*******************************************
Plot: Very general, and extremely subject to change, since to some
extent I'm working out the logic in my head, but this should give an
idea of the overall themes and such. The earlier sections are much
firmer in my head, later sections more general and more subject to
change. There's also a certain amount of prose stirred through,
obviously very rough draft form with a lot of details wrong, since it
was written in advance (and may well not appear in the final product ...
sometimes things like that are just ideas).
Beginning with Part 10
Sam goes after Janet with Rubio and several other troops he trusts.
As they ride after Janet, Rubio just keeps talking to Sam, calming her
down, pointing out the evils of slavery, and she comes to believe that
Janet bolted because of being made a slave. She's angry, but not
murderously so, and he makes enough good points that she starts feeling
some guilt. During the journey, runs across a watchtower in the pass and
finds it unmanned ... and clearly long abandoned and is furious that the
pass into the valley where the royal city stands is unguarded. Also
finds evidence that Janet has been there.
Janet runs across a local who gives her some help/information and
gives her some hope that the SGC might still be looking for them.
The rest of the night, and a full day passes. As they ride into the
valley where the gate stands, they see some of the same mess SG-1 did,
but Sam assumes any damage they see to have been done by the outlanders.
None of the soldiers with her have ever been in this valley before and
don't know. At some point she realizes that some of the fields they pass
have been fallow a long time (the earth is hard and cracked). Rubio
comments on the drought, and she's confused, doesn't even know about it.
The discussion is cut off when they run across the same peasant Janet
saw. Question him, and he's clearly terrified. Sam is calm, thinking the
outlander attacks just have him so scared, offers him a reward and
explains that the woman could be in danger. He finally tells them where
she was headed.
A storm is brewing, thunder and lightning rumbling and moving closer
as Janet reaches the building she was using as a clinic before they find
her, and finds a radio left behind in a hiding place. Takes a couple of
tries, but finally gets a response. She's very emotional, exhausted.
It's O'Neill and Teal'c. They're nearby and have been coming and going,.
Ask if Carter's alive, she answers yes, starts to explain, but hears
something outside. Tells O'Neill she may have to move. He assures her
they're on the way as she shuts the radio off, afraid of being heard.
Outside, at first, she thinks everything's okay, then Sam tackles her,
pins her after a brief wrestling match. She's angry, but not out of
control. As much as anything, seems to angry because Janet could have
been hurt or killed. Rubio wants to hurry and get headed back, afraid
the storm might give them a problem ... and worried about outlanders,
since they're so near the gate. Sam is more involved in trying to figure
out if the building is simply old or one that was destroyed. Does not
find the radio, since it was lost when she tackled Janet. Rubio says
it's probably abandoned, since this plain has dried out so thoroughly
during the drought. Janet explains that it was the one she used as a
clinic, but Sam rejects the explanation, having decided that her world
wasn't where Janet was taken. She has not locked Janet back into the
cuffs at this point, but is keeping a hard hold on her, though there's
no way she's going to escape with that many men around. A thin rain
begins, the lightning still flashing as they finally ready to leave.
Then a lightning flash silhouettes two figures on a nearby rise. One of
Sam's men panics and fires, while Janet screams in warning as she
realizes it's O'Neill and Teal'c. A brief firefight follows, while Sam
and Janet struggle. It's obvious that Janet is trying to get back to the
two men, and shouts out,"She's here!" meaning Sam and trying
to get the men to retrieve her. Teal'c fires his staff weapon at some
point, but not directly at them, afraid of hitting the doctor. Sam
finally gags Janet and uses the manacles. Because Janet called out to
the men and her man lies and insists they didn't fire first, she
believes it was an attempt on her life and Janet was in on it. They
escape O'Neill and Teal'c as the heavens open up. Somewhere in all of
it, the radio makes a reappearance, and Sam realizes janet was in
contact with the men.
Hours later, the small group rests their mounts. Sam accuses Janet of
whoring herself to escape, and of attempting to kill her. Janet denies
the charge, winds up gagged once again.
Upon returning to the castle, Valchon is waiting for them, having
found out that they went after Janet. The soldier that fired on O'Neill
and Teal'c, feeling defensive, and afraid of getting in trouble for his
mistake, blurts out that there was an attempt on their queen's life in
front of everyone, giving Valchon an opening to pressure Sam to turn
Janet over to the interrogators ... which she finally does under his
pressing, logical argument ... and because she's so furious.
Janet is dragged into a lower level dungeon straight out of a horror
flick, and handed over to an interrogator, who clearly intends to
torture her, and is enjoying the idea. There are other prisoners,
clearly brutalized. Chained to a post, Janet manages to work her way
free while he begins preparing his "tools" and winds up
beating him senseless.
She moves to free the men who are prisoners there, but can’t find
the right key on the ring. Hearing someone coming, she hands the keys
over. "Keep them hidden until you can make your escape."
