Author's Note:
It starts with smut. It goes on past that to other things.
Kaiya woke to Arjuna's hand between her legs, a moan on her lips. She'd passed out after the fourth time he'd had sex with her and at first she thought this was a continuation of that. But no, that couldn't be right. Arjuna's leisurely stroking had aroused her out of a deep, long sleep. She could tell from the fog in her mind and the lethargy in her limbs.
His long fingers moved in and out of her, sliding easily in a way that made each touch sizzle through her body, interfering with her attempt to understand exactly what was going on. When his mouth brushed over her breast again, she bit her lip and whimpered.
"Awake?" he murmured against her soft skin, and she could feel the rumble of his chest against her arm.
Catching her breath as his fingers pushed deeper and her hips jerked pleasurably, she still managed to demand, "What… what the hell have you been doing to me while I slept?"
"Very little," he said, and traced his tongue down the valley between her breasts. "But it's time for you to wake up, Master. You never did eat much breakfast and I dislike the thought of you becoming even more scrawny."
He withdrew his fingers from her and a surge of unconscious anger passed through her at the loss. Then he rolled onto her, settling himself between her legs, his cock nudging between her folds. He stayed like that a moment, looking down at her with an inscrutable expression. Irritably, she said, "This isn't feeding me, you know."
The demon flickered through his eyes and he lowered his mouth to her ear to whisper, "No. But you'll enjoy it anyhow, won't you?" Slowly, he pushed himself into her, and then just as slowly withdrew, the length of his shaft a maddening tease across her most sensitive regions. Then he did it again, and again, an unhurried motion that only amplified her need.
She squirmed against him, trying to push past this torment. Having him on top of her, her chest rubbing against his as he whispered in her ear was almost overwhelmingly erotic. He'd only taken her from behind that morning, even when he'd used his tongue. She'd thought it was a kink of his she'd have to get used to.
"If you dislike my body so much, why are you fucking me for the fifth time in a day?" she asked through gritted teeth, hoping once again to provoke him into more forceful attentions. But this time she failed.
"Because you're mine," he whispered against her ear as he lazily moved inside her. "My precious Master, all mine. And I want to make you scream."
This made Kaiya press her lips tightly together. He'd succeeded in making her shriek a few times before without resorting to this infuriating slowness. She'd been so pleased (for lack of a better word) earlier with his roughness; she'd felt like they'd finally understood each other. Now there was this bullshit.
"I could just stop instead," he breathed, tickling her ear. "Leave you unsatisfied."
"Go right ahead!" she told him angrily. "I'll be just fine."
He laughed. "Liar. I heard you whining earlier." Then he was kissing her, his tongue pushing past her pressed lips and dominating her own like she'd let him in.
Kaiya gave up, unable to concentrate on anything other than the frantic signals of her body. She needed his stiff cock inside her, whether he went fast or slow. She needed his mouth and teeth, whether he was gentle or harsh. Her thighs ached but she moved under him anyhow, driving herself against him until she found a rhythm of her own in his long thrusts. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. He lifted his head and bared his teeth at her, sweat glittering on his brow and mingling between their heated bodies.
She closed her eyes as her climax swept over her, as perfectly overwhelming as when he'd bitten her shoulder. Through the glaze of pleasure, she felt him stop moving and press his forehead against hers. "You see, my light? I'm not always so punishing a lover. How boring that would be."
Then he was gone, leaving her trembling alone on the bed. As the bliss slowly faded from her nerves and the cool air dried her sweat, she began to shiver. She tried to roll on her side to curl into a ball, and groaned as the ache in her muscles overwhelmed the painkilling effect of endorphins. Quickly all the scratches and bites she'd accumulated in the last eight hours spoke up too, determined to have their say.
