[M] The Darkness Down Below

[Violet]

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Something rapped against wood, a dull thumping sound that prodded intrusively into her dreamless sleep. Her eyelids were heavy as they reluctantly opened, but everything around her was dark. Her pillow rose and fell as it breathed steadily, lost in its own slumber. She remembered now what had happened, and the taste of it was bitter as she took it in.
 
The sound came again, and a thin sliver of light crept across the room, penetrating the darkness with its harsh brightness. Squinting, she tried to make out the figure that peeked through that slim slice of light.
 
“My lady?” came a soft, feminine voice. It was one of the household maids, her fingertips grazing the edge of the doorway.
 
“What is it?” Violet’s voice was groggy with sleep.
 
“There is a message upstairs for you...from Warlord Ramses.”
 
What the hell did he want? Violet rolled away from Nathaniel, suddenly missing the warmth of his body as the cool air assaulted her naked flesh. They weren’t due to visit him until…until…what day was it? “How long have we been down here?”
 
The maid peeked her head in finally, the jagged features of her otherwise lovely face softened by the backlight. “About twelve hours, my lady.”
 
“Twelve…fuck.” That meant they had about six, at least, until they were supposed to be at Ramses farce of a fucking dinner party. Admittedly, the sleep and sex were a fantastic way to have wiled away those hours.
 
Nathaniel stirred and mumbled something beside her. “I guess we shouldn’t waste any more time then,” he muttered drowsily. She took in the sight of him, his lengthy black hair tousled from sleep, the penetrating iciness of his pale, blue eyes as they found hers, the slight lift to his lips as he recalled what they had done. Power still sparked between them, faint, but the promise of what could be was still there.
 
In a swift movement, he was on his feet, naked and glowing with a thin sheen of sleep sweat. It made her pause as her gaze roved slowly over him, and the realization that after all this time, he still had this besotted effect on her. She hated it.
 
The servant at the door was not one bit abashed at her master’s nudity, looking him full on not with lust, but admiration and devotion. If only they knew what she knew about him, would they still look up to him like some kind of living god?
 
Nathaniel held his hand out to her, motioning her to take it. “Come, we’ve got shit to do before we go to visit our favorite warlord.”
 
Violet scoffed, ignoring his hand and moving to her feet on her own. Her eyes were smoldering as she looked at him. She wanted to say something, but it didn’t feel like the right time, not in front of his subordinate. Although she hated him, she knew undermining him in front of his underlings was not the wisest of ideas. Let them worship him.
 
Dressing quickly, Nathaniel and Violet followed the maid, whom she learned was called Ulla, up to the main level of the compound. They ate and cleaned themselves, and Nathaniel barked instructions for loading the coaches with supplies for their trip. Violet found a quiet moment in the room she was given, sorting through the meager belongings she had brought with her.
 
Her fingers moved gently over a red stained cloth wrapped with a dirtier white scrap of material she had kept folded neatly within a pocket of her clothing. Guilt washed over her in a scalding wave, and she winced, recalling what she had done just twelve hours before. They were dead, she thought. She was sure of one’s death, but the other might as well have been. He didn’t even exist here, that she knew of. Shoving the scrap of fabric back into the pocket of her pants, she sighed. Why was she so hung up on her old life? She’d loved and lost them. They were part of the old world, the old life, just as Nathaniel had been, but he was here, and they were not. And yet, her all too human attachments to her old mates kept her clinging to some kind of hope and some kind of guilt that she had no business hanging on to anymore. The only thing that remained of that old life were herself and this man who was thrust upon her as her new ‘master’.
 
Soft hands enveloped her shoulders, squeezing gently. She jumped, startled from the sudden touch. “They meant a lot to you?”
 
Nodding, Violet shoved the clothing away from her, then shrugged away from him. “Even after all these years, it hurts just as much now as it did then.” Turning to face him, she let him see the rawness of her emotions on her pale face. “I loved them both as fiercely as I had loved you once. One saved me by sacrificing himself, and the other…the other is lost to time and space, but still just as gone as Bardock. You’ll never understand, not in a million years, nor a million universes or lifetimes.”
 
Nathaniel reached out, cupping her jaw. A thumb stroked the soft flesh there. “You have every reason in the world to hate me, and I know that,” he said. “I regret everything I’ve done to you, but just as they are all part of another lifetime, so is that person I was. I am different now, as are you. Our situations are different, yet we still ended up here, together. Maybe this was how it was always meant to be.”
 
“Us? Together?” Violet scoffed. “Coincidence that we’re here, maybe, but meant to be? Get that fairy tale shit out of my face.”
 
Nathaniel’s hand dropped, and she knew she’d hurt him. Great. “Maybe that was a little too far.”
 
