When Jian awakes, she finds herself on the bed in her room. She still wears the outfit she was in last night, but someone has wrapped her in blankets and left a glass of water on the table next to the bed. Sitting up, she takes it and sips slowly as she orients herself. The straps and metal plates of the clothing have dug into her body and she sets about trying to figure out how to get the thing off.

By the time she's extricated herself and finished the water, the previous day has come back to her. The archon must have had someone bring her back here. They'd talked in his garden on the roof, where he'd brought her from his office after -

After she had done her duty as his slave.

Jian's knees are suddenly weak. She slides to the floor and sits, back against the bed and knees pulled up to her chest. She may no longer have cuffs holding her in this position, but she's still as trapped as she was on the slavers' ship. Her stomach cramps. Perhaps she should just kill herself now. It would be difficult; she'd have to find some way to do it that drukhari medical technology wouldn't be able to save her. Maybe if she can find a way to slash her wrists after Lynx had left for the night, so her spirit has a full night to leave her body?

But there would be no escape in death. Without a waystone, it would only deliver her into the hands of She Who Thirsts. She buries her head in her knees. It wasn't that bad, she tells herself. There was no violence, no pain. Living here would be far preferable to death. Her master even seems to care for her on some level. He hadn't needed to spend that long rubbing her feet, to let her eat his food or give her such a nice place to sleep. Lynx is right. She should take what she can get.

As her thoughts had summoned her, Jian hears a noise at the door and hurries to adjust her posture as the Lhamean enters. "Good morning," she says.

"Good morning, Vixen," Lynx replies pleasantly. "Ready for your bath?"

Jian nods and hurries over to help her get the various soaps and tonics in order. She's grateful that Lynx seems to be mainly focused on efficiency this morning. Jian isn't in the mood for conversation. Less than an hour later, she's been washed and dried, dressed in another skanky outfight, made up, and perfumed. A perfect little doll ready to be played with.

Apparently satisfied with her work, Lynx leads her out the door and down one of the seemingly endless spiral staircases to an elevator. This carries them downward with what must be dizzying speed, but Jian barely feels motion. Less than half a minute later, the doors slide open and she and Lynx exit into a large foyer.

The ceiling soars dozens of meters above them and more people than she's seen since her arrival walk through it, headed in various directions. Many are women wearing the same long robes as Lynx, cut to flatter intensely while still revealing only a small amount of bare skin. The Lhameans, Jian realizes now. The rest are a more eclectic mix- warriors in the kabal's bone white and dull green livery, men and women in the dramatic and revealing outfits that she's come to associate with everyday wear in Commorragh, and a pair of massive snake creatures. Jian swallows and forces herself to look away. They won't attack her; they have no reason to. She's no threat, nothing more than another faceless slave in the vastness of the kabal.

Despite the number of people present, the room is eerily silent as Jian and Lynx make their way towards a giant doorway at the far end. It's not, Jian, realizes, that no one is making noise, although there is indeed little conversation, but that something about the acoustics of the space is designed to muffle sound. She finds it a bit unnerving.

They pass through the massive pair of double doors and into the outdoor space of the Ashen Rose's pocket dimension. Jian relaxes a bit as she leaves the giant, empty room and descends a broad set of stairs into the labyrinth of gardens that surround the spire. By the time they've walked ten minutes, she's picked out dozens of varieties of flowers and trees that she recognizes and an equal number that she can't identify. She can't imagine how much work it takes to keep all of it weeded and pruned and trimmed.

Lynx offers a few friendly comments as they walk, but to Jian's relief, still doesn't seem eager to keep up a conversation. After perhaps half an hour, they arrive at another building that stretches up to the dark sky and enter.

Immediately, they're met by a pair of Lhameans. Despite differences in their coloration, features, and build, there's something inexpressibly similar about them. Perhaps a way of carrying themselves or some mannerism. It's present in Lynx as well, she realizes, but to a lesser degree. Without a word, one approaches Jian while the other speaks to Lynx. "In need of healing, I take it?"

Jian takes a step back as the woman begins to get uncomfortably close. Lynx replies to the other Lhamean. "Yes, this is the archon's new concubine. He wants her restored to full health."

