Chapter 2

What the hell am I thinking? Taking on a worthless position? Acting like a fucking leader when I know and everyone else knows I'm not? Shit. Riddick shook his head, staring down into the now empty throne room from the top level. He saw Dame Vaako sneaking around the other side of the balcony, every now and then pausing in a shadow to hold binoculars up to her eyes. Riddick snickered to himself. Evidently they don't know about a shine. Should probably kill her. She's probably the reason Vaako got himself into his own little mess anyway. He pushed the thought away. Kyra wouldn't have wanted him to do that. His eyebrow rose at that consideration. Since when did you listen to anyone's voice of reason, let alone your own? He sighed, leaning forward against the stone railing. Dame Vaako was still lurking somewhere but he wasn't worried about it, though she was probably already plotting his demise to benefit her husband.

Lord Vaako was what he couldn't figure out though. If he wants a position of power why not just fucking take it? I offered. Hell, I'd even fake a death at his hands if it would work. This behind the scenes shit is gonna get on my fucking nerves eventually. He sighed heavily, leaving the balcony to continue his exploration. Deal with it when it gets here.

He headed down a hallway he'd not been down before, just because it was darker than the others. Hell, it was nearly unlit. His lips parted in a wide grin, but it ended in a heavy sigh. He leaned against the wall between two large statues and slid to the ground, suddenly feeling exhausted. His mental photo album of Kyra – and Jack – went into over drive as he stared off into space. A sudden flash of heat impression snapped him back to reality, and he jumped. He would have stood, but he'd been sitting there long enough for everything below his ass to go numb. A light touch on his cheek made him start again, and a woman's face came into focus.

"Who the fuck are you?" She shushed him, shaking her head as she placed her thumb lightly over his lips.

"You can't be seen like this," she whispered. "Come." He was about to tell her to go fuck herself, but her hand closed around his elbow and pulled, so he got to his feet and followed her through the shadows to a door. Evidently she'd snuck around before, from the way she dodged any lighting. She glanced past him and then up at him before leading him through a heavy wooden door, locking it behind them.

He stood in the middle of the room, if that's what it was, just looking around. More like a cell. All it contained was a small cot and a sink, but there was another door on the back wall, so there was no telling what this was.

"Come," she repeated, gently touching his shoulder before moving to the door at the opposite wall. His eyebrow rose, and he stood his ground. She paused, knowing he wasn't obeying her order, and turned slowly, eyes shining angrily. "Come," she said more firmly this time, but he only crossed his arms over his chest. "God damn it, get your filthy ass in this fucking bathroom," she finally exploded. Both of his eyebrows now shot up, and he chuckled slightly. Well, if you want to be like that… He complied, albeit slowly, following her into a small bathroom.

"So what's this corridor for anyway? Seems a little shady compared to the rest of this place," he commented, sitting on the side of the tub.

"You need to wash up," she said quietly, dodging his question. Interesting. Either can't talk about it or doesn't want to. "Come on." She motioned for him to stand, so he did, watching her approach him without the slightest hesitation. She grasped his wrists to raise his arms, then ripped his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" Riddick asked slowly. She didn't answer, only worked his belt loose and then started on his pants. "What the fuck are you doing?" Riddick asked more forcefully this time, backing away. She jumped at the sudden outburst, but didn't cower like he'd expected her to.

"You need to wash up," she repeated quietly.

"For what?" His voice betrayed his distrust, but he didn't care.

"They can't see you like this."

"Like what?" Her eyes met his. Once again, she didn't cower. She wasn't afraid of those eyes. She closed the distance she'd created between them when he yelled at her, reaching for his hand, but he jerked it away. She sighed, sticking her hand out and staring up at him until she felt him give it up. He let her lift his hand to his face, and pulled away from her when he felt the wetness. I have not been crying.

"You can't let them see you like this," she said gently. "Come on." She reached for his waistband again, but he backed away from her.

"What the hell makes you think I trust you down there?" He thought he saw a flash of a smirk run quickly over her features, but couldn't be sure.

"You can't be afraid of me," she said mockingly, making a show of looking him up and down. He snorted, and she nodded. "See? Now come on. You're wasting time."