Valchon appears at the top of the stairs and they fight, he grabs her
around the throat, and throws her in an instant. Even he seems surprised
by how far she flies. Badly dazed, Janet isn't much able to fight, and
doesn't see the way his eyes glow faintly for a moment. She's dragged
back and chained once again, and the interrogator is quite furious as he
begins once again, complaining that she's slowed things down. Valchon
taunts her, then leaves.
************************
Sam, meanwhile is in her own quarters, well on her way to getting
drunk, very possibly suicidal ... and very probably throwing off the
programming, though it's clear it won't be fast enough. Lemier arrives,
knows what's happened to Janet, and is afraid that if she isn't saved,
Sam will revert to herself and/or commit suicide if Janet is killed
because of her orders, but he doesn't have the power to take on an
interrogator and/or Valchon. Finally talks her into rescuing Janet by
reminding her that she won't survive the interrogators, and the original
reasons for not handing her over still stand ... though it's not really
that hard. Sam basically just wants an excuse.
Janet is struggling, fighting to get free once again as the
interrogator advances with a red hot poker from behind. Sam arrives and
stops him just in time. Livid, she orders him to get out, and he thinks
she just means so that she can work the prisoner over before he starts,
at which point she responds to the effect of,
"I don't think you understand. Get out of this room ... out of
this palace ... out of my lands ... in fact, why don't you get off the
entire planet. If I see you again, your life is forfeit."
He finally flees. She frees Janet, who's bitterly angry, but smart
enough to shut up. Sam locks the gold manacles on both of her prisoner's
wrists. Notices the other prisoners, and demands to know their crimes
... it's an appallingly non-criminal litany ... basically just the
various ministers taking out petty bits of revenge and punishment.
Clearly in charge is a general who doesn’t trust her, and is worried
about Janet. Sam offers him a deal if he’ll serve her personally when
she finds out his crime was to refuse to orger his men to rape a girl
who refused a minister. She orders Lemier to have them released into the
custody of her personal guard, to be fed, their injuries treated, etc.
Then drags Janet out.
Alone in her apartments, the anger is swelling, and she's barely in
control, still believes Janet was part of a "murder attempt"
but at the same time, she wants her, can't allow her to be killed, and
feels guilty over what nearly happened. When Janet resists, they
struggle and Janet winds up with the handcuff chain thrown over a wall
sconce, arms forced over her head, Sam against her back. Sam's furious.
"Why did you have to ruin everything?" She tears Janet's
blouse and it's a near thing ... but finally can't go forward, and winds
up clinging to the wall sconce, her hands on top of Janet's, face buried
in her hair, sobbing desperately. Finally pulls back and frees one of
Janet's wrists in order to lock her to the servant's pallet, won't let
her look back though ... and Sam finally leaves.
Ordering Melanthus and Elyana to look after Janet, Sam drags Rubio
off, demanding if he knows how to use the sword he carries, and when he
says he does, she makes him give her a lesson (he is resistant). It's
just a brutal, battering for both of them. And for most of it, there's
little talk, but toward the end as they're both just exhausted, there is
some chatter ... Rubio asking Sam what she intends, and she admits she
doesn't know. She's worked off some of the rage, but she's still not
very much in control ... back to talking about the brutality of the
outlanders, and now that she knows Janet's a part of it, doesn't know
what to do. At some point, he basically says that if she's just going to
torture her, it would be kinder to simply kill her. Sam just freezes.
She can't even argue. Finally, she just pushes to her feet and leaves.
Barely coherent, Sam stumbles into the gardens, confused, lost,
distraught over what she saw in the dungeons, torn over what she very
nearly did, just emotionally shredded. It's all crashing in on her, and
she just stands there as the heavens open up. Sinks to her knees,
sobbing. When a hand lands on her shoulder, for a moment, she thinks
it's Janet, but it's Maya, and even knowing better, Sam sinks into her
arms, just needing to be close to someone. For once, Maya gets it, and
just holds her, offering nothing but comfort. Afraid of moving Janet out
of her quarters, and afraid of her own behavior, Sam moves Maya back
into her apartments, essentially using her as a chaperon, and puts
Elyana back in charge of her, though Melanthus is now the military
guard, while Rubio is assigned to head up a new division of the guard
made up of hand picked guards. She also offers the men rescued from the
dungeons an opportunity to join the guard and be trained, and also
arranges for Rubio to give her more training with weapons, while hunting
down any books she can find on military history and tactics. She also
begins dressing more practically, eschewing the gowns much of the time
in favor of more military-esque garb.
Janet meanwhile keeps expecting Valchon to show up and kill her, but
nothing happens. She subtly asking questions, and keeps getting
different stories on the history. At some point, begins to realize that
the people just parrot whatever the ministers tell them is the truth
because doing anything else means punishment. She also begins to put
together the history of the planet, and begins to suspect the Goa'uld
were involved somewhere in the past ... that maybe what's been done to
Sam has to do with their technology. Janet also gives Elyana a rough
physical, wishes she had access to the vaccine and equipment in her bag
so she could do a better job and make sure Elyana and the baby are
protected ... though she concludes the pox isn't on this side of the
mountains ... which the ministers have used as a natural break ...
pretty much just writing those people off and cannibalizing their
equipment.