Oh dear god. What had she been thinking? What had she agreed to? How loud had she screamed? Would she ever walk again? She doubted it. Oh hell, if Nightingale saw her like this she'd try to murder Arjuna. She should have run. She should have confided in da Vinci. She should have used the damn command seals to order Arjuna—
No. She shouldn't have ordered him to hug her. She should have respected da Vinci's advice. She should have left well enough alone. She could hear her mother lecturing in the back of her head. Survive. Survive. And then the memory of her mother brushed ghostly fingers through her hair. You survived.
It was true. He hadn't killed her, and she'd earned every ache and scratch and bruise. If she had to crawl through the next few days as a mass of welts, shoulders bowed under everybody's knowing sneers, well, she deserved that too.
She felt around on the bed until she found a blanket and pulled it completely over herself, hiding away from everything. This was awful. She was awful. No wonder he'd simply walked away after finishing with her.
Unexpectedly, the blanket was ripped away from her and Arjuna scooped her up to cradle her to his bare chest. She hunched further into her ball, blearily hoping he'd drop her. Instead he carried her across the room and into the bathroom. Opening one eye, she caught a glimpse of her appearance in the vanity mirror: a pale, wretched looking figure with bags under her eyes, streaks on her face, her black hair in ratty spikes, and red marks all over her skin.
Then he lowered her into a steaming bath and her mind temporarily short-circuited as the hot, lavender-scented water washed the unpleasant sting of pain. After only a moment, the pleasant shock of the hot water faded and the scratches and aches reasserted themselves—but in a subdued, chastened way. Fortified by this reminder of her bad decision-making, she half-opened her eyes.
Arjuna, once again dressed in that magically pristine outfit (save for gloves), knelt beside the bath, watching her patiently.
"Why am I in a bath?" she asked, without lifting any more of herself than required from the hot water.
"Because I decided you should take one, Master," he said, so reasonably that she narrowed her eyes. Was this the same man who'd left bite marks all over the back of her thighs when he'd discovered how it made her pant and moan? She could still feel each little wound as she shifted her legs. They didn't feel nearly as transcendent now as when he'd delivered them. More along the lines of what was I thinking, really.
Then he put his hand in the water, stroking up her calf, and she stopped wondering if he'd been replaced by a doppelgänger. Definitely still the same man. She could feel it in the movement of his hand, and see it in the demon flashing through his eyes.
"I usually take showers," she informed him icily, and moved her calf away from his hand.
The demon smiled. "I've noticed." Then Arjuna added, "But now you're having a bath. I do hope the water is a pleasant temperature."
"It's fine," she snapped. "Fine. Go away and I'll take a bath."
In response, he leaned forward, his mouth brushing her temple. "You're still mine, Master. So I will wash you and tend to your marks."
Kaiya sank down into the water up to her nose, eyeing him in dislike.
His head still bent over hers, he said softly, "And if you drown yourself, I'll simply go to Yama's kingdom and bring you back again. You might find that distressing, so I suggest you refrain."
In response, she dunked herself under the water and rose up again. With her hair plastered to her scalp and those stupid spikes gone, she said with chilly dignity, "I would never drown myself. I fully intend on dying heroically for Ritsuka at some point."
Anger sparked in Arjuna's eyes, but all he said was, "What fantastical stories you tell yourself, Master." Then he found some soap and began to wash her, starting with her toes.
She tried hard to remain stiff and unfriendly. But the sensation of his fingers gliding across her soapy skin made it a challenge. He stroked away aches that could be massaged away and gently touched the bruises that would last. As he approached the bites he'd left on her thighs, he lingered over the marks, a half-smile on his face. Looking at his expression and feeling the light touch of his fingers on her sensitive skin, desire curled at her core again.
He moved up her thighs to between her legs, where his businesslike approach did nothing to quench her growing sexual heat. When he shifted to her stomach, she rubbed her thighs together, biting her lip and then scowling at how relaxed her legs felt. His hands encircled her waist and pulled her forward before sliding up over her breasts. She gasped as he repositioned himself without releasing her, so he soaped her breasts from behind. While he hadn't lingered down below, he took his time here, leaving Kaiya flushed and dizzy before he moved to washing her back and rubbing her shoulders and neck.
