanted for years. I have sacrificed immeasurably for you."

Lena felt the same way. She gave up her life, her family, everything. All of it gone within the single second it took for him to sink his teeth in her neck.

She did not say this. She didn't say anything.

"Perhaps you should also learn sacrifice."

He reached for her, too quickly for Lena to decide if she should dodge or stay. He grabbed her left hand, held it tightly in his own. He turned it over so her palm faced towards the velvety black sky. With the tip of his finger, he slowly traced circles over her skin.

"You amaze me, Lena," he said. "You have so much promise, just as I hoped you would."

She pressed her lips together.

He dragged the tip of his finger down her hand, along her fingers. His fingernail scratched at the surface of her skin, sharp as glass and yet his touch not forceful enough to tear her open.

"But you lack discipline. Carlisle failed to teach you that."

His hand wrapped around her fingers. Her knuckles pressed against each other in his grip, not painfully but in a way she knew her bones should be arranged.

"I will not fail you as he did," he said.

He squeezed. Hard.

Lena hissed and bared her teeth.

"Do not disrespect me with such displays," Aro said. "I don't tolerate impudence, even amongst my favourites."

He waited for her to stop, to close her mouth and stand straight. Only then did he continue, adding more and more pressure until fissures ran over her hand and up her arm.

Her skin cracked like pottery.

Lena clenched her teeth. She longed to pull away, but somehow knew that her entire hand would tear from her body if she did.

Aro bent her fingers back and twisted. Her four digits ripped from her hand with ease. Lena growled, snarled. She wanted to bite him, wanted to hurt him back a hundred times worse.

Her fingers peeked out from Aro's hand like worms, limp in his grasp. She saw the bone, the muscles, the vessels in the cross-section. Watched, caught between disbelief and horror, as the open wounds on her hands stitched themselves together, leaving behind four nubs where her fingers once attached.

She touched them gingerly. All smooth and firm like a scar.

She hissed at Aro. Rushed forwards and reached out with her good hand, meaning to snatch the appendages back, but he sidestepped her.

"Did you learn nothing?" he asked. "Perhaps I should take a limb."

Lena froze. Glared at him.

"Don't look so distraught. I'll give them back," he said. "One at a time, whenever you prove yourself to me. You might be waiting a while though, seeing as this is how you carry yourself. I am hardly impressed, Lena."

He took her life, her family, everything, and now he had taken her fingers. Was dangling them in front of her, a display of power. She longed to kill him, longed to launch herself at him and tear him to pieces, but she knew it would not work. She couldn't kill him with one hand. Hundreds of vampires would shuttle outside if he called for them. They hung upon his every word.

"From now on, you answer only to me," he said. "In future, I do not expect to see you fraternising with Marcus, or Caius for that matter. You are mine, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Aro." She spoke no louder than a whisper, not trusting herself not to scream or cry. She couldn't look at him. Kept her eyes on the ground beneath her, tried not to stare at her ruined hand.

"It seems you've already improved." He offered her his free hand, as if he could convince her now he was nothing but a perfect gentleman. "Come. I'll walk you back to your room."

that was kinda mean aro