Sam is angry at Janet but also tempted to take Janet to her bed and
fighting it, and both of them are intensely aware of one another. Sam
tries desperately to pretend that Janet means nothing to her, but it’s
obviously an act. The first several nights, Sam just sleeps next to Maya
without touching her, though Maya makes some overtures.
At some point, Lemier meets with Sam under the pretense of reporting
on something, subtly tries to talk her into accepting that she's in love
with Janet and seducing her into her bed. Points out that she does have
decency and caring ... that they don't really know what she was doing
when she called out, that Valchon had his own reasons for wanting her
turned over to the interrogators, etc. "You could teach her that
there's a better way than what she saw among her own people." Sam
is unbelievably tempted, but has several excuses for not doing anything.
After he leaves she's thinking about it though.
Several nights later, Sam walks in, spies on Janet in the bath ...
leaves to keep from going to her. Comes back later after Janet should be
asleep and gets her own bath. Sees Janet watching her and purposely
takes her time, listening to the sounds of Janet's breathing, hearing it
grow heavier, smelling her arousal, and feeling it wash over her. At
some point, she looks up, their eyes meet, and she's one step from going
to her, except she sees fear in Janet's eyes, sees her pull back. She
climbs out, goes to bed, and this time, she's already so worked up that
when Maya starts to make love to her, she gives way.
************************
But the realization that she no longer had even the faintest hint of
desire for her lover. Beautiful as she was, there was nothing there. She
didn't even know why. Once her blood had burned for Maya. She remembered
it well enough; they'd made love by the hour, so absorbed in one
another, the entire world had ceased to exist. Now, after simply going
through the motions, she felt in dire need of a bath.
****************
Sam speaks to Lemier who once again encourages her to pursue Janet.
When she reminds him that she tried that once, and Janet ran and nearly
wound up dead as a result, he points out that it’s because she didn’t
hold onto Janet, that she’s safest in Sam’s possession. Sam is
frustrated and angry, but also mulling over what he’s said, and she
wants Janet desperately.
********************
Careful not to disturb the woman sprawled asleep in her bed, Terreis
slid out from under the covers and shrugged into a robe, startled by the
hollow feeling in her chest as she thought of their earlier lovemaking,
though there had been nothing of love to it, just a habitual sort of
release. Whatever she had once felt for Maya, it seemed it was long
dead.
She paused, peering at her lover and trying to find something of the
emotion she should feel. Except she felt nothing but an empty sort of
regret where the other woman was concerned, the recent ugliness that had
passed between them leaving an nasty taste in her mouth that she
couldn't push down. Real or not, the hours spent in the outlander's arms
had spoiled anything else for her.
Finally, wanting to leave it all behind, she stepped onto the
balcony, the chill air an oddly calming balm to jangled nerves. The
outlander had been in quarters just over a week and yet, somehow,
everything had changed. Silent, kept out of the way, her care handled by
the servants, her presence should have been barely noticeable, but she
permeated every fibre of the place and thoughts of her permeated every
aspect of the queen's day. She moved to peer through the double doors
onto the balcony, a frown touching her brow as she noted the faint gleam
of moonlight on the gold chain that locked her to the staple in the wall
above the narrow pallet. Without planning, she stepped back inside, her
eyes going not to her own bed, but the narrow servant's pallet and the
woman sleeping there. She tensed when a slender shadow slipped in
through the doors, followed by a taller, broader figure. Elyana and
Rubio.
Elyana's head remained down, her tone low and uncertain. "You
were busy earlier ... and she hasn't eaten since lunch."
Terreis stepped forward, raising a hand so the two servants pulled up
short. "I'll see to her," she said softly. She saw their
surprise, Rubio's particularly, since he was well aware of how difficult
things had gotten, and had it in her to wonder at the impulsive
decision. "Get some rest. You've both been working murderous
hours." She nodded to Rubio. "Take the rest of the night
off." She smiled at the young guard's wife. "Spend some time
together."
"Are you sure?" he questioned, his voice almost inaudible.
She nodded, offering a hint of a smile. "You've earned it. Take
a little time for yourselves."
The girl’s eyes went to Janet. "But she hasn’t eaten, My
Queen."
"Don’t worry," Terreis assured her servant. "I’ll
see to it that she’s fed." She took the food tray from Elyana,
staying where she was until they'd gone, then turning back to the
prisoner's pallet. Janet still slept deeply, and didn't stir as Terreis
drew close and set the tray on the small table placed there for that
purpose. Settling on the edge of the narrow pallet, she rested her hand
lightly on a narrow hip. The outlander had tugged the thin pillow up
over her head and Terreis carefully tugged it aside, leaning close to
urge, "Wake up." The prisoner stirred sleepily and brushed
sleep mussed hair from her eyes. "You need to eat," the queen
said softly, eyes sliding over what she could see of the other woman's
frame, assessing her condition. She was definitely regaining the weight
she'd lost and looking far more healthy. She was nearly back to normal,
due in almost total part to the efforts of the two servants.