"I see. You should have called." This doesn't appear to bother the woman overly much. Her tone is unchanged.

The woman closer to Jian seizes her arm and inspects her burns. "How did you get these?" Before Jian can answer, she bends down to probe at the bruises on her legs, lips pursed. Jian fights the urge to bat her hands away. The beauty of the gardens had distracted her, but now she's back to being a piece of meat.

"Poor thing," murmurs the woman. "You've been through quite a lot, haven't you?" She nudges Jian forward. "Come along, dear." Lynx and the other woman are still speaking, although Jian hasn't been paying enough attention to follow their conversation.

The group arrives in a surprisingly familiar place. It could be any healer's examination room back on Yme-loc. Reena is probably in such a room right now, as a matter of fact. A sudden pang of loss seizes in her throat, but she allows herself to be sat on the exam table as the sister who was speaking with Lynx turns her attention in their direction.

"Now then, let's see… malnourished for certain. A good number of bruises…" Her fingers press into the discolored spots that mottle her body. "Cracked kneecaps…" She speaks to Lynx, not Jian, giving her the uncomfortable feeling of being a child waiting for the adults to tell her if she needs an injection. "…withered muscles, and acid burns bearing the marks of covenite alchemy."

Lynx nods. "That sounds correct."

"I suppose you'll want to stay with her."

Jian looks up. There's a bit of exasperation in the other Lhamean's tone, some kind of tension between the two women that she can't place.

"I will." The slight discordance is reflected in Lynx's reply.

The third woman, who's been bent over the counter along the wall, approaches Jian holding a cup. "Drink this."

She reaches out and takes it, lifting it to her mouth to sip. Nearly half of the strangely sweet, purple liquid has entered her mouth before she realizes what she's doing. She stops and looks up nervously. "What is it?"

"Just a sleep tonic, dear one. You need your rest while we work on your body. Now, drink up."

It's true… there's a heaviness in her head that she didn't feel a few minutes ago… "What are you going to do?"

The Lhamean places her hand on top of Jian's own and guides the cup back to her mouth. "Don't worry, it will be fine."

Lynx is at her side as well. "I'll be with you the whole time."

Panic is rising in her- this is wrong, I can't sleep, what will they do…- but her vision is already starting to go dim.

She sways and remembers no more.

It feels like only an instant later that her eyes snap open. She can't move, can barely focus on the smooth gray ceiling above her, but somehow she feels calm. It takes a moment to realize what's changed.

The pain is gone. All of it, from the deep ache in her knees to the minor stiffness still in her shoulders from holding the same position for too long, it has all disappeared. She closes her eyes, inhales, opens them. She might be strong enough to move now?

"Look who's awake."

Turning her head in the direction of the voice, she finds her sitting in a chair near the examination table, reading something from a dataslate. Jian raises her hand in front of her face. No trace of damage remains. Even the small scar she picked up in a sparring accident has been removed. She pushes herself up to a sitting position. Her clothes are gone and someone has wrapped her in a soft grey robe. The rest of her body seems to be in the same condition as her hand. Even the shape is different. Withered muscles have been restored and what little body fat she had to lose has been returned. It is as though nothing had ever happened. "Wow." Even her voice sounds different, smoother and more melodic than it has before.

"I take it you're pleased with the results?"

"I feel so… whole." Physically, anyway. It's harder to tell how she feels mentally.

"You certainly look great. Much happier, too."

"If you say so." She can't stop looking at herself. I knew drukhari medical technology was incredible… but not like this.

"I'll tell the archon you liked it."

"Thank you." She wants to run, fly. If she can lose herself in the rush of exertion, perhaps she'll be able to clean her mind the way she has her body. "So… what now?"

Lynx puts down the dataslate. "Well, it's early afternoon and you are free to spend the rest of the day as you please. But," her voice takes on a conspiratorial air. "I thought you might like to surprise the archon."

"Surprise him?" She sounds like an idiot, echoing Lynx like she's unable to understand basic speech.

"He's in his throne room, going over some paperwork. I think he might like it if you were to, you know… show him how good you look now." Lynx grins.

No. She can't do that, won't. "Won't he be angry that I intrude?"

"I'm sure he won't. And if he's busy, I'm sure there's a comfortable place for you to wait."