“No, you’re right,” his lips quirked into a half smile. “It was just a fairy tale idea.”
 
An hour passed in silence. Violet spent it in blissful solitude, working on mastering her hold of this thing called omnilium. She’d managed to create some decent armor and a sword almost as long as she was. It was fashioned into the shape of a katana, a slim blade enrobed with magic and a hilt of leather and steel. It was a little heavier than she liked, but it would work. She spent another ten minutes on the hilt, which would strap to her back. Usually, such a placement would be awkward to access the weapon, but she found a way to be able to withdraw the weapon without it catching on her clothing or getting stuck in the hilt.
 
Holding the long, smooth blade in front of her, she admired her craftsmanship: although not forged by fire, it was still a work of art, and the steel was quality. A ripple from its ‘forging’ ran along its length, with intricate runes patterned on either side. The runes were meant to protect her and ensure a swift death to her enemies. Her fingers touched the edge of the blade, deftly running the tips along the sharpness until it drew blood. Redness welled from the cut and soaked into the blade, the steel seemingly drinking it up. She watched, intrigued, as her blood snaked its way through the steel, embedding itself into the runes.
 
“Bloodthirsty,” she murmured. “That is what I will call you.” The blade gleamed in response. Sheathing it, Violet made her final preparations before joining the rest of the party in the hall.
 
They were as ready as they were going to be. She avoided Nathaniel’s gaze up until they entered their coach. He helped her inside, and closed the door behind them. Other than themselves, it was empty, and the silence was thick enough to slice through.
 
Motioning towards her, Nathaniel broke the silence. “I see you’ve busied yourself.”
 
“I can’t just walk into Ramses as unprepared as I was the first time. Fool me once…” she shrugged. “It’s not the best, but it’s better than nothing.”
 
“Truth.”
 
“He won’t catch me unaware this time.” Her body shifted in the leather seating as the road became rough. “I will not be taken advantage of again. From anyone.”
 
Nathaniel nodded, and she wasn’t sure if he’d gotten her allusion. That especially includes you, she thought darkly.
 
The rest of the trip was filled with plotting. He reminded her of their conversation yesterday, the challenge that Ramses was sure to issue during their ‘party’, and the fact that it would not be wise to let him win. Not only for her freedom, but the Underverse as a whole would be in danger. It made her anticipation for this meeting that much less thrilling. Deposing a madman was going to be tough, but if anyone was going to do it and succeed, it would have to be them.
 
The carriage fell silent as they approached the gated wall of Ramses’ compound. Two fairly large creatures flanked the entry, enrobed in black steel plating and carrying swords as large as they were tall, they were definitely not to be scoffed at. A pair of lesser demons searched their carriage, and after some time, deemed them safe to enter.  She didn’t recognize any of them, which could mean that Ramses had beefed up his security by adding more guards since they were here last. Was he anticipating something?
 
“They’re new,” Nathaniel observed. “You’re not the only one who noticed.”
 
“This could be a problem.”
 
“Maybe,” Nathaniel nodded. “Then again, we’re coming with a few surprises of our own.”
 
Violet lifted a brow. “Are we going to be able to do what we did last night without having to resort to…”
 
“It’ll take some improvisation, but yes, it’s possible.”
 
She sighed heavily, relieved. Fucking him again was definitely not on her to-do list ever again, although, admittedly, the experience was amazing. It took a lot of convincing to remind herself she still hated his guts, and was harder still that her body seemed to defy her with just the memory. Nathaniel looked at her slyly, and she knew he felt what she felt in that moment.
 
“Stop it,” she snapped.
 
“You’re projecting pretty hard right now, Vi.”
 
“I can’t help it!”
 
“There’s no shame in admitting you enjoyed what we did.”
 
She pouted stubbornly. “One night does not make up for what you’ve done, nor does it erase three decades of hatred.”
 
Rolling his eyes, Nathaniel resigned himself to her tantrum. “I am not prostrating myself again for your forgiveness.”
 
“No one asked you to.”
 
“You didn’t have to,” he growled. “I gave it the first two times willingly.”
 
“Still, didn’t have to.”
 
Her partner let out an exasperated cry, slapping his hands on his leather-clad thighs. “Fuck history right now, Violet, let’s concentrate on what lays ahead of us. It’s not just your lily-white ass on the line here. It’s all of us. So put that shit aside and let’s work together for a change. You can go back to hating me later when we’re the fuck out of here.”

Violet blinked at him dumbly. More than once, he had expressed concern over someone other than himself. Could he be so sincere? Was she being petulant? Probably.

“Fine.” The vitriol in that one word was enough. She wasn’t happy, but he was right. Begrudgingly, she apologized. “Can’t wait until this is over.”
 
“Same here,” he replied.