Janet pushed upright, frowning as she realized who sat there. The
edgy look that entered dark brown eyes did nothing to soothe the queen's
torn emotions.
"I told Elyana and Rubio to take the rest of the night
off," Terreis informed the prisoner, her voice as businesslike as
she could make it, babbling to keep from saying other, far more
dangerous things. They’d barely spoken since that awful scene after
she’d rescued Janet from the interrogator. "They've been putting
in such long days, they deserve a little rest." She was mildly
surprised when Janet simply accepted the food offered. Unable to take
her eyes from soft lips, the memory of their taste burning in her head,
Terreis plucked another piece of fruit from the tray, offering it up
with just a hint of an inviting smile. "If you haven't tried these,
you should. They're sweet ... wet," she said without any planning,
then swallowed hard as the double meaning struck her and sent hard bolt
of arousal throbbing through her veins.
The outlander froze, her fingers just barely touching the fruit, eyes
suddenly wide. Frowning, she yanked her hand back, and seemed about to
say something when Terreis held the sweet pulp up to those pink, silky
lips that held her attention so thoroughly.
Logically, pursuing the outlander was a foolish move at best, and yet
she couldn’t seem to stop herself from continuing to press the sweet
fruit on her prisoner. "Taste it," she commanded, her voice
low and intense, her tone making it obvious she wouldn't accept a
refusal. She waited until Janet took a bite, then her gaze flicked down,
focusing on the slender curve of her prisoner's hip where her hand had
settled so comfortably. The blanket had slid low and it took only the
tiniest movement of her thumb to ease it aside and settle her palm on a
pale thigh. Taut muscles jumped under her loose hold and the outlander
gasped.
"Don't," Janet hissed as Terreis just barely stroked
velvety skin with the pad of her thumb.
The queen looked up in response to the angry command, her voice low
and serious when she finally spoke. "You must know by now, that you
don't give the orders here." Using her other hand, she poured a
measure of fruit juice into a glass as she continued the subtle caresses
on her prisoner's thigh. She held the glass up to full lips, her voice
little more than a tight rasp. "Drink." With little choice in
the matter, Janet's lips parted to accept the sweet liquid, though she
tensed as Terreis eased her hand farther under the blanket, fingers
fitting themselves to curve of her hip. Resistant tension rippled
through her, but didn't deter the queen as she found herself once again
lost in the same arousal that had haunted her since discovering the
woman in the dungeons.
"What are you doing?" Janet whispered, though she knew full
well.
The queen set the glass aside, then lifted her hand to stroke a
velvety cheek and slide her fingers into silky hair. She leaned closer,
breathing in soft scent of clean hair and skin, her breath playing over
the curve of her prisoner's jaw. "I saw you watching me," she
whispered.
Janet stiffened, the fear returning in full measure. "I
wasn't--" she denied instantly.
"Don't lie," Terreis cut her off as she studied soft
features, assessing the anger and resentment, fingers moving lightly
over a smooth thigh even as she registered the tension that rippled
through firm muscle. "I don't think you can stop thinking about
that night either," she groaned, the words equal part admission and
accusation. "About what happened between us--"
"Don't," Janet pleaded.
A soft, growling curse escaped the queen's lips, Janet’s resistance
an additional frustration to already charged hormones. She tightened her
fingers fractionally; just enough to serve as a reminder of who was in
charge. "You could have become my consort ... I would have seen a
child sired on you ... your blood on my throne one day." Her eyes
blazed. Furious over the thwarted fantasy, she reached out, flicking the
chain with a fingernail. "Instead, this will be your fate."
Sometimes she almost hated Janet for pushing things to this point. If
she had just stayed put, this wouldn't be necessary.
A tiny, hurt whimper bubbled up from Janet's throat, the sound
sending an echo of much-resented guilt through her captor.
Despite everything, Terreis hated the damn chains and the need for
them, hated the way they made her feel and the pain they put into dark
eyes. She wanted nothing more than an excuse to be rid of them.
"Offer yourself to me in trade for some modicum of freedom,"
she whispered after a beat. It would give both of them something they
wanted and perhaps alleviate some of that unwanted sense of culpability,
though she was uncertain of her crime.
Eyes sparking with anger, Janet shook her head. "Never,"
she hissed, her voice trailing into a startled gasp as Terreis leaned
even closer, drawn by the scent of soft skin, and the promise of sweet
flesh, barely able to resist the pressing need to take things to the
next level.
"That's a very long time," the queen drawled, somehow
disappointed by and at the same proud of the defiance, amazed to realize
some part of her would have been saddened had Janet surrendered to the
blackmail so easily, or traded something so precious. Her eyes fell to
touch on the underside of her prisoner's jaw, noting the rapid flutter
of her pulse where it throbbed just under the line of bone. "But
you really should reconsider." Her gaze rose again as she felt
tension slip through already taut muscle. "I have the power to
control your fate." She swallowed hard, her own pulse suddenly
hammering in her chest. "Why not bargain for yourself with such
valuable coin...."