"Bu- alright." There's no point in arguing. She's supposed to be cooperating, pleasing him so she can delay the inevitable a bit longer.

If Lynx notices the hesitation, she doesn't comment. "That's the spirit. Come on, let's get you dressed and head over there."

The walk back to the spire where the archon resides seems to take much less time than their earlier journey did. Lynx leads her back to the same elevator they used before, but this time they emerge in an entirely separate part of the palace, once Jian has never seen before. A pair of large double doors stands at the opposite end of a richly carpeted room dotted with various seating. Although the area doesn't have nearly the traffic of the foyer downstairs, she can see a few Lhameans and a trio of guards.

"Good luck." Lynx smiles encouragingly and nudges her forward.

Balling up her fists, Jian walks towards the doors. A feeling of eerie familiarity overlays and adds to her growing sense of dread. The way her heels sink into the carpet, the brush of chill air on the skin left bare by the slutty outfit.

As she reaches the doors, she stops to look back at Lynx for support. She's already gone. Jian sighs and reaches up to knock. Maybe he won't want to see her. Or would that be bad? But a moment later, the doors swing open and she enters.

The archon is draped lazily over the large black chair at the far end of the room, one bare foot resting on the floor and the other dangling over one of the arm rests. A pile of papers sits in his lap and another one on the floor, next to some kind of glass vessel full of green smoke. He takes a long drag from one of the tubes connected to it and looks up. A smile spreads across his face. "Hello, my dear, how are you doing?"

Jian bows deeply. "I thank you from the bottom of my soul for the treatment, my lord. I did not know it was possible to recover this quickly." She may come to regret being prettier for him, but for the moment, the chance to live without pain seems worth it.

"My pleasure." His eyes travel slowly up and down her body and his smile remains. "You really look quite well, I mean… wow."

A cold feeling settles in the pit of her stomach. "Thank you."

"Why are you here? Not that I complain, of course."

"Lynx thought you might like to, erm, see me. See how I look now."

"Well, I certainly don't object." He looks down at the stack of papers in his lap, then back to her, hunger plain in his expression. His voice, however, is gentle and friendly. "How about if you keep me company while I finish going over this file, and then after we can spar. You used to be a warrior, right? I'm sure you long to hold a blade again."

"I would love that!" she says without thinking. Remembering herself, her position, she forces her face into a more neutral expression and bows again. "Thank you, my lord."

To her surprise, he laughs. "You can call me Valthiel."

"Really?"

"Of course. I asked, didn't I?" He grins at her. "Unless you have a problem with that, of course."

"No I don't… Valthiel." The name feels strange in her mouth, like a secret she shouldn't be telling.

"Then it's settled, Vixen dear." He beckons her over with his hand and she approaches the throne. "Perhaps you could help me with something."

"Alright." She has no idea what 'something' might entail.

He takes her hand, playing idly with her fingers as he thumbs through the papers with his other hand. "So, I've been asked to participate in what I'd classify as a high-risk, high-reward realspace raid. Apparently my corsair connections will allow the force to solidify a safe route to our target, while my kabal's expertise in poison brewing and highly skilled assassins can supplement the attackers. What do you think I should ask for in terms of compensation for my time and resources?"

His tone and posture are casual, almost indifferent, but Jian senses a test in his words. "What do you know about the people that want your assistance?"

"They're a larger kabal known as the Kabal of the Flayed Skull. Their craftsmanship is amazing, the weapons they create have far greater range and accuracy than most and they design some of the best reaver bikes in the dark city."

Strategy was never her gift, and it's hard to come up with anything solid when she knows so little about this place. And what she doesn't know isn't really applicable to the situation. "I don't know exactly what you need… but it seems like a valuable alliance to cultivate? I might ask for a bit less at the outset and negotiate it into a long-term relationship?"

"Interesting. Can you elaborate? And tell me what you'd ask for as payment for the job in question?"

Jian chews on her lip. What is he playing at? "I don't know exactly what you have need of. But point out the differences in specializations between your two groups and how you compliment each other. Ask for a permanent discount on equipment and imply you might be willing to enter into a similar arrangement for your own kabal's services in the future. Don't commit to anything, though, just offer the chance at forming a partnership. Ask for a token payment upfront, too, so they don't feel too much like you're trying to trick them."

