...
Caprice
Chapter XVI
The shallow breathing Trafalgar subjected himself to in an effort to ward off the pain culminated in him heaving a great breath to fill his starved lungs. He took in the full scent of the lord and his alluring smell, his limbs relaxing as he became intoxicated. The pain receded. His appetite won out and he turned his face toward the smell of unbroken skin.
He wiled himself not to bite and indulge, and managed to keep himself locked in a stalemate of differing internal desires. He wanted to treat himself to this man's life juice but his pride would not allow him to stoop so bloody low.
One of the lord's hands glided over his bare back, tracing the indent of his spine with claw-tipped fingers. He became conscious of his nakedness as a staggering disadvantage but did not squirm as he might have had this man been any one else. Instead, he arched his back and began to move his hands, finding the bare, muscled chest of the lord who wore only his charcoal trousers. He felt the man's erection pressing against his bare buttocks and closed his eyes. This gentle touch he was being treated with was not kindness.
"You get pleasure when I bite you. When I pump you full of my serum."
"Yes," the lord answered, hissing into his ear. "What is the problem with that? You enjoy what makes up my internal being, and I enjoy your external body. I see no problem."
"I won't bite you," Trafalgar said, and even as the words left his mouth he knew it was likely to be a lie. He could hold off for only so long suppressing his lungs from what they needed most. Then it would be over. He would take in air and give into temptation, and he would once again be used by an overzealous cambion with a libido so sky high it was impossible to see it through the clouds above. His body would break. With his luck he would even throw up the delicious blood that the lord so insisted he fill his belly with.
"You've been unconscious for hours. Eat," the lord insisted, drawing him closer. The breath he'd been holding was forced out and he drew in a fresh one, his senses flooded with lust. His eyesight weakened and he knew it would be soon that he'd be reduced to a panting dog, and then to what he really was at heart: a bloodsucker. A tick. A leech.
"Eat."
"Put me down."
"Eat. I don't want you passing out for this long again."
"No. Fuck you, you high and fucking mighty brute. You do not have lordship over me."
He could feel Eustass' muscles ripple against his bare skin. He was certainly incensed.
Suddenly, Trafalgar cried out as Eustass grasped his limp member, which had been lying between them directly on top of the lord's growing erection held back only by his slacks. He fisted it and began stroking him, and Trafalgar grit his teeth as he felt his body responding in two ways. Pain and pleasure, with the latter far outweighing the former. No! This was not supposed to be pleasurable! This was brutal and animalistic!
"Don't touch me," the doctor snarled. He clawed at the lord's front, scratching and trying to push himself away from the man all at once.
"I can touch you all I bloody well want," Lord Eustass growled back, his anger revealing itself in the way his pupils contracted. They rolled in on themselves, the whites of his eyes swallowing the darkness up. "Because you're mine now."
Trafalgar made a sharp move forward in an effort to butt the lord in the face, but he was too sluggish. He found himself on his back, his legs splayed on either side of the man who held him by his ankles. His legs were jerked forcefully apart and he seethed silently at being exposed for the lord's viewing pleasure.
"Perhaps I need to fuck you into submission."
Dr. Trafalgar glared and forced a wry smile onto his face. "Fine, kill me then."
He saw something give in Lord Eustass' eyes that matched the shake he felt in the lord's hands as he loosened his grip on his ankles. Ah. How perfect.
"If you fuck me now, I'll probably succumb to my internal wounds," he bluffed, trying his hardest not to break out into a grin. Instead he concentrated on Lord Eustass' facial muscles, how they tightened and how his jaw locked into place. He was still naïve to what Trafalgar's body could and could not take. The bit of time he'd spent unconscious had scared him more than his outward appearance let on. "So why don't you kill me?"
He needs me, the doctor thought with silent satisfaction. He was right. The signs were there in the invitation the lord extended. He needs me and he knows it. Looks like he inherited what Ace calls the 'bonding effect' from his mother. Hah. The idiot has bonded with me. He has none of the power, and I have all of it. So long as I don't love the bastard, he's going to be forever trapped.
