Author's Note: Okay, here we go! I like writing V's perspective much more than Evey's, but I thought that this chapter most definitely needed a woman's touch! Thank you for all of your reviews, I love them, you're wonderful! Warning, this chapter gets a little, ah…intense toward the end, so skip it if that makes you nervous!
EveyI had told V the one story that I promised no one else would ever know- the story of how my family had been torn apart, first by my brother's sickness and then by the black bags that stole my parents. V had not tried to coax me out of my room in all of the days that I'd spent away from him. I admit that it had been difficult to spend so many long hours alone- even when I'd gone to the kitchen for a bit of food, I hadn't seen him anywhere in the Gallery. I had wanted to see him, I admit it now, I'd wanted to see him in the hopes that he would explain himself.
Why was he after the government? Why had he killed Lewis Prothero?
In the message he'd forced to be broadcast on BTN, V had went on and on about how Sutler's government had suppressed the public. Nothing he'd said had been untrue- but why resort to cold-blooded murder and terrorism in order to get his way? The answer was as unclear as ever, and after the way I'd lashed out at him, V had refused any explanations.
I'd told him of my life and all that had happened since. I begged him to let me help. The silence had hung in the air once I'd finished- it was unlike V to be so quiet, so pensive. I had tried to seem as sincere as I could, so long as he would trust that I believed in his insane scheme to overthrow the government.
Lying to him made me feel dirty, as dirty as the whore V wanted me to portray.
The mask had stared back at me for several long moments once I'd finished telling him exactly what he wanted to hear- the ticking of every clock in the Gallery seemed to echo in the silence as he watched me, almost as if waiting for me to make the wrong move that would prove fatal. At length he only said, "If you wish…"
What I wished for was that things went back to what passed as normal after our talk, but they didn't. V continued to disappear for hours at a time without a word, and when he would reappear, almost out of thin air, he never mentioned where he had gone or what he had done. We still spoke during meals and throughout the day, but V no longer bothered with explaining his paintings or plays- after the Count of Monte Cristo, V didn't invite me to see any of his other films.
My friend V had gone away, leaving behind the indifferent, nonchalant man I'd first met…he was almost cold, and I'd never missed him as much as when he'd withdrawn from me.
It was a few days after our talk when V took me up on my offer to help him. I had been tidying up my room- even after all the time I'd spent there, I hadn't really explored the treasures that it held. I had read a few of the books that were piled all about the space, but I hadn't taken much interest in anything else.
Covered in several years worth of dust, I found a mirror. It was a beautiful silver threefold stand, engraved with the Latin phrase Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici. So caught up I had been in my little chore, I hadn't heard V slip into my room. I started when the mask appeared beside me in the reflection. I turned around to see what it was he needed.
"It appears that unforeseen circumstances have accelerated my original plan. As a result I am in need of someone with some theatrical skill."
His words slipped over me, and for a moment I'd forgotten my own plan of escape. With his voice alone, V was compelling me to go along with him, to be by his side for whatever adventure he had in mind. But the moment quickly passed, and I was reminded of my own need to deceive him- I had to put an end to his murders, not help him.
"I'll do my best," I assured him as I set the rag aside and stood to follow him out of the room.
V nodded and stepped out into the corridor, "I believe you will."
There was a strange tone to his voice at that last comment, but I didn't think anything of it as I followed him into the hall, and he lead me closer toward the dead end. V lifted his hand and pressed softly against the stone- I tried to hide my surprise as the wall separated down the middle, the two halves swinging in like a set of simple double doors. V turned back to look at me, and the mask's smile seemed for a moment to appreciate that he'd found yet another thing to amaze me with.
V turned forward and strode into a wonderful anteroom.
It was a part of his home I'd never known existed, let alone seen before; it was just as beautiful as all the rest of his Gallery. Books were piled all along the walls and in every corner of the anteroom, though I noticed that there was at least some recognizable order to them, rather than the way he'd stored them in my own room.
Looking through into the main room, I could see landscape paintings in gilded frames covering every inch of the far wall, from top to bottom. As he lead me out of the anteroom, I found that the floor was not stone as it was in the corridor; V had placed several carpets over the stone, all of different colors and patterns, they overlapped each other in several places to cover the breadth of the large room.
Resting just between the anteroom and the main room was a tall polished table of dark mahogany; the only thing set atop it was a crystal vase, bursting with roses. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw them- I'd been underground so long that I'd forgotten all about flowers and the sun. The crimson blooms were gorgeous, and just as I reached out to lift one, V placed his hand over mine.