He's not laughing, at least. She takes a deep breath, then continues. "If they refuse, just have a long list of the tech you want. It'll make your first offer seem more realistic, but you'll still be satisfied if they go with that."

The archon- Valthiel, she supposes- nods slowly. "Not bad… not bad at all." He looks up and smiles at her. "Thank you very much, you've been most helpful. Please, make yourself comfortable with some wine and rest at the couch over there while I finish my work. It shouldn't take long."

She departs with a nod, grateful for a moment to herself before she's called on to perform again. As she begins to walk away, though, a horrific thought strikes her. It's almost too much to contemplate asking for fear of what he'll say, but she has to know. "If I may ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Who is the raid against?"

"An ambush on a trade route within the Imperium of Mankind. Our goal is to collect working slaves for the dark city industrial complex as well as warriors for the arena and any interesting technology we come across. Personally, I hope to find biological samples from the mutant psykers they use to make up for their inability to access the webway."

"I see. Thank you." Relief floods her. If she'd even inadvertently been helping plan a raid on her fellow aeldari…

Putting the idea from her mind, she turns to leave again. The archon's hand darts out to deliver a playful slap on her ass and she starts, but holds herself from commenting as the all-too-familiar cringing, sick feeling wells up in her again. It is his right, after all.

Seating herself on the couch, she pours some of the offered wine and sips at it as she looks around. Like much of the rest of the fortress-palace, his throne room is cold and empty, with too much space and too little furniture. What is there is heavily embellished in the drukhari fashion, carved and gilded and richly embroidered. It makes a strange contrast. The archon himself remains sprawled over his throne, shifting occasionally or inhaling the green smoke from his pipe. The only sound is her own breathing.

After perhaps an hour, he unfolds himself from his position and walks over to her, stretching lazily. "Alright, work's done. How about that spar?"

"I would love that." She may not be a warrior anymore, but still, she feels the call of Khaine, urging her to lose herself in the death-dance of combat.

"Alright, let's see what you got, then." He flashes her a grin and reaches above her head to pull down a pair of curved sabers hanging on the wall. Keeping one for himself, he hands the other to her.

As soon as she takes the hilt in her hand, it feels as though a change comes over her. A missing piece of herself slots into place and golden fire fills the pieces of her being that the drukhari have chipped and beaten and fucked away from her. She smiles and swings the blade back and forth a few times to test the balance. Satisfied with the weapon, she kicks off the heeled shoes and enters a ready stance. The archon takes a few steps back and bows slightly, motioning for her to go first.

Jian sprints toward him. He's almost certainly planning a counterattack as soon as she's in range. She focuses her intent on avoiding it when it comes. He sidesteps easily and brings up the expected strike of his own…

… A strike that lands a firm smack on her ass with the flat of the blade. Jian feels anger stir. She might be out of practice, but he doesn't need to patronize her! Is the whole thing just going to lead to another humiliation?

She kicks out, pivoting her momentum into a follow-up strike. He steps back, a bit of surprise showing on his face, and she grins. Didn't expect me to recover that fast, did you? If she had her armor, she'd scream with her mask, throw him off balance to give her time for another attack. Instead, she leaps forward, closing the gap between them in an instant.

Their blades meet with a clash and Jian finds herself on the ground. But she's trained scenarios like this hundreds of times. By the time he's finished straightening from the low kick that caught her off balance, she's back on her feet and holding a defensive stance.

"You know," he says with a grin. "I could get used to seeing you on your back."

The comment fails to get a rise from her. The fire burns white hot and she waits, forcing him to take the next offensive. Silence stretches for long heartbeats as she remains on a knife-edge of alertness.

Suddenly, his relaxed demeanor explodes into motion. He's on her in an instant, a flurry of blows raining down on her. She blocks, parries, sidesteps. Khaine's gifts are returning, the reflexes and insight that allow her to direct her movements in the blur of motion her aspect is known for. Momentum thrown off by one of her strikes, he's suddenly wide open. She raises the blade to swing at him, a shout of exhilaration bursting from her.