His ankles were yanked and he was lifted once more into the lord's lap, only this time there was a marked softness in comparison to the roughness of his previous visit. His legs went on either side of the man's lap, bent at the knee and tucked under. With this leverage they were eye level, and Trafalgar gave the lord a vehement sneer made all the more intense by the aching pain he was feeling in certain areas of his body.
"I want you to eat," Lord Eustass whispered softly. The threat was there in his tone, but Trafalgar now knew the lord could do nothing of import. Slap him around rather gently, maybe, but fuck him into unconsciousness? Not when it was so clear he was not in the best of shape from their previous tussle in the field.
The doctor regarded him coldly, even as Lord Eustass' breath heated his face. He raised a hand between them and Trafalgar furrowed his brow when the lord inserted a finger into his mouth and then removed it dripping with saliva. Then, without much to indicate his intention, the lord dipped his chin and kissed him. Trafalgar made to escape, unable to do so as the lord's drier fingers fisting his hair held his head securely in place.
He groaned loudly when the man pulled him closer, flushing their bodies so they were cheek by jowl. Skin to skin, he felt Lord Eustass' other hand, the one not keeping his head still, slide down his lower back. Fingers delved between the crevice of his buttocks and he felt the wet digit from before probe him. Then it was inside him, stroking him, curling upwards and then towards his stomach. Massaging his marble-shaped nub of nerves, a place inside him that he'd never let anyone else discover before.
Lord Eustass pillaged the area and seized the treasure he'd found.
He slackened against the lord and his lips parted in a soundless cry. He felt himself penetrated by a probing tongue, one that danced around his fangs and skimmed the sides of his cheeks. The finger massaging that nub prodded him suddenly and he groaned again, and this time he knew the lord felt his gratification as the lips on him twitched upwards into a hedonistic grin.
He expected to be thrown down on the bed upon his stomach and taken from behind, but that neither happened immediately nor at length. He felt the finger depart and a larger digit return, the tiniest addition in length and width assuring him that he was feeling the lord's middle finger caressing his interior now. This finger seemed just the right length and almost seemed sentient in the way it knew where to touch and just how much force to exert.
Bloody cambions and their sexual prowess.
Law's heart rate sped up and his body tensed so hard that his limbs locked in place. It was too much, too intense. He was quickly moved past the point of hardened tension and his entire body began to tremble, and between the lord's chest and his uncontrollable shaking his member was rubbed. It oozed and convulsed, and he felt himself wetting the slacks of the lord as well as their stomachs.
His cheek lay cradled by the lord's shoulder as he was worked over, and he managed to raise a hand to his mouth. Now more than ever he wanted to suck the lord dry, but he wouldn't give Lord Eustass that pleasure with such docile obedience, and so stuck his thumb into the corner of his mouth behind his fangs. He locked his jaw in place and closed his eyes to block out the sight of unblemished, perfectly pale skin before him.
He felt Lord Eustass' thumb press against an external part of him that was innately connected to the one being ravaged. A whimper escaped his throat.
Erratic yellow lines of colour flashed beneath his eyelids as he squeezed them harder. When next he found the strength to open them dark red lips were kissing his brow and he could see a thin sheen of sweat coating the lord's throat.
It looked delicious.
His jaw flexed impulsively as he longed to grab hold of that skin and utterly defile it, mark the lord's pale skin so viciously that it would turn black within minutes.
Dr. Trafalgar bit down on his thumb. No. He would not give in without taking extensive measures. He was not so easily possessed. Yet the tongue with the inherent skill of an incubus grazed his neck, licking along his muscles and making them twitch. All while the finger circled his insides endlessly, making his back arch and tense.
He never felt it approaching. The orgasm was upon him with relentless force, throwing his body into spasms that made all of the hair on his body stand on end. He slumped and heard a voice gently teasing his ear.