He had suddenly come to stand at my side, very close. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and a strange shiver went down my back. The mask was inscrutable as always, but V tilted his head softly to the side and moved closer to whisper in my ear, "Have caution, Evey. Some of the most beautiful things in this world hold the greatest deceit."
The long fingers around my wrist tensed slightly; for a moment I had the terrible feeling that he knew my secret hope to escape, and I shivered for a different reason altogether. V didn't release my hand, but he did draw back and lead me further into the hidden room. Just as with the rest of the Gallery, the room was beautiful, even if cluttered and completely mismatched.
I'd been expecting the books and paintings, the various porcelain busts and old Hollywood posters, but the thing that I had not been expecting was the most prominent piece of furniture in the room.
A bed.
Turning, I noticed the alcove to the side, where there was a theater dressing table and a coat rack, from which hung V's cloak and his wide-brimmed fedora hat. There was a wig stand on the vanity counter, surrounded by several spare leather gloves.
My eyes were wandering over the wonderful space, so full of collections from the past. The portraits and landscapes, the statuettes, the dressing table, the roses…too late I realized where I was, where V had brought me.
This was V's room, and that was V's bed.
My eyes were drawn to his bed, entranced. This was V's most personal space in the entire Gallery, it was where he was at his most vulnerable, it was where he felt comfortable enough to remove the mask and sleep…
This was where V slept…I was suddenly very aware of V as a man- he was not the mask, not the shadow…he was a man with spirit and feeling, dreams and little doubt. V was a man who breathed and read, ate and slept…alone. I wondered if perhaps, V had ever had any friends, or if he really was crazy, deemed too dangerous for the rest of the world, and banished from London, only to have built his grand house right under the noses of those who'd scorned him.
I wondered if he ever felt lonely, and the answer was entirely obvious. For all of the treasure that V had surrounded himself with, there was no one else here to enjoy it.
Except me, but for how much longer?
I turned to the man standing at my side, whose dangerous hand was still twined around my own. His hands were large, his tapered fingers long and very warm. While I had been unable to stop myself from staring, transfixed with the simple sight of his bed, V released his hold and moved to the other side of his room. The soft footfalls of his boots took him to a large wooden chest, a beautiful piece of carved Asian craftsmanship. I watched as he kneeled down and flipped open the latch.
"V, what are you doing?" I asked.
He opened the lid of the chest, and turned to look up at me. "I thought I'd been clear in my need for a true thespian. I need you to call upon your acting talents tonight, Evey, and what is an actress without her costume?"
V stood and turned to face me in one fluid movement, a hideous getup in his hands. I couldn't speak as he presented me with the ridiculous outfit- a garish full skirt, a floral blouse with ruffled cap sleeves, a matching pair of pink Mary Jane slippers and white knee-high stockings. I could barely hide my disgust as he handed it over to me.
"I know that this is not something that you would choose for yourself, but the costume is necessary for the performance. Please, try it on." The strange tone was back in his voice, and his words left me no room to protest.
Just go along with it, I reasoned, this could be the only chance to get away, to find someone that can help stop V from killing more people…if I argue, V won't trust me enough to let me out of his Gallery, his beautiful prison…
I took the costume from him, my cheeks and neck suddenly on fire when I saw the white lace thong included with the sick getup.
"I will step out into the hall and wait while you change. No worries, Evey, I promise not to peek." As V did as he said he would, I realized that the thought never crossed my mind that he might be tempted to.
He stepped past me and closed the doors behind himself, leaving me with no choice but to change into the crazy costume that he'd provided. I changed into it quickly, feeling entirely too exposed in the skirt and too-tight blouse. V had a hinged mirror in the corner- unlike the one I'd found in my room, his mirror had not a spec of dust on its glassy surface.
Checking my reflection, I thought I looked like a cross between a kewpie doll and a cheap prostitute. I called out to let V know that I was decent. He stepped into the room and paused once he saw me. I moved back a little, uselessly trying to hide behind one of his bedposts- I knew that it'd be pointless as he would want to see me in full to gage how he could use me in whatever plot he had arranged for tonight.
He stepped closer, and closer, until he finally stopped and offered his hand. I took it and he drew me away from his bed, leading me out of the shadow. He took a step back and tilted his head to one side, then the other. Gooseflesh has risen due to his intense scrutiny, and the draft on my overexposed body.
I didn't know what to say, and V wasn't offering any words of reassurance, comfort or critique. He moved forward, circling me like a strange black shark. He circled once, twice, and then stopped in front of me. I watched as his frozen smiling face traveled up and down my body- suddenly, he reached out to touch me.