He stops. Takes two steps back, his hand going to his face in surprise. A thin line of blood wells up from his cheek where the sword grazed him.

Cold water douses the fire. Jian's sword clatters to the ground and she drops to her knees. "Forgive me," she says hoarsely, staring at the floor. Gods, how could she have been so stupid?

The archon begins to laugh. "For what? For taking advantage of a reckless and stupid attack that I'd never have committed to in a real fight? Nah." He presses his sleeve to the wound. "I fucked up and got what I deserved. You're quite the fighter, though, I'm impressed."

Jian stares up at him, confused. "It was what I had devoted myself to…" she responds lamely.

"And now you've drawn first blood against an archon. I'm sure most of your peers will never be able to say the same. He reaches down for her hand and helps her to a standing position, pulling her into a hug and a kiss.

She accepts the attention, still breathing heavily from exertion and adrenaline. She doesn't understand… what does he want from her?

Breaking the kiss, the archon grins at her again. "Hey, don't worry. I'm not going to punish you, okay?"

"Alright. Thank you. Valthiel."

"Perhaps we should take a seat and try some more of that wine."

"I should attend to your cut as well." He doesn't seem upset for the moment, but the more she shows how sorry she is, the less likely he is to change his mind later.

"Oh?" he says as he leads her back to the couch. "I didn't know you had any medical training."

"I don't." She sits down next to him. "But I know how to deal with sparring accidents." Bruises, cuts, twisted ankles, they were all everyday occurrences when you spent your hours perfecting the art of war. She uses one of the streamers dangling from the cuff-like bracelets she's wearing to wipe off most of the blood, then pours a bit of water on a clean corner to wash away the last smudges. Grabbing a bottle of wine, she soaks another patch and daubs it onto the wound. The alcohol content is high enough, it'll probably work to disinfect reasonably well.

"The bleeding's stopped," she says as she pulls her hand away. "If you want a bandage, I can go look for one…"

The archon dismisses the suggestion with a gesture. "Your presence and soothing touch is all I need, dear." He rests his free hand on her knee.

"I'm glad I was able to help." Khaine's fire is gone now and she's back to herself. Just a pretty little doll all dressed up for a man who very much wants her, a man who can and will take her as soon as he gets bored with whatever game he's playing.

"You most certainly have." His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her over until she's straddling his lap. "You're quite lethal with that blade of yours." Even once she's settled, his hands remain on her hips, making small movements that remind her constantly of their presence.

"It's what I devote myself to. Had devoted myself to." Not that it had done much good in the end.

"Perhaps something you would like to continue doing?" He reaches around her and retrieves a goblet of wine, taking a drink before offering it to her.

"Very much so." Jian sips at the pale red liquid. It certainly is strong. She'll be drunk fast if she keeps drinking it.

"Then I will make sure your outfits come equipped with a dagger or two, then, in case you ever need to defend me."

"Is that likely to happen?"

"Not particularly, but it is possible. This is Commorragh, after all. Does that please you? Or do you have another idea?"

She shakes her head. "No, I am very grateful." She doesn't know what having a weapon near her will actually do for her, but it will make her feel less helpless, and perhaps that's all she's hoping for.

"Well, cheers for a step in the right direction, then." Again, he reaches behind her, bringing their bodies into even more contact. This time, he's brought the entire crystal decanter of wine with him when he straightens up. He tops up her glass and grins at her before starting to drink straight from the container.

Jian takes another sip obediently. "What do you wish me to do now?"

"Well," he says, free hand drifting further down to caress her thigh, "I would love to enjoy your company for a far as you're willing to go."

"I am yours to command," she responds. It's becoming easy, automatic, even. "Would you- would you like me to give you another massage?"

"That would be lovely." He releases his hold and twists to allow her to kneel behind him and begin to work on his shoulders. "While you do, could you please share something about yourself? Nothing that you wish to remain secret, of course, but I want to know more about you."

Jian begins her work as she thinks. "I had a lover." Isha's tits, why did she share that of all things?

But it's too late to take it back. "I see." The archon sighs and leans into her touch. "Tell me about her."

"We grew up together. Her parents were friends of my father's. She walks the Path of the Healer, and she was born to it. She has so much talent…" She trails off. The fragile semblance of being alright that she's managed to build up today is shaking and she's not sure how much more she can manage to say. Why did she have to bring up Reena?