"I enjoyed having you squirm like that," the lord whispered, his voice awe-filled and sensuous. "I'm so…satisfied. I can feel what you're feeling. Your body…it's mine."
He was lethal. He was lethal and they were now bonded. Their bodies were responding to one another, and Trafalgar knew that the succubi bloodline ran deeper than he thought possible. Trafalgar did not want to think about the depth of the lord's feelings for him, built with fervour on a foundation of capricious lust.
-oOo-
Lord Eustass left the spent creature on the bed, splayed out so he could see every naked inch of him. His knees and legs wobbled, and some indwelling part of him ascertained that it was the intensity of the orgasm he'd artfully administered that had weakened the vampire so. He loved the afterglow. It was almost as if his skin shimmered and his senses had been heightened. Even from several feet away he could smell the doctor's sweat and the product of his fulfillment, and that made his insides shudder in a way that was undeniably pleasurable. He had never felt this way, not even after bedding half a dozen whores in one visit to the local brothel. He came to the realization that he'd never known true satisfaction until he'd met Trafalgar.
He flexed his fingers at his side, they that had to power to undo the creature on the bed panting and still writhing before him. His eyes devoured the sight of cloudy whitish-grey that has seeped from Trafalgar and coagulated before gradually liquefying and running down his chest. It was so different from the product of his own orgasm that it awed him, yet it was so similar that he didn't feel as though Trafalgar was all that different a being.
He walked around the side of the bed and examined the body from another angle, taking in the strange tribal markings that had only vaguely interested him before. Trafalgar's pupils followed him under hooded lids and the whites of his eyes were still dull, not nearly as bright as they were when the man had tricked and manipulated him. Truthfully, he didn't like Trafalgar's eyes as they were now. Tense, worried, and above all disgusted with him.
"How do you feel?" Lord Eustass asked coyly. "Did your Master make you feel good?"
He could see faint furrows appearing on Trafalgar's brow.
"I am Master of myself, and you have no foothold to climb up to that throne," the doctor hissed quietly. Even his voice was considerably weakened. The lord frowned but did not comment. "If anything, I am Master to you."
The lord's lips peeled back and he bared his teeth. "My fingers twitch for a horse flogger," he growled.
Trafalgar regarded him with all the coolness of a cat safely situated high above a pack of howling dogs. "Kill me then. I'm dying already."
A sudden sharp pain winded Lord Eustass as his mind instinctively contemplated this.
He stormed from the room and locked the door behind him. He stood on the other side of the wood, breathing hard. The muscles in his shoulders contracted with every exhale his lungs forced from him and he could barely restrain himself from barging back into the room and slicing the bastard open with his fingernails.
Even the thought of hurting Trafalgar wounded him in some way. He groaned and slumped to the ground. It hurt his chest and his groin all at once. His head buzzed. He didn't understand what this was about. Then he remembered Killer's words.
Bonded pairs. That was right. Killer had told him about the dangers of that term, and what it meant for the succubi and incubi who carried that burden. They were slaves to their partners, aiming to please them in order to feel pleased themselves.
The idea sickened him and he rejected it immediately. He was no incubus; he was a half-breed. A mutt. There was no evidence to confirm that he possessed that characteristic of his parentage. He was not bonded to Dr. Trafalgar, the vampire that had made a fool out of him. After using him thoroughly he wanted to murder the man, butcher him; not make love to him again and again.
Another sharp pain punctured his body and he gasped for breath, doubling over in agony.
The pain persisted until his mind blanked, and then it stopped as abruptly as it had come on, with Lord Eustass curled on the stone floor. He gathered himself together and rose, paying particular attention to the wall opposite the door where he'd been struck down by his treasonous body.
He didn't think as he moved through the manor, past all the destruction that his home had suffered on his rampages throughout it. He remembered a time when the walls were pristine, not riddled with holes from his fist or the heel of his foot. The furniture, too, had seen better days. With no maid to keep the dust from gathering on every flat surface and no one to darner the rips in the cushions everything had receded into a state of decadence and degeneracy. Killer had long since given up trying to repair damages this excessive and instead had put most of his effort into calming his lord when he could.