His fingertips slid up my arms, starting at my wrists, up and up, leaving me trying to suppress the bolt of strange arousal I felt from his gentle hands. The hands, those powerful, dangerous hands slid up my arms, until his fingers curled around to cup my shoulders. He quickly turned me around so that he stood just behind me- I could feel the heat from his body; I could hear his soft breathing, even behind the mask.
He turned so both so that we stood before his mirror- I don't know why I'd suddenly become so hot, but I couldn't hide my reaction to what he was doing to me. My face was flushed in the mirror; we could both see it crystal-clear. It was strange, but I had thought that we made something of an erotic picture, despite the only touching was V's hands cupping my shoulders. Both bizarre and alluring, the two of us, together.
We stood there, silent for several long minutes, but I felt that I had to break it. "V, what are you asking me to do?"
His masked face jerked slightly, and I knew that I had brought him out of some memory, or perhaps a stirring daydream. The hands on my shoulders clenched briefly and he leaned down to speak softly into my ear. "You said that you wanted to help me, Evey, and I've discovered a way that you can. There is a man with very special tastes, he prefers something of a paradox in the girls that share his bed," I couldn't stop myself, I shivered under his hands at the sound and nearness of his voice. He turned me to face him, though his hands didn't leave my body.
"His name is Peter Liliman. As I said, the man prefers something of the paradoxal. I need you for this; on the outside you must portray an innocent beauty, belying the deceit just beneath the surface." He paused then, and brought the smiling masked lips to my ear- I half expected him to kiss my temple, the odd way V was behaving. "I trust this will be no great stretch for you."
Something was going on- was V tempting me, or had he seen right through my scheme to try to escape? I felt paranoid and afraid and charged all at once. Looking into the mask's eyes told me nothing, and that was only one of the many great advantages he had over me. Strength and physical prowess aside, V could overpower me with his voice.
"I- I…"
I couldn't speak- I didn't know whether or not V knew and was just toying with me, waiting until I confessed, or if his strange behavior was genuine- and if so, then I was in more serious trouble than if he'd realized my plans of betraying him.
"Ah ,yes, my ingénue needs to rehearse the scene, doesn't she? After all, what is an actress in costume if there is no script? Well, Evey, as you are already in character, I suppose that I ought to step in for our dear Peter Liliman. Shall we?"
His voice had changed again, he sounded suddenly excited.
He released my shoulders and took a step back. "Remember to stay in character, Evey. I'll walk you through the scene, but you must pay very close attention. Your curtain call is in just a few hours. Now, I will act as Liliman, and you must remain in your part."
I nodded dumbly at what he was trying to tell me, and he took my hand again. A powerful bolt of terror shot through me once I saw that V was leading me to sit beside him on his bed. He sat down first, and patted the place where he'd like me to sit. I sat down and crossed my legs- the skirt really was quite short.
"Now, now, Evey, you mustn't be bashful around Peter Liliman- he simply won't have it. Uncross your legs." He ordered. I was so shocked by what he demanded of me that I didn't react quickly enough for V's satisfaction.
He reached over, his gloved hand on my knees, and uncrossed them for me, forcing my legs apart. One of his hands remained on my leg. My breathing was suddenly the most difficult thing in the world; I know that V felt my body trembling under his hands.
"He may try to use compliments meant to distract you, all the while seducing your body…"
The hand remaining on my knee began to circle my kneecap, sending a spiraling rush up my body. It was arousing, erotic, and comforting. V's touch and presence was hypnotic- all along, since the first night he'd saved me, I had thought myself insane for the perverse attraction I'd felt toward him from the very beginning. It was a girl's fantasy, something out of a Gothic romance novel.
The masked man, armed only with a cloak and dagger emerges from the shadows to defend a poor maiden from lusting, hulking thugs. He'd dispatched with them easily, without a sign of effort; he'd shown me amazing, terrifying things on a rooftop and he'd made the sky burn with flying colors. He'd walked me home without a word demanding any sort of repayment; the final things he'd said had been, "Goodnight Evey, and please, stay safe."
He'd brought me down into his home of treasures, opened up a world of beauty and magic- and all the while, he was as dangerous as he was alluring. He touched me again, this time his other hand reached to the back of my neck, snaking through my hair to caress my nape. I felt my eyes flutter closed at the familiar sensations of being seduced- it was the strangest thing, to be so aroused by a man in a mask.