When she felt as limp and relaxed as a wet noodle, he let her lay back in the water again while he finger-combed her damp hair. Then he stood up and left the bathroom after first saying, "Remember what I said about drowning yourself."
After he left, she splashed the door and shouted, "I said I'd never do that!" before sinking back in the tub up to her nose, brooding. She didn't quite know what to do now. Though veiled by the boneless relaxation he'd induced with his strong fingers, a large part of her simmered with righteous wrath at Arjuna's completely unnecessary assumption of responsibility. She neither wanted nor deserved this attentive care. He'd promised her indiscreet tastes and twisted passions, dammit. Did that conjure up the image of lavender-scented baths? No it did not.
She ran her fingers over her thigh, feeling once again the sting of the bite marks there. On the other hand, trying to reconcile he who had left these marks with he who had washed her back was making her feel decidedly off-balance. She couldn't begin to predict what was going to happen next. After careful consideration, she decided to stay in the tub until some better option presented itself, like the water turning cold and nasty enough to fit her mood.
Are you really going to just sit there feeling sorry for yourself? asked another voice from her memory, and she flinched. She'd never known her father in person. For most of her childhood she'd never even known his name. All she'd known is that her mother valued his happiness over her daughter knowing him and never scrupled to hide that, saying, "He's living a peaceful life now. I won't have you disturbing that."
Eventually, once he'd died, her mother had opened up about him, at least enough to tell her his name and a few details. Kaiya had inherited her spiky hair from Kiritsugu Emiya, who had once been Maiya's mentor and lover. And once she'd learned his name, it had become irrevocably attached to the imaginary father in her head that she'd played with as a child. She'd told bedtime stories to herself about him and his obviously heroic exploits. She'd pretended to hold his hand each time she had to do something scary without her mother. And he'd lectured her every time she'd tried to run away in a fit of selfish teenage angst, serving as both her conscience and her ability to laugh at herself.
"You're not helpful right now," she said out loud. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself, anyhow."
Of course not. It's customary to plan to stay in the bath until your own sweat congeals on the water's surface. Come on, you invited this on yourself every step of the way. Stand up and face it like a man.
"Hah. See, I don't have to listen to you. You never even knew I existed, let alone what gender I am." She sloshed the water back and forth with a foot and tried to figure out what facing it like a man meant in this case. Not sulking over undeserved kindness was probably a good start. Maybe she could even take a stab at being properly grateful.
She practiced a few times. "Thank you. Thanks. You didn't have to. You really shouldn't have." All very generic sounding, and also utterly empty. What exactly was she being grateful for? Thank you for getting me off five separate times, mostly in ways that also hurt. I loved the way you made me howl. When you were cruel, I didn't completely hate myself.
No, she didn't even deserve that, did she? She'd latched onto that escape like she'd clung to a bottle in the past: feeling uncomfortable, guilty, and yet utterly unable to let go of that dangerous and undeserved comfort. And yet…
And yet, what she did or didn't deserve couldn't lessen the obligation owed for another's kindness. She'd been entirely unworthy of Dr. Roman's friendship, but she would still protect Ritsuka for him because she owed him at least that much. She ought to approach Arjuna the same way.
Then the bathroom door opened and he walked in, a towel over his arm and hot food smells engulfing him. As he looked at her, his smug demon's smile flashed across his handsome face. Instantly, Kaiya abandoned her plan to better appreciate him to snap, "What's so funny?"
"Time to get out of the bath, Master. Can you stand or shall I lift you?"
Glowering, Kaiya rose, her body's aches notably lessened. Arjuna held out a hand to help her step from the tub, which she accepted. But to her outrage, he followed this by toweling her hair, tucking the bath towel around her and picking her up anyhow.
She growled under her breath and started to resist before realizing that whatever his smile meant, he was once again aroused. The glitter in his eyes made her stop fighting instinctively, just so he'd press her against his body.