The sight disgusted him, as it mirrored the way he felt when he had collapsed on the stone floor. His manor was suffering by his hand, and so was he.
He stomped his way to the nearest drawing room and sunk into a chaise longue. There he crossed his arms and held his elbows in place to contemplate this odd turn his desires had taken.
Trafalgar. The name confused him. He felt a strange stirring in his body and mind when he muttered it under his breath. His body ached for attention while his mind was muddled with feelings of both anger and joy.
It was impossible to remain seated. He leapt to his feet and landed on the stone floor with such a jarring that his mind cleared once more. Then he headed down grand oak stairs to the main level of his home, taking in the disarray that pervaded there too.
He paused on his way to the pantry at the far end of the house. He could hear something, some odd snuffling and groaning behind him. His first thought was that Killer had returned to him, and he smirked at the timing of such a return as he was famished and in need of a chef. Then his face fell as he heard a sharp smashing of glass and a deep-throated bellow.
His guns were in the direction of the offending sound and he started for them at a brisk walk. His walk turned into a jog as he heard something creak and break, the sound of wood splintering. When he rounded a corner into one of his larger and more elaborately furnished rooms, the one that housed his oak stairs, he froze.
On the far side of the room was a jagged hole in his wall which once held a stained glass window. The glass was shattered on the marble floor and reflecting a multitude of colours in the morning sun, colours that drew abstract patterns on his walls and ceiling. Then there were the broken remains of a sofa that had been almost under the hole in the wall, the cushions torn into strips and the frame snapped into fragments as if something heavy had landed upon it and scrambled to get loose.
He scanned the room. He could hear it, whatever it was, still present. The snuffling and grunting was coming from the far side, from behind the staircase that rose out of the middle of the floor and connected the upstairs with the main level. Beside the staircase was a cabinet, and inside he had several hunting rifles that would serve him well.
He grit his teeth and began to creep towards his cabinet.
He was nearly to the stairs when a loud roar deafened him and caused him to stagger. From behind the staircase came a massive fanged beast with cold black eyes. Eyes that fixed on him and informed him in the most animal way that he was about to meet his end impaled by teeth and claws.
The giant bear's white pelt rippled, giving it the impression of wispy clouds being blown about on a windy day. Lord Eustass watched, mesmerized, as the beast rose up on its hind legs and extended its thick neck. Its large black nose sniffed indignantly at him, and its stomach rumbled with a low growl.
Its maw parted and Lord Eustass flinched when it roared at him.
He turned to run as the bear began to charge, his eyes scanning the room for something he could use as a weapon. His eyes were drawn to the damaged sofa and the splintered fragments of wood. He made a dash for it.
The bear was almost upon his back, smashing various pieces of furniture out of its way with its claws, and Lord Eustass raised the first piece of wood he could get his hands on. Then he swung wildly behind him, but rather than connecting with anything, the bear pulled up and regarded him in anger. He held the long, solid piece of wood out to the side, more than ready to strike out with it should the bear continue its assault.
The bear eyed him with morbid amusement, and Lord Eustass realized that this white behemoth was mocking him by not attacking outright.
His rage overwhelmed his judgement, and Lord Eustass swung the wood wide, aiming for the bear's thick head. He saw the surprise in the way the bear's ears suddenly flattened, but its instinct to open its mouth proved to be the lord's downfall. His eyes widened as his makeshift weapon was caught in a powerful jaw, between a set of elongated canines. For a moment, it seemed they were caught in a stalemate, but then the bear tossed its head to the side and his body was pulled forward and off balance, leaving him wide open for a massive clawed paw to make an impact.
The claws tore through his clothes and his skin, but he wouldn't let go of the wood, as that would open up the bear's teeth to be used as a weapon as well. And Lord Eustass did not fancy getting eaten by a giant bear in his own home.