"Mmm, she sounds wonderful. I see why you loved her. What was your childhood like, then? And when did the two of you realize you had feelings for each other?"

"Just before I joined the Banshees." She can barely force the words around the lump in her throat.

"What happened? An accidental kiss, or a drunken confession, or what?"

"She asked me, and I accepted. That's it." Why is he doing this? Is this how he intends to torture her, forcing her to relive her happiest memories while he softens her up so that there will be nowhere left to escape, even in her mind?

"Awww! That sounds so cute." The archon half-turns to look at her, smiling. "You're a lucky woman."

"I was."

He doesn't respond for several minutes, apart from a few little sighs of pleasure as she works her way down his back. Finally, he speaks, quietly enough that she has to pause to listen. "I hope to one day make you as happy as she did."

By all the gods, why? What is he trying to accomplish from this? Jian bites her tongue and swallows hard as she resumes her kneading. A moment later, the archon takes one of her hands in his, pulling it forward to plant a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

She breaks off. "I truly am glad you bought me." It might be true. She doesn't know anymore. But it's probably what he wants to hear.

"You deserved much better than that." He pulls her closer, until she's embracing him from behind, and kisses her arm. "I hope this will feel like your home before long."

"Maybe it will."

Without another word, her master reaches back to take her other arm, swinging her around into his lap and another passionate kiss. When he finally pulls away, he pushes a strand of hair away from her face and stares into her eyes. "How about you accompany me to my bed tonight? Not for sex, but to enjoy each other's company and so we don't have to spend the night alone."

"Alright." She's not sure if it was a question.

He stands, still holding her in his arms. "I won't hurt you, I promise," he whispers as he begins to carry her away. His head leans down against hers, covering her face in a curtain of his hair.

Jian's chest seizes. Lynx's advice from the other day has come back to her yet again, reminding her that her position here is as fragile as his interest in her. Her job is to satisfy all his needs, and it seems that he somehow desires her permission to have his way with her. She could delay for longer… but that will only make it worse when she does give in. And if he gets tired of waiting, that will be worse. Yesterday morning will be nothing in comparison.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. She hopes Reena will hear her. Understand.

Forgive her.

"For what?" the archon asks.

Jian closes her eyes. Breathes deeply. After a long time, she opens them again. "I know why you bought me. And that you haven't been getting it." Her last chance to turn back. "You can have me. If you want."

The archon starts. "…are you sure?" He shifts her position, giving him a free hand to stroke her ear.

She stiffens at the intimacy of the contact, but it actually feels rather nice. Again, her body betrays her. "Yes."

"Then in that case, I think you deserve a far better name than Vixen. One that you can pick out for yourself." He kisses her neck, and she can feel his teeth nip into her skin.

"Any name?"

"Any name you want. You can think about it for a while if you need to." Jian nods into his shoulder.

Time loses its meaning after that. At least a full day and night passes. She hits his bed at some point, and by the time she does, he's pulled the clothing from her body and the pins from her hair. They roll over and over, twisting together in endless combinations until it seems as though her skin will split and spill the pleasure that swells her to bursting. Time and again she screams his name as he takes everything her body has to offer, bringing her to peaks and then pushing past them to new horizons of sensation. A blurry unreality covers the entire experience. It's as if she's been poisoned, or drugged, a haze of wrongness that taints her mind and leaves her desperate for an end even as she climaxes again.

Finally, when pleasures have been exhausted and there's only the sweaty bodies and tangled sheets, she falls into the troubled darkness of sleep.

When she wakes, she does so still in her master's arms. His naked body presses against her, exhaling hot in her ear. Wordlessly, he strokes her breasts and runs his fingers along her collar, building the warmth in her gut that must have woken her.

Jian lies still, too exhausted to think about anything beyond the here and now. Her body aches deeply. Their fluids mix with sweat in a sticky mess that coats her thighs and dries on her chest and sticks in her hair.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," the archon whispers in her ear. "I know it must have been difficult for you."

Her throat hurts and the voice that comes out of her mouth is rough. "And I… thank you… for waiting until I was ready."