"What's the hurry? I have a shower at my place," he huffed. She openly laughed this time.

"And they'll see you walking to it. Now stop being an ass and let me help you."

"I can bathe myself you know," he pressed. She rolled her eyes, her hands settling on her hips as she sighed. "Who the fuck are you, anyway?" Her eyes darted up to his quickly, and then fell away, focusing on the stone flooring instead.

"My name is Sevic," she said quietly, pronouncing her name 'Sevitch'. "And you're the Riddick."

"Not the Riddick," he corrected. "Riddick is my name."

"What kind of a name is Riddick?" she asked, her voice serious.

"What the hell kind of a name is Sevic?" he retorted. Her eyes met his again, and she didn't fight the small smile.

"Touché." She glanced at the large bathtub and back up at him. "Well?"

"I can do this myself," he insisted. She blinked a few times, as though he'd struck her, but covered it quickly and shrugged.

"Have at it then." He watched her reach into a cabinet and pull out fluffy towels, draping them over the side of the bathtub. "There are some clothes in the other cabinet that might fit you," she said, glancing over him again quickly. "You seem to like black, so you should be fine." His eyebrow rose. Her voice still had a touch of injure in it, but he didn't ask. She turned without another word and closed the door behind her.

She heard the door open and turned her head. He stood in the doorway, dressed in what she'd predicted – a black tee shirt and black sweat pants. She gave him a slight nod and returned to staring at the ceiling, feeling him looking her over. Her clothes were similar – black pants, though a bit tighter, and a black long sleeve shirt, also tighter than his.

"Am I more presentable now?" she heard him ask, his voice slightly disdainful. She nodded once, but didn't turn back to him. "Who are you, really?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, still not looking at him. Just fucking get on with it, she thought. Shush. Maybe he just wanted a shower.

"I know your name, but nothing else." She couldn't hide her surprise at that statement.

"You're not supposed to," she said slowly. His eyebrow rose, and she felt the fear rise again, but as before, hid it completely. He wasn't the first man in her chambers to scare her shitless.

"You know about me." She bit back a snicker.

"I'm supposed to," she said lightly, meeting his eyes again. "It's my job."

"And what job would that be?" he pressed, taking a few steps toward her. Good god, he's massive. Her eyes closed. Said too much, Sevic. Dumbass.

"You should go. They're probably expecting you."

"Nice try," he said, walking closer to her.

"They monitor your quarters," she said more quickly. "If you don't return soon they'll go looking for you, and that's trouble I don't really feel like dealing with."

"I'm not leaving until you spill it," he threatened. She sighed, sitting up.

"The Lord Marshall isn't supposed to come here. He requests us and we're escorted to his quarters. If they find you here you'll be publicly reprimanded and that won't look good. Even the Lord Marshall has rules to follow."

"I'm not the Lord Marshall." She looked up at him, eyebrow poised.

"Really."

"Yes, really, so fucking start talking or I will kill you."

"You have no reason to." Her voice held a challenge, and she instantly regretted it. His hands clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw rippling as his nostrils flared. He's holding back, she thought, appalled. Why is he holding back. "But if you really feel like you don't need a reason to, please get on with it."

"Why is this hallway so dark?"

"Anonymity," she answered. "Condoned but not accepted. Scorned but not scolded." Riddick's eyebrows furled. "What do you want from me?" she asked, surprised at the strength in her voice. She'd already divulged much more than she should have.

"Answers."

"Not today, Riddick. You have to get back." His eyebrow rose, but he nodded, and she glanced at the door. The knots in her stomach didn't untwist after the door closed behind him, and she flopped back over onto her bed, her lungs deflating in a huge sigh. Great going, Sevic. Now he's going to summon you and you'll have to go. Shit. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

She'd been isolated for so long she'd lost any memory of what came before, partly out of survival. If she didn't think on the past, the present wasn't so painful. Many of the others in this hallway had their own rules – some even enjoyed their place in society, but not Sevic. She'd not requested this life and refused to learn to like it. She only hoped this Riddick wouldn't be as bad as the others.