My eyes slid shut, and I felt myself slip further and further into this strange sexual game of his. My logic lulled into pure sensation as he kneaded the tension from my neck and shoulder, so much that it barely registered when his hand moved farther up my leg. I heard and felt the mattress shift under his weight as he moved closer, his voice low and sibilant, intoxicating and commanding. He'd lulled me into a trance, hypnotizing me…
"Do you know how beautiful you are? You know it, I'm sure you do," he whispered raggedly against my ear.
The hand at my neck moved farther up to run through my hair, stroking surely, slowly. I couldn't stop myself from slipping into his game. He wanted me to play the role, what choice did I have but to obey? His voice made me forget my true motive of escape, made me forget about this Peter Liliman, about Norsefire, about everything…
His voice was coaxing, compelling…the hand on my knee began to move up my leg, slowly, slowly…
He asked the question again and again, his voice becoming both softer and yet more demanding each time. The hand that had been stroking my neck and my hair moved forward and down, until his long fingers were splayed just between my breasts. Why was he doing this? What was he trying to accomplish?
I was completely in his grasp, and it took V just the slightest effort to push me onto my back. The comforter was smooth and cool beneath me; V's hand had slipped under the garish skirt, the long fingers were resting just on my hip. Heat spread over my entire body, sapping the strength from my will. Even as V touched me, feeding the fire that spread through my blood, I knew that I could not give in.
I could not tell him, I could not tell him…I'm so sorry, V, but I can't stand by and let you kill anymore!"I cannot anticipate how he will react to you, Evey. If he is as pleased by you as I, then he will be gentle, soft and patient..." I felt V's fingers toy with the strap of the lace thong; just barely brushing the skin. I was close to begging, but I didn't care anymore- I was resolved to betray that madman, but at that moment, I wanted him to make me forget the horrible thing that I would soon have no choice but to do.
My mind was drowning in his voice and touch…
"But you are not the girl he is expecting, he may find you too mature for his twisted tastes. By the time you meet with him, it will be too late to dismiss you and find another girl- this will not please him, and when Peter Liliman is not pleased…"
V moved so quickly that once I'd opened my eyes, hehad alreadystraddled me, his body pressing me into the bed. Where a moment ago I would have welcomed his weight above me, I was terrified. He'd pounced me, pinned me, and one of his hands was wrapped around my throat, drawing tighter and tighter…
"Liliman will not appreciate your stubbornness, Evey. He, like any man, enjoys the struggle; the battle of wills- but it is your submission that he relishes most. Whether by simple seduction or by complete force, it will be the look of defeat, the spark fading from your eyes that will give him the greatest satisfaction."
I raised my arms and grabbed at V's wrist, but I knew it was useless- he'd fought off Fingermen and the police, there was no way in Hell that he'd even register the weak flailing of a girl pinned beneath him. "If he is not pleased, he will take you by force. I've seen him do it to countless others half your age. Have you ever been raped, Evey? No? You are wrong! You and I, everyone at Larkhill and London have all been stripped down and raped of our freedom, every day since Sutler came into power! And why? Because we were weak, too weak to see the danger we'd invited in once fear took control of our lives."
V's hold had been tight around my throat, but I was still able to breath. I could have said something, but I didn't, I stared into the eyes of the mask. The way V's head was tilted, the lighting of his bedroom…I saw, just for a moment, a glint just behind the black slits of the mask eyeholes. His eyes were tearful, but not from sadness- that was an emotion too common for a moment such as this. I could barely place the emotions in his voice, but in my heart I knew all too well what he was feeling: desperation, lust, and unimaginable inner conflict.
He tilted his head further, and I could see just the faintest outline of a human eye behind the mask, and then, with another minute tilt of his head, once again I could see nothing.
"You looked me right in the eyes and said that you wanted to help. Before the time comes, I want you to think about the consequences, Evey, for whatever choice you make."
The gloved hand released my throat, the lithe black form lifted from my body. V slid off his bed and he stood mere steps away. I hastily sat up and tried to cover myself from his laughing eyes, and I looked up at him, hoping for some kind of explanation, some gentle reassurance, something, anything!
V said nothing, but glided to the doorway. I still sat there on his bed, looking every bit the pathetic child-whore he wanted me to be. V paused just before slipping out through the anteroom, but he did not turn to face me. "There are hair ribbons and some makeup before the Faustian mirror in your bedroom. If all goes as it should, we will return home and I will be glad to read you the play. As you said before, Evey, it's all about trying to cheat the devil."
V turned and left me then, and all I could do was laugh, because if I had begun to cry, I knew that I would be driven mad by my own tears.