Janet just barely moved her head back and forth, her eyes locked on a
point somewhere on the opposite side of the room. "I won't,"
she insisted raggedly.
Terreis was silent for a moment, torn between being let down and
relieved by the answer. "When I was younger, I once tamed a wild
dargash to my hand." She firmed her grip on Janet's thigh when she
would have pulled away. "It fought me ... would have killed me if
it could have. It didn't understand that being mine was the best fate
possible." Her lips just barely brushed that delicate pulse point,
tasting the fluttery beat before she continued. "But it soon
learned that I brought food and the curry comb ... that I would care for
it ... protect it." She trailed her free hand down the outer line
of Janet's upper arm, the delicate caress making muscles jump and play.
"It tamed to my hand ... and mine alone ... learned to love me ...
and allowed no other rider." She tasted the subtle pulse point
again, tasting the leap in her prisoner's heartrate and teasing it with
the tip of her tongue. "I rode it by the hour," she whispered,
her heated breath playing over incredibly smooth skin, "just as
I'll ride you." Her prisoner's free hand came up, arcing toward a
slap, but she caught the slender wrist before she could gain any force
and pressed it back into the mattress.
"And what about my supposed attempt to kill you?" Janet
challenged her angrily.
"The dargash tried to kill me and it still learned to seek my
hand ... just as you will." Terreis had tried to resist the
temptation, tried to walk away. She finally accepted she couldn't. It
didn't matter what Janet had done, nor what she was, nor that she was
totally inappropriate as a consort to a queen. She was what Terreis
needed like she needed air to breathe.
Janet turned her head until they were almost nose to nose, her eyes
blazing. "While her sweat is still drying on your skin?" she
demanded, her tone accusing.
Flinching as though struck, Terreis reared back an inch or two, then
she leaned back into Janet's space, crowding her, her voice a low rasp.
"Say the word," she husked, fingers tightening on the warm
thigh in her grasp, "and it will be yours." She pressed
Janet's wrist more firmly into the thin mattress to quell the rising
tide of resistance. "Your sweat on my skin, your taste in my mouth,
the weight of your breasts in my hands." Her teeth found the
vulnerable arch of her prisoner's throat, closing lightly on her
throbbing carotid artery this time, capturing and holding her heartbeat
in the most visceral way possible. She felt the hard beat accelerate and
the tiny whimper that vibrated Janet's larynx. Releasing soft flesh, she
claimed her prisoner's mouth in a plundering kiss, demanding her
complete surrender. This was exactly where they both belonged, bound
together at every level. She jerked her head back a brief moment later,
her eyes blazing, blood dripping from her lower lip. "Your answer,
I presume?" she ground out, every movement slow and stiff as she
reached up and wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.
Janet didn't answer, just glared up at her, small tremors wracking
her slender frame.
"Very well," Terreis growled and released the prisoner to
push to her feet. She stood perfectly still for a long moment, silently
willing the other woman to give ground where she as queen, could not.
When the only answer was a deep, echoing silence, her teeth gritted,
frustration burning like a fire in her gut. She almost stepped forward
and simply took what they both needed. Janet had surrendered before and
she knew in her heart she would again.
Almost.
A long moment passed, and then she shook her head, backing up a step.
Not this time. Not when she was already angry and tasting blood, but had
no idea what the next step after the sex should be.
With nothing else she could do, the queen pivoted and stalked away.
And when she slid into bed and woke Maya with rough kisses, it was done
to punish, the harsh caresses her lover had come to crave used to draw
ragged cries she knew would twist the knife.
No question in her mind how much it would hurt the outlander. She
didn't even begin to understand her certainty, but despite her denials,
Janet was as bound up in her as she was in Janet. Something tied them
together, and though neither of them knew how to deal with it, nothing
changed that link.
"More," Maya gasped, and Terreis obliged her, releasing her
anger in hard thrusts, while her handmaid begged for everything she
could deliver and then some. She screamed when she came, while Terreis
found herself far less aroused than she had been when she'd started. She
waited until the other woman had rolled over and slid off into heavy
sleep, then slipped from bed, her eyes sliding toward the servant's
pallet. Janet had pulled the blankets and pillow over herself and was
either asleep or determinedly ignoring the scene on the other side of
the room.
Either way, the whole thing left Terreis feeling curiously hollow.
She'd set out to punish the outlander. What she couldn't have known --
or perhaps she could have if she'd been paying attention -- was that by
the time her lover slept, she would be the one who hurt so much. And
when she slid into the sunken bath, scrubbing her skin as though she
could make her own actions go away that easily, it finally sank in that
the one she'd really punished was herself.