Blood was pouring down his side and staining his slacks where the bear had raked him. Rather than try to pull the wood away from its maw, Lord Eustass pushed towards it with all his strength, shoving it back a few paces. The bear's paws were then deployed to keep it steady, and the lord continued to shove forwards, hoping that breaking point would come and he'd regain his weapon.
It seemed the bear would topple over, but before that could happen Lord Eustass found the bear wrenching the wood from his grip with a powerful snap of its neck. He watched it go sailing through the air only to smash yet another one of his windows.
He quickly glanced back at the bear to see what was clearly triumph in its furred face.
Then he glanced behind him at the ruined sofa to see that there really wasn't much else he could use to defend himself, save for a cushion. He doubted the cushion would really help, however. It might cause momentary confusion, but that would be about the extent of it.
The bear began to slink towards him and he started his retreat slowly, very close to running and trying his luck getting upstairs. He had thick doors and locks on all the bedchambers upstairs, and right now they seemed the best option if he wanted to survive another day.
"Bepo!"
Both Lord Eustass and the bear froze. The bear's ears came forward and it looked up at the top of the staircase Lord Eustass was trying vehemently to get to.
"Bepo, come!"
Lord Eustass dared to look behind him at the staircase. It was a mistake, but not a fatal one, as the bear slammed its great fluffy head into his other side and sent him soaring. He landed in a heap several feet from the stairs on his bad side, causing him to experience a blinding flash of pain that nearly caused him to faint.
When he recovered from the hit, the blackness receding, he stared after the bear hurling itself up the steps, occasionally crashing into his banisters and knocking a few of the ornately styled wood pieces out from between the rail and the stairs themselves. His eyes followed the trajectory of the bear to see Dr. Trafalgar on the landing, his arms thrown over the railing to steady himself. He was wearing some of Lord Eustass' clothes, but how he had gone from one room to the other to retrieve them baffled the lord.
He had locked the vampire in, he was sure of it. Yet here was Trafalgar, looking sickly and weak but still holding his head up proudly. Wearing one of Lord Eustass' coats over a tweed vest and white collared shirt with a pair of slacks that hung off his thin frame, billowing like a curtain whenever he so much as swayed to the side.
The bear reached the top of the staircase and his great furred head was nuzzled against the chest of the doctor. Lord Eustass felt himself grow rather pale; Trafalgar had a manic bear at his disposal. His eyes widened when he saw Trafalgar swing up onto the back of the bear, cringe, and grab the monster's scruff.
The pair turned around, and Lord Eustass noted the extreme fury in the bear's eyes and the passive arrogance and muted satisfaction in Trafalgar's. He struggled to rise to his feet, checking up on his side to see the blood clotting. The bear had really taken a chunk out of him. He wouldn't be able to move fast enough in the direction of his gun cabinet now. He was at the mercy of the bear and its Master.
"I see Bepo hath smacked you around for me," Trafalgar said, his voice even and not giving away his true opinion of the scene. The bear growled almost gleefully, and the lord began to think Bepo was something of an overprotective pet. He certainly did go straight to Trafalgar when called like some obedient dog.
Lord Eustass refused to answer when he was already clearly at a vast disadvantage, and did not flinch when Bepo struck out at the banisters as the pair descended. The wood flew every which way, crashing into the marble floor and other pieces of furniture not assaulted previously.
"I am slave to no one, least of all the likes of you, Lord Eustass," Trafalgar said next, spitting his name out like it was poisonous. The lord felt a lump in his throat as the bear raised its head ever higher, gazing at him with newfound anger. Like it knew exactly what Trafalgar was saying, like it knew exactly what he'd done to its Master. It was beyond unnerving.
"Bepo, it is time to leave."
The bear snorted haughtily at Lord Eustass, standing there all bloody and confused, and lumbered off down the room. Trafalgar was its guide, and he had merely to tap his heels against the bear's sides to get it to change course. The clicking of claws on marble floor faded as they made their obscenely graceful exit. Not once did Trafalgar looked back, and the lord's fury grew as he realized Trafalgar didn't see him as a threat at all.