He carried her from the bathroom and deposited her in the chair at the table, in front of a new tray of food. As she adjusted the towel, annoyed at the return of the food motif, he began removing plate covers. Grilled cheese, soup, an apple and a paring knife, a glass of juice.
"Tamamo-cat prepared this meal especially for you," Arjuna said softly. "I told her you'd appreciate it."
With a wince, Kaiya asked, "What did she say?"
A slightly pained expression flickered across Arjuna's face. "She said woof, Master. And that I ought to take my new puppy for more walks so you got along with people better."
Kaiya relaxed and picked up the sandwich. "She's a sweetheart and I do appreciate her." She chewed and swallowed, keenly aware of Arjuna watching her, and tried to find that modicum of gratitude he probably deserved too. But every time she thought she'd grasped it, she'd meet his eyes and it would fade away in a flash of irritation. It would just be forced politeness right now, and it would probably annoy him as much as her.
Actually, when considered that way….
Nope. Nope. He'd just take it as encouragement.
"You've stopped eating, Master. Won't you try the soup?"
Glaring, Kaiya stuffed the rest of the sandwich in her mouth first. Then, as soon as she could do so coherently, she told him, "I hate you."
The demon smiled. "And yet unless you use those Command Seals, we're partners, my light. Let me cut your apple." He picked up the fruit and used his white knife rather than the one Tamamo-cat had provided to clean and slice the apple into paper-thin slices.
Kaiya watched him, drinking the soup, and when he put a plate full of fanned slices back on the tray, she ate one of them absently. The white knife vanished again, but it was the vanishing of skill and hidden sheaths, not magic. It was a blade he'd most likely always carried with him in his mortal life, and yet not one recorded in his history. Like his demon, it was a secret side of him.
When had she first seen it?
When the werewolves had attacked. One had died at her feet, its throat slashed by the white knife. Its blood had spattered her. How had it gotten so close. Had she been in that much danger?
No. Arjuna had been playing with the werewolves and with her then, just like he was playing with her now.
She ate more apple slices, staring at him, her brow furrowed. The question was, what kind of game was he playing?
"How do you feel, Master?" he inquired solicitously. "Have you had enough to eat?"
After another bite of apple, she considered and then said frankly, "Tired still." She couldn't be grateful to him, not when she didn't understand his games or agenda. But she now felt certain that she could trust him with her life, even within this framework he'd set around the two of them. She might be his toy, but she was a toy he intended on preserving.
The thought had frustrated her before. It would definitely frustrate her again. But here and now, when she was clean and full and pleasantly tired, where there were no enemies to fight or protect Ritsuka from, dying would be a waste of Roman's gift of friendship. She appreciated the thought that she'd be able to sleep safely.
Safely, but perhaps not peacefully.
The demon said, "Excellent. Time for sleeping," and pulled her from her chair. A moment later he'd settled onto the bed and pulled her against his still-clothed chest.
"You don't sleep," she protested even as her body nestled against his. "What are you doing?"
"Holding your naked body, Master," he said, once again in that infuriatingly reasonable tone. "Even as scrawny as you are, you're a pleasant armful."
She tried to kick his shin without lifting her head from his shoulder. "Go away. Get out. How do you expect me to sleep like this?"
"Shh," he said. "Close your eyes. I'll wake you in the morning." His fingers stroked down her naked spine in a way more enticing than relaxing. But the sensation made her close her eyes. Slowly, slowly her consciousness narrowed until all she was aware of was his heady, spicy scent and the rhythmic movement of his fingers.
And as sleep crept over her, as she relaxed utterly against Arjuna, the demon smiled once more.
Thank you very much for reading. OCs aren't everybody's cup of tea, but I felt like I couldn't properly explore Arjuna's character when he had to share Ritsuka with a bunch of other Servants (and plenty of people have done that already). I wanted to see how he interacted with somebody he didn't have to share, and thus Kaiya was born: as unlike Ritsuka as I could imagine.