When she finally climbed out of the water, she pulled on a robe and
stepped onto the balcony, nauseous and a little dizzy under the impact
of it all. Gripping the railing tightly, she leaned heavily on her hands
and tipped her head back, staring skyward with longing eyes. The bright
points of starlight were a much needed comfort, their beauty soothing a
part of her soul that had been churning with confusion for some time now
... maybe her entire life. If she could just lose herself in those
distant lights, maybe she could escape it all for a little while and
figure out what to do.
She was still standing there like that some time later when soft
footfalls alerted her she wasn't alone. Half expecting to find Maya, she
almost didn't look, but then she turned, her expression softening as she
recognized Elyana's slender frame.
"My Queen," the young woman said with a small, respectful
curtsy, "I thought I should check on the prisoner ... just in case
... and I noticed you were out here." She shifted nervously from
foot to foot as if wondering whether she'd made such a wise decision in
coming out. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Despite the momentary temptation to unburden herself to the young
woman, Terreis shook her head. "No ... but thank you." She
nodded toward the door. "You should be with your husband."
They'd had little enough time to themselves, and they deserved it.
A soft smile curved the young woman's lips, making it obvious how
they'd spent their off time. "He sleeps," she murmured.
"He always does ... where my mind tends to run in circles."
She shrugged, her expression closing down and giving little away.
"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I should check on things."
"Thank you," the queen said softly, a wry smile curving her
lips at the surprised look that touched the young servant's soft
features. "You've done very well in your assigned duties."
"Thank you, My Queen. We've both been honored to serve
you." Elyana's expression was properly respectful, but some of the
trust was gone now, and had been since the night Terreis had taken the
outlander to her bed.
"You've done very well," Terreis said again and turned to
stare out at the city again. "May I ask you something?" she
said before the other woman could turn and leave.
"Of course, Highness," Elyana said instantly.
"Anything."
"The outlander ... do you think she tried to kill me?" She
had come to trust the young servant's view of things. The need to
survive had taught her to read people very well.
Elyana was silent for a long moment. "No," she said at
last. "I don't think she could if she wanted to." A small,
dark laugh escaped the younger woman's lips, a grim reminder that she
wasn't quite the innocent she often appeared. "She's foolish enough
to love you, I think."
Tension rippled through Terreis, and her hands tightened on the
railing, knuckles whitening with the strain. "You don't know what
you're talking about," she insisted even as she remembered her
certainty that the way to hurt Janet was to make love to Maya. "I'm
her enemy ... very possibly her target."
"Then why didn't she kill you when you were locked to the
headboard and sleeping peacefully?"
Terreis had no ready response. It was the one question she hadn't
thought of andno one else had asked.
"It would have been easy enough," Elyana continued, her
voice colder than the queen had ever heard it. "She could have
cracked your skull with any number of heavy objects in the room. If that
didn't kill you, it would have weakened you enough to allow her to
finish the job any number of ways." Her eyes glittered in a way
that made the queen suspect she'd plotted more than one murder in her
life -- or perhaps one murder many times. "Instead, she simply ran
... and even now, her eyes go first to you when she enters a room you're
in ... and when you enter, no matter what she's doing, she looks to you
and cannot look away." The maid shook her head, sad, or perhaps
disgusted. "And when you aren't aware she's watching you, her
expression softens with," she paused as she hunted for the right
word, the wait stretching Terreis' patience thin before she finally
answered, "longing," she decided at last. "She longs for
you."
The queen almost cried out, her body reacting with incredible
intensity to the softly uttered words. A murder plot might have
explained the watchfulness, but if Elyana was right, not the rest of it.
They were things she was so desperate to hear she almost thought she'd
imagined them. "I'm her captor," she whispered very softly,
her voice tinged with deep sadness. "She's already run from me
once. What she feels for me is anything but longing." No matter how
much she might wish it were otherwise.
"You're wrong," Elyana disagreed. She waited a beat, then
questioned, "But if she's simply a prisoner, why do you care?"
"She's my enemy." A small, grim laugh escaped the queen's
lips. "And yet...." She shook her head as if to resettle the
confusing jumble of thoughts swirling in her brain. It didn't help.
"She's mine," she exhaled almost inaudibly, finally admitting
to herself that, despite everything, that simple fact hadn't changed.
"And nothing either of us has done changes that. There’s a bond
that can’t be escaped."
Elyana released a small sigh, the emotions behind it unreadable. It
occurred to the queen that she was very good at shielding her emotions,
and very probably at projecting ones she didn't feel at all. "Then
that answers your question, I suppose, My Queen."
Terreis snorted softly. Answered it perhaps ... and generated a
hundred new questions in its place. "What of Maya?" She
suddenly accepted that any love was long since gone, but she still owed
the woman her respect and protection. To simply throw her aside in favor
of an enemy prisoner would be a humiliating insult. No matter the recent
battles between them, she didn't deserve to be treated that way.
Elyana's answering laugh was soft and subtly sarcastic. "I
assure you, My Liege, she'll live."
Terreis looked over her shoulder at the servant, picking up on the
deeper meaning of the comment. "Meaning?" she said sharply.
