Fate's Games
(A/N: Warning! Controvertial subject matter, so let me promise you right now that nothing happens. I can't picture him doing anything no matter how he felt.)
Unchild
He hadn't had a clue. He hadn't had an idea about her intentions. He was oblivious, blind, foolish; but not anymore. Not anymore… So often she would slip onto his lap as the dark family dined together, laughing and exchanging stories. She was doing it to get under his skin, as far as he was concerned. At first she'd been getting a reaction from him; usually him ordering her off or complaining about annoying she devils. Sometimes he would actually physically remove her. Soon enough he'd discovered that she wanted a rise out of him. He'd retaliated accordingly and stopped, beginning to simply ignore it.
So often she would play with his beard or headdress. Playfully she would giggle and place a kiss on his cheek or forehead saying he was a great source of amusement for her; saying how she loved to make him squirm. Again, that would end in a barrage of complaints. The sweet little kisses she dropped so casually and leisurely upon his lips were nothing. Just a little un-child determined to drive him to the end of his rope; and succeeding.
"You know, for a three hundred year old woman you certainly like to act like a child," he bit coldly as she leapt up onto his back as he was cooking.
"Oh Nazir, what fun is it to be eternally in a child's form if you can't act like one once in a while?" she questioned innocently.
"Get off my back Babette!" he ordered. She laughed and kissed his neck then dropped off. Annoyed, he'd wiped the kiss off as she walked away giggling. He was glad she hadn't decided to bite.
ES
She loved to humiliate him, manipulate him, play her little mind games with him. "You know, I could really go for a boiled crème treat right now," she cooed to him while they sat in an inn after a contract he'd completed; and that she'd begged to go along with.
"You can forget it," he replied.
"Don't make this difficult, Nazir. I have quite the ear splitting shriek," she threatened.
Eyes narrowing he shot, "You wouldn't dare!"
"Help, help me! Pervert, kidnapper, monster, help!" she shrieked immediately.
He went white, nearly panicking. "Okay, okay, just stop screaming wench!" he pled as all eyes went to them and he prepared to fight his way out of the town. Oh if he was attacked and chased out she would pay dearly.
She fell silent, giggling. "Is that how you want me to scream if anyone tries to hurt me?" she innocently asked, loud enough for the inn to hear. Immediately everyone relaxed, assuming he was just telling her about the dangers of the land.
"Yes," he'd grumbled icily, rising to buy her the treat.
ES
He'd cursed himself so often for falling into her traps so easily. But he was fast realizing that there was one mind game she was playing that she hadn't been able to win. "Nazir…" she called to him as he was lying in bed, voice sounding quiet. Quiet? Since when?
He'd sat up with a groan and looked curiously at the door. "Oh no," he muttered on seeing her. "Babette, what now?" he demanded. "Do you want me to buy you a honey nut treat this time?" he sarcastically added.
"Not exactly," she replied, crossing the room and climbing onto his bed. She lay down next to him and said, "I can't sleep."
"Oh for the love of… get out," Nazir ordered.
"Nazir, don't you want the company?" she cooed to him as she gazed down into his eyes smirking. Lightly she toyed with his beard.
"Of a woman, yes, of a child, no," Nazir replied, annoyed.
"A child?" she asked vaguely, but there was a hint of coldness.
"Look in a mirror lately? Oh wait, you can't," Nazir said. Babette frowned at him and pulled a little harder than necessary, making him wince.
"A child," she repeated, and this time her eyes were narrowed dangerously.
He frowned at her and replied with a sneer, "Not even eleven. A little girl."
ES
It had been the moment the turning point came. It had been the moment that his eyes were opened to a truth that he had never fully understood. "I am no child!" she screamed furiously at him, eyes lighting viciously up as she bore her fangs.
For a moment he was terrified as he looked into this unchild's eyes. Her eyes. There was reflected in them no innocent gaze, no gentle look. The eyes were not a child's eyes. Finally he replied, "What?"
"I am not a child, Nazir. I am a woman. A woman!" she yelled.
She was breathing heavily, angrily, as they watched each other. He was lost, but not for long. All at once the weight and truth to those words hit him like a ton of bricks. "Babette…" he finally managed to say, but where could he go from there? There was no apology to be given, there had been no insult and he saw that fact stated plainly in her expression.
"I am a woman. I speak and act like a woman. I am not naïve, I am not helpless, I do not see the world as a child sees it. I do not have the fears of a child. I feel like a woman. I have the desires of a woman, not a child."
Desires? Then the answer came to him, stealing away his breath. He grew pale. He knew. He knew exactly what desires meant. "Babby… Babby, please, don't… Don't…" He had wanted to say more, to elaborate on just what she was not to do, but he couldn't.
ES
"Your skin is as dark as chestnut, your heart black as night, but that does not change the fact you are just a man," she hissed; and the way she spoke was not the way a child spoke. In fact, in that moment he almost forgot the face he gazed into was the face of a child. For a moment, hardly a breath, he saw the woman she would have become.
"Don't…" he pled again, increasingly more frightened. Pieces of a puzzle were falling into place one by one, and suddenly her childish teases, her meaningless little gestures, the sweet little kisses she gave so readily, had taken on a whole new meaning. No, he was no longer blind, his eyes were opened, and what frightened him more than anything was that his heart was racing a mile a minute. Why? Longing…
Thoughts were springing to mind that had never been there before. The glimpse of the woman she would have been was imprinted there. Desire. He wanted that image to stay forever; he didn't want it to be replaced by the child's, because the child's image was not the true image; the child's image he could do nothing with. And oh how he wanted it. He wanted the woman, not her child form. He wanted this woman's promises. He desired to hold her near, to feel her warm breath tickling his ear, to kiss her not as a brother, nor a father, but as something else. He wanted her to remain, to share his bed, the woman. He longed to return all she felt. But he wouldn't…
He wouldn't because the woman above him was a child; true only in form, but a child nonetheless; and he would not and could not bring himself to do anything to her that would spoil her innocent form. "I'm sorry," he whispered quietly. There was silence, terrifying silence, and still she gazed down into his eyes, furious tears shining in her own. But she knew; he sensed she knew. He would be paying dearly now if she didn't; and finally she climbed off of the bed and marched out, head held high. He watched mournfully after her. It wasn't a little girl's eager and excited step; it was with the grace of a woman that she walked, and he shivered and shook, unable to stop. He knew then that no sleep would come to him.