"You were more than worth the wait, dear," he replies, kissing her neck. "Why don't we spend the day in bed here together? We've had an intense few days."

"Doing what?" How can he want more? All she wants is to sleep and try to forget.

"Just talking." He rubs her stomach possessively. "Getting to know one another. Feasting on wine and fruit and red meat on the bone." She can hear the grin in his voice.

"I would very much like some food, my lord. Thank you."

The archon flinches. "Whatever happened to calling me Valthiel?"

"I'm sorry, Valthiel. I'm still not quite used to it." It hadn't seemed appropriate.

He relaxes with a sigh, returning to his caresses. A few minutes later, he speaks again, shaking Jian from her stupor. "What did you dream of for your life, before you came here?"

Tears prick at her eyes. Can't she have her own mind, even for a moment? "All I wanted was to continue exploring the galaxy with my mother and my lover and my sisters in arms at my side."

"You love traveling and exploration, then?"

"I do. I had given a thought to taking up the Path of the Mariner, but Khaine's call was stronger."

"I love- or, well, I loved to travel as well, as the captain of my own fleet of corsairs. Perhaps with you at my side, I'll do it again." He begins to play with her hair.

"If you love it so much, why did you stop?" She's speaking automatically, asking the obvious questions so she doesn't have to think or feel.

"I was always torn between worlds. My place is here, with the kabal I serve and the memories I protect. But my life among the stars and the one I shared it with called me every moment I was in Commorragh." He laughs bitterly. "We made such an odd team, but when she was gone, it just wasn't the same."

She processes this silently. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he sighs. "Are you warm enough?"

Jian's breath catches in her throat. "You can stop pretending now. Just tell me how and where you want me and I'll be there." The longer this twisted parody of a romance goes on, the more she loathes it, and herself for going along with it.

She can feel him flinch as though she's struck him, but his voice is perfectly steady. "I know this is difficult for you to understand and even harder to respond in kind to, but I do care about you for more than just your body."

"Alright." She doesn't sound convincing, even to herself.

"Perhaps one day you'll believe me." He sounds calm, resigned, but she can detect the hurt in his tone underneath it all. She's gone too far, shattered the illusion.

"Thank you for all you have done for me. It really was more than you had to." And more than she deserved, in a way.

"Don't thank me," he mutters. "Apparently it was all so you'd let me fuck you."

"Well you have now, and may do so again. But I thank you for letting me have time to prepare and- "

"And I could have done it right away, couldn't I? I could have claimed you right there on the dinner table the first night. But I didn't!" The charm and composure is gone from his voice, matching the rawness of her own. "Could it be that I was after your company instead?"

"I don't know, I- "

He sits up and his voice rises in volume as he speaks, hurt and anger becoming more and more plain. "When I saw you there in your cage, I thought I could bring you here and add some laughter and a soothed heart to my long, empty nights in this miserable city. I thought I was doing something good. But apparently I was mistaken." Jumping from the bed, he wraps a robe around himself as he stalks towards the door. "Fuck it all," he mutters.

The door slams, leaving Jian alone in the dimly lit room. As the shock abates, cold fear fills her, along with a sense of shame that she can't place. Why couldn't she have just kept nodding along? Agreed to whatever he wanted her to do? It would have been a small price to pay for her life. All the dark fears and imagined fates of the past weeks return to her mind.

What has she done?

The nameless slave remains alone for hours, wearing only the silver band that marks her property of another. She sits on his bed, in his room. Eyes dry, trembling but afraid to touch even a blanket to cover her nakedness, she steels herself for the tortures to come.

In another part of the spire, her master howls in frustration. Over and over his fist slams into the wall, trying to blot out the pain of the girl's rejection and the truth of her accusations in white hot agony. And when it's over and the hurt and anger have faded to a cold emptiness, he slides to the ground, cradling the mess of blood and shattered bones that used to be his arm. Tears run down his face as, like her, he resigns himself to his fate.

Valthiel: *Rapes his new slave girl, parades her around in skimpy outfits, takes every opportunity to put her in physical contact with him, is moody and unclear about his intentions*

Jian: "I don't think you're serious when you say you care about me as more than a fucktoy"

Valthiel: *Surprised Pikachu face*