January 29, 2014

Something Inside—Johnathan Rhys Meyers (4:03)

Pitch Black/Firefly

The Warrior and the Witch

Riddick

He heard and smelled her before he saw her. He knew he shouldn't recognize the voice. His ears had never heard it before. He knew her scent should have been strange to his nose. He'd never smelled that combination before. But they weren't. His heart knew them. The heart no one believed he had. He'd hidden it far too deeply for anyone to find.

His mind knew the sound of her voice intimately. When he slept he heard her. Every time. It was one of the reasons he wished the cryo drugs worked on him. He liked the dreams of her.

He knew every note of her unique scent. He knew the waves of joy that smelled of cinnamon and sugar. He knew the scent of grass after a rain meant contentment. And the scent of the ocean breeze that was simply her. Chemical for fear. Bleach for anger. He knew every single one nearly better than he knew his own.

Riddick ached to finally see her face. He'd dreamed of her since he was fourteen. Some of the dreams had been sweet and nice. Some had been silly and fantasy. Sometimes she had danced. But those dreams had been gone for nearly five years.

The dreams of five years ago had become terrifying and he knew they were hers. Knew she had sent them to him because she needed someone to know. Know what she knew. Know what she saw. And he'd taken them. Gladly. She shouldn't have had to suffer and yet she did. And he would take her dreams turned nightmares so that she could survive the torture.

The dreams had changed again almost two years ago. They had become strange again and yet when he woke he knew what they meant. She was safe. Of a sort. Someone close to her had retrieved her and saved her from the torture. But not before the damage was done. She would never be the ni zi that had danced across the stars again. He mourned the loss of the child even as he welcomed the becoming of the woman.

And then they became the dreams of a more normal sort. A little over nine months ago the dreams had changed for a final time. Now they spoke of stars and journeys. A mind that had broken and been glued painstakingly back together. And she was searching for him. She knew that he was out there somewhere and he could feel her determination to find him.

So many times they had been so close to each other. Only to have the other leave or disappear in a crowd before they could be spotted.

Now she was here. Here on this Hell planet. That irritated him. He didn't want her to be here. He would have preferred her to be safely away on her boat with the family she'd told him of.

The thought was greeted with a sound of displeasure from in front of his blindfolded eyes. "The girl could leave her warrior blind if he wishes," her voice was sharp with disapproval and it filled the air with spicy peppers. "She has come for him and he wishes she hadn't."

Riddick grunted behind the gag Johns had shoved into his mouth. If she left the blindfold on and the gag in he'd make her pay.

"The girl thinks she would not mind a sore pigu if he gave it to her." He heard her sigh. "But now is not the time or place, my warrior so it will have to wait until we are home again." She pulled the gag from between his lips. "Close your eyes, Warrior King. I have goggles to protect them."

Riddick obligingly closed his eyes behind the blindfold as his tongue darted out to lick dry lips. "Got anything to drink, Witch Queen?" Soft fingertips gently removed the blindfold and pulled the dark goggles over his eyes.

"She does," her soft voice confirmed. "She will give him a drink in a moment. Open your eyes, my king. It is safe enough for now."

Unable to take the delay in seeing her he blinked them open and stared straight into hers. "Hello, my queen," he whispered. "What took you so long?"