Lord Eustass heard the front door of the manor creak open and he wandered over to the windows on the far side of the room, half in a daze that he had his life spared. There he witnessed the white blur of a gangly horse galloping away from sight.
Dr. Trafalgar had once again escaped from his clutches, and rather fashionably at that.
-oOo-
With the aching pain in his limbs Trafalgar did not get very far galloping. He was simply grateful that Bepo had already gathered up the things he'd dropped after the 'unfortunate encounter,' as he'd aptly titled the event. Now they were ambling along through the back roads of Sabaody, heading into one of the more inhabited pockets of town.
For all the events he'd suffered through Trafalgar was starving. His appetite leaned towards something that was not stale, but fresh.
"Take me down the street, Bepo."
His presence in this particular quarter sent many out of their homes, and a few invited him in. He got his fix eventually, though he felt like a scoundrel knowing that Lord Eustass offered his blood freely and without consequence to his body while the unknowing citizens of Sabaody were to die for making the mistake of letting him past their thresholds.
It was a strange feeling that he'd not had before today, and vaguely he surmised that the cambion's abuse of him was at least half to blame for how he felt. Never had he been so unable to control himself, and the feeling of being unable to protect his body from the physical desires of Lord Eustass…he found he could better identify with the humans he took advantage of.
They were headed for home when Bepo finally asked the question Trafalgar was dreading to have to face. "Why couldn't I kill him? He was right there…I could have at least crushed his face with my paw."
"Hmm, you know, that could greatly improve the bastard's appearance," Trafalgar said jokingly. "However, I don't want him so easily killed because he is worth more to me alive than dead. He's a rare species, Bepo. Think of what can be done…"
No, Trafalgar thought, It is because if you killed him, Bepo, there's a very real chance I might die, too.
"Is that really the reason?"
Dr. Trafalgar snorted. Bepo had known him for years, and thus he knew when his Master was swindling him. "I have a feeling that one day he shall come in handy for an experiment or two, and then all will have been worth it."
"Even being mounted by him? His scent is all over you. You should at least get new clothes; the ones that are his reek and my sensitive nose cannot stand it."
He kicked Bepo lightly in the side, a kind of playful tap to tell him he was venturing into dangerous waters. He did not wish to tell Bepo about his latest discovery, that Lord Eustass was likely bonded to him in a way that Bepo wouldn't wholly understand. "He'll come off second best if he continues to think he can dominate me. I've had him bound and helpless before, Bepo. He cannot outwit me, though I'll admit his intelligence is greater than first assumed. The only boundary I must deal with is getting into his manor, and that is part of the reason why I'm quite pleased that I went with my instinct to keep Eustass' boggart alive. He will be a free pass, I'm sure, and will dutifully let me over Eustass' threshold at any time."
He noticed Bepo's gait change, a slight nuance to his usual lope. He could feel the tensing of Bepo's muscles beneath his thighs. It was more than enough to signal to him that Bepo was keeping important information from his ears. "Bepo? Is there a problem with my plotting that I should be made aware of?"
"The boggart, well, he sort of disappeared. We don't know where he went…Penguin flew by when I was looking for you and told me. He's out searching for him."
Trafalgar grit his teeth to try and dispel some of his anger; he really couldn't trust Shachi to keep hold of the household while he was absent. What had he been thinking? To this day he didn't have any servants that fit the requirements for housesitting. Bepo was a trusty guard bear, but he could seldom make decisions on his own; he relied too much on the guidance of his Master. Penguin had supreme understanding of the world and could make decisions easily enough, but his strength was not equal to that of the average naïve shapeshifter. Shachi…was loyal but scatterbrained and now Trafalgar knew he was easily outdone and fooled.
"Will he return to Lord Eustass?" Trafalgar asked. Bepo grumbled something, his fangs distorting his words. "I should think he would, as he has stated that Eustass is his Master. Pity, for this would have made plotting how to best utilize the fool quite simple."