Elyana paled, looking uneasy with the conversation for the first
time. "It's not really my place to say," she whispered after
an uncomfortable moment of silence.
"Tell me," Terreis commanded brusquely. She didn't know
what was bothering the young woman, but it seemed obvious it affected
her.
"It's just that..." Elyana shook her head, fear glittering
in her eyes. Being the messenger of bad tidings was seldom a pleasant
experience for a servant in Arrathonea. "...she cuckolds you, My
Queen ... with one of your own ministers." She looked nervous, as
though afraid her words had been overheard.
For a moment, Terreis thought she must have misheard, then what
Elyana said slowly sank in. She wanted to doubt the girl, but couldn't.
She had no reason to lie. "Who?" she demanded, her voice a
harsh rasp.
Elyana was silent for a long moment. "If he finds out I told
you..." she whispered. "He's a powerful man."
The queen's gaze hardened. "I'm more powerful, believe me. But
you needn't worry, I won't tell anyone it came from you."
"It's just that--"
"You have my protection. Now tell me," Terreis snapped
impatiently.
"Minister Valchon," Elyana whispered at last, and Terreis
couldn't contain a soft gasp of surprise. "It is Senior Minister
Valchon."
"Are you sure?" the queen demanded, shock giving way to
something else; not anger precisely, but a soul deep resentment coupled
with an odd kind of relief. Maya had no claim on her emotions if she was
already feathering her nest with Valchon's wares, nor could the minister
claim a tax on her sympathies if he was cuckolding her with her own
mistress.
"The gossip has been thick in the kitchens since Rubio and I
arrived nearly a month ago ... but I also saw them myself ... she
entered his rooms ... and there were ... sounds."
Terreis nodded, absorbing the news. It all made sense; explained how
the minister had been able to track her so closely. Her hands tightened
on the railing, her mind already on the best response for dealing with
the situation. "Thank you for telling me," she said at last,
then looked back, seeing the young servant's fear and remembering her
husband's quietly spoken warnings about the minister's power. "You
needn't worry. No one will know you've told me this."
Elyana nodded. "Thank you, My Queen."
"No ... thank you." She had some idea of the courage it
must have taken to pass along that news, knowing the minister would make
a deadly enemy if he ever found out. "Now, go. I need to
think."
The young maid ducked her head and started to leave only to change
her mind and turn back. "The outlander, My Queen," she
murmured. "You asked if I think she tried to kill you ... so I ask
you, could you do what you fear she did?" Terreis frowned, not
understanding at all. "She's like you," Elyana explained.
"She sees things differently ... cares in ways most people don't
... and thinks in ways most people can't." She looked up, seeing
the same stars Terreis saw, but incapable of seeing them in the same
way. "She understands you in ways the rest of us cannot." She
looked down again, offering another quick curtsy, then slipped out,
leaving the queen behind her, her thoughts a chaotic turmoil.
Terreis stayed where she was for a long time, going over it all, the
only certain thing in her head, that the situation could not continue as
it was. Finally, she straightened and slipped back inside, moving to
stand beside the servant's pallet. She reached down, pulling the pillow
aside, then straightened, not fooled by her prisoner's unconvincing
attempt to feign sleep. "No more," she said just loudly enough
to be certain the other woman heard her. "This ends tomorrow. You
will be tamed to my hand ... mine and no other. Accept it, because I
won't play these games any longer." Turning away, she paused just
long enough to pull on a gown before hurrying out.
* * * * * * *****************
Janet was wakened from a fitful sleep by a blood-curdling shriek.
"You what?!"
Blinking sleepily, she pushed up on one elbow, brows rising as she
spotted Sam. There were dark circles under the blonde's eyes -- just as
Janet was certain there were under her own as many hours as she'd lain
awake in her bed before finally passing out -- and she stood braced as
though she was facing an incoming tornado. Considering the enraged woman
pacing the floor in front of her, the tornado might have been
preferable.
"The arrangements have been made--" Sam began, her tone
somewhere between commanding and placating, but Maya cut her off before
she could get any farther
"Am I to understand that I'm being thrown aside for that?"
she demanded, hurling a furious glare at Janet.
Sam ignored the implied insult, instead continuing in a remarkably
calm voice. "Lord Favril is a respected member of the lower
council, and his son will one day inherit his position. You'll have
money, respect, a title, and be--"
"Stuck in the farthest corner of the kingdom where they barely
even have running water," Maya exploded furiously.
"Nonetheless," Sam broke in before her servant could get
another word out. Her voice hardened, eyes suddenly flinty. "I've
lived up to our bargain and arranged a quality marriage. If Lord
Favril's son is not to your liking, there are other candidates ... but
you will not be staying in my apartments or this palace."
"You dare--" the handmaid began, but Sam cut her off again.
"Just like you dare to sneak into dark corners with my senior
minister." A dark blonde brow rose and soft lips pursed into an
expression that bordered on hatred. "My ancestors would have had
you flogged and thrown to the garrison for their night's entertainment
for such betrayal," she said sharply enough to slice through bone.