Trafalgar would have complained more about this loss of potential, but he could hear a steady clopping on the cobblestones around the bend. There had to be at least four horses, likely pulling a carriage. That, or it was a very smart division of officers coming through. If so, they wouldn't even glance in his general direction, as he simply looked like a farmer out on his plough horse, his clothes ill fitting and his body in need of a good scrub in a washtub.
As it was, his luck was quite poor as of late, and the one he was fated to cross paths with was none other than Duchess Jewelry.
Four pristinely muscled bays were hitched to her black carriage emblazoned with swirls of gold, silver and green. All but one of the horses started to immediately veer to the left, as far away from Bepo as they could pull. The driver of the carriage pulled to the right as viciously as his leverage allowed, and Trafalgar could see that the front horses were having their tender mouths abused.
"Take an easy on those animals or you'll put the duchess in the ditch! Bring them to a halt, fool!" Trafalgar cried. He wasn't really sure what possessed him to shout advice at the driver, but he figured it was the way Bepo was cringing. Bepo had on one occasion had a metal bit in his mouth, and that occasion was the last as it had ended in pain for him.
He knew it would have been wiser to just gallop by and hope the horses recovered before the carriage overturned, but he'd caught the duchess' eye through the glass window and it was impossible to deny seeing her. As soon as the horses stopped moving the door swung open and a hand with a long, dainty handkerchief beckoned Trafalgar to the side of the carriage.
He dismounted from Bepo's back and quietly told Bepo to stalk off, half for Bepo's benefit, as he would not have to smell temptation, and half for the horses' sanity.
He could see the duchess in all her glory sitting higher up than he stood, and he leaned casually against the black paint of the open door to take her in. She was wearing a long pinkish dress with green embroidery as well as her favourite hat; one that she claimed functioned perfectly well as a sunhat though it had no visible brim.
"You are looking decidedly mangy today, Dr. Trafalgar." The duchess pursed her lips, not trying to hide her smugness.
"How observant of you, Duchess. I have not been conscious of my dreadful appearance at all. Thank you for graciously pointing it out to me." Trafalgar very deliberately straightened the tweed vest he'd stolen from Lord Eustass. It was missing more than one button and hung awkwardly from his slimmer frame. "There, now I look splendid."
"Splendid enough to shovel horse manure, yes," the duchess replied. She had a lady in waiting with her, and Trafalgar looked suggestively at this woman, feigning interest with a cocked head and an unblinking stare. Even in his rather unwashed state he was pleased to note he could still make this noblewoman blush. He gave the lady a slow, sultry smile and a once over, taking her in from boot to sunhat.
The duchess was not pleased with his ogling of her company. She threw her handkerchief in his face.
He peeled it off and pretended to be shocked by its appearance. "I do believe you dropped this, Duchess," he said coyly.
"Wipe your dirty face!" she barked. "You are a most disgusting mongrel, Trafalgar!"
He gaped at her, but of course he was not at all shocked like the noblewoman sitting across from the duchess was, her pale, oval-shaped face matching the current form of her mouth. He was suddenly finding it incredibly amusing to act silly in front of the two women. One despised him openly; the other simply couldn't believe how rude the duchess was being to him.
He attributed his playful mood to his escape from the Eustass estate and a good bloodletting he'd preformed on an ailing man in town, though the blood was nothing worth celebrating. Still, it was a decent enough combination for civil conversation with Duchess Jewelry.
"Now, now, Duchess, if I wipe my face with this it'll be soiled and I won't be able to give it back to you without a wash…and you know how I hate to do the washing. After all, I do not support shopping at Mariejois."
The duchess' hands tightened into fists and he thought she might lean forward and smack him on the cheek or, worse, kick the center of his face in with her heeled boot. Yet she did no such thing and Trafalgar knew it was because she was trying to save face in front of her company. Had it been her alone he would not have baited her to begin with, as he knew she was one to resort to quick acts of violence.
He had been slapped by her, once.
With recollections of that one time he had taken a stab at her appetite and weight, Trafalgar made to hand the handkerchief back. The duchess accepted it only to throw it on the ground outside.
Trafalgar ignored this rudeness and decided he would at least inquire about what brought the duchess out of her home. "If I may be so bold as to ask what has warranted this drive through the heart of Sabaody, Duchess?"
She sniffed at him, this lowly creature so far beneath her in both the physical and metaphorical sense. "Does a woman need a reason to go out with a friend?"
The noblewoman on the other side of the duchess looked positively beside herself with excitement at being referred to as a friend. Trafalgar guessed she was either a countess or a baroness, somewhat below the duchess in rank and eager to get elevated in status by being in her company.
He pushed thoughts of the woman he'd played with out of his mind and decided he would be upfront and cruel. "Are you off to visit Lord Portgas to annoy him with your incessant pleas for marriage?"
Her mouth drew into a thin line at the affront while the woman across from her looked about ready to faint out of shock.
"It was not in my grand plan," she replied icily. Duchess Jewelry leaned forward in her seat, her corset stiff and pushing her breasts up so more than was necessary peeked out of her top. "I will not be seeing Lord Portgas today, however this impression you have that I annoy the man is simply your jealousy showing through; he quite likes spending time with me and not with you. Whether there is marriage in the future or not is none of your business Trafalgar, and you ought to know that I beg for nothing."
Trafalgar smirked and took a step back from the carriage door. "Well, in that case I ought to be on my way. A man of medicine cannot dwell too long in one place."
"Oh, are you by chance seeing to Lord Eustass' grandson?" the woman asked, a sort of wry smile upon her face.
Trafalgar felt his smile slip, but only by a fraction. "The senior Lord Eustass met an unfortunate end and as such no longer requires my patronage. However, his son I do continue to see. What is it that you know about the new lord?"
The duchess shrugged, looking smug. "Oh, this and that. You know."
Trafalgar forced his face to remain frozen, but he felt the blood draining away. She knows, he thought. Well, this should not be surprising…her sort has a knack for always keeping track of who is a noble and who is a demon…and who is coincidentally both.
Still, to know that the duchess was already aware of a cambion in the midst of Sabaody was very disconcerting. Surely she had plans for the lord, for she was not someone to let sleeping dogs lie. He thought it best to change the subject and make quick his escape. "If you'll be seeing Lord Portgas soon, give him my best for I haven't been to see him in quite some time."
"I'll be seeing him soon," Duchess Jewelry said slowly, blinking at him and betraying none of her abundant emotions on her face. "I will make sure to give him your best…though I cannot say I approve of your best if it is rags and a thick dusting of dirt on your face."
Trafalgar nodded with amusement and made his departure, closing the carriage door on the women. He stepped back and gave a small bow, feeling as though he ought to somehow congratulate the duchess for knowing all along what it was that lived to the south of Sabaody, locked up in a ruined manor.
He certainly felt the fool.
The horses ferried the carriage out of sight and Bepo trotted up to him, snuffling his hair with all the affection of a shapeshifter neglected and forced to wait around.
"You should not be tempting a witch, Master."
He patted Bepo on the neck and then scratched behind his rounded white ears. "Oh Bepo, do not worry so much. She is all repartee and no spells, as she has always been. Besides, you forget that I have my demon blade always with me, even now." Trafalgar let a slow grin encompass his face. "Works against bitches and witches. Luckily she's both."
Bepo laughed almost to the point of morphing into a bear, his hackles raised and electrified by his Master's sense of humour.
Trafalgar smiled grimly, his mind cloudy, and swung up onto Bepo's back to direct the bear home.
[Note: originally (we're talking fourteenth century here) bitch was used to insult a woman with a high sex drive, much like a dog in heat. Now consider the fact that the duchess is quite attracted to Lord Portgas…oh burn. Trafalgar you dog you.]