Janet was amazed by the sudden change that came over Maya. She went
white, her hands trembling violently. "Y-you can't ... can't
know--" she sputtered and reached for Sam.
The blonde knocked reaching hands away, her lips pulling back from
clenched teeth in an instinctive, feral snarl as she reared back to
avoid any contact. "I know," she disagreed harshly. "You
should have remembered that servants talk."
Maya paled another notch, her eyes full of sheer terror, far more
than she should have been feeling considering that Sam had already
promised to marry her off to some junior lord, it seemed to Janet's
eyes. "But after last night--" the handmaid whispered, trying
to use that sexual tie once again.
"Last night was nothing," the blonde bit out. She glanced
back at Janet, raw emotion in her gaze as their eyes met. "I didn't
want you," she told Maya as her head came back around. "I only
wanted to hurt her for refusing me." Her temper calmed as she
admitted the truth. "I haven't really wanted you in a long
time...."
Maya rocked on her heels as though struck with that pronouncement.
"You wanted me last night--" she insisted desperately, but Sam
cut her down with brutal efficiency.
"What happened between us made me physically ill." The
blonde straightened, her posture stiff and unrelenting. "Now take
your things ... and go." She nodded toward the door. "I've
arranged for you to have an apartment tonight ... and for an escort to
guide you to Lord Favril's estates tomorrow."
Maya drew breath to argue only to realize it was pointless before the
words left her mouth. She straightened her shoulders, somehow regaining
a small measure of dignity. "Have my things sent to me." She
looked up at Sam, her expression taking on a wry cast. "I wanted
out of this deal," she murmured without explaining further, then
shook her head. "I wonder if I'll learn to regret my wish."
Without waiting for any kind of answer, she turned on her heel and left.
After she had gone, Janet suddenly realized that Rubio and Elyana
were in the room, crowded into one corner, doing their best impression
of wallpaper.
Sam suddenly seemed to remember them as well, because she looked
over, her gaze sharp. "No word of this ... to anyone," she
said softly, then nodded her head ever so slightly. "I know Maya.
She'll turn this to her triumph for anyone who cares to listen ... and
the outlander will say nothing, so I'll know if I hear word of it.
Understood?"
"Of course, My Queen," Rubio said quickly, the knowledge of
the power he faced living in his eyes.
"We will tell no one," Elyana added, her tone more one of
sincerity than fear.
Sam's expression softened as her eyes fell on the young woman and she
offered a small nod. "I'm sure you won't," she murmured, the
accusatory tone disappearing altogether. She nodded to indicate the
door. "Now, go." Her gaze swung back around, coming to a halt
as it settled on Janet. "The Lady Fraiser and I have things to
discuss ... privately."
"Of course, Highness," Rubio said quickly, ducking his head
in automatic acknowledgment. He curved a hand to his wife's shoulder.
"We'll be in our quarters if you need either of us for any
reason."
Sam nodded in dismissal, no longer paying attention to him, her
entire focus on the woman sitting up in bed.
Janet waited until the door had closed behind Rubio and Elyana, then
looked up at Sam, the expression in her eyes a clear window to her
fears. "Now what?" she asked with the mien of someone facing
the gallows.
Sam folded her hands together behind her and made no move to advance.
"Now we discuss that very topic."
"I thought you were going to tame me," Janet spat
bitterly, glaring at her tightly clenched hands where they sat in her
lap, her helplessness to stop any of this tearing at her, almost as
scared of the emotional consequences as the physical ones. She wasn't
sure she could survive if she wound up hating Sam. She looked up,
startled, when a gentle hand stroked her hair and she realized Sam had
stepped up to the bed. Faintly callused fingers dropped to her wrist,
tugging gently, urging her to her feet.
"I am," Sam whispered, her voice meltingly soft, reminding
Janet more of the woman she knew than she would have liked. She lifted
her hand to brush auburn hair back from Janet's brow, stroking lightly.
"But not with a brutal hand." Slipping a hand around Janet's
waist, she tugged her close.
"Don’t," the smaller woman hissed and tried to push the
blonde away, but Sam was having none of it.
"I’ll do all this," battle hardened muscles flexed,
pulling Janet even closer as Sam leaned down into her space, lips almost
but not quite brushing her temple, "and more," she whispered,
her hold tightening fractionally when Janet would have pulled back, but
without any of the violence or sense of threat that had marred too much
of their interaction. "Accept it. It will happen." She looked
down as she tucked a finger under Janet's chin and drew her head up
until their eyes met. "But not right now." She stroked a
softly rounded cheek. "Right now you're in a sore need of a
moment's peace." Leaning forward, she pressed the softest of kisses
to Janet's forehead, her lips lingering against soft skin as she held
her tenderly. "We both are."
Janet closed her eyes tightly, fighting the temptation to give in to
this soft voiced woman who reminded her of her friend. When she was like
this, the anger nowhere in evidence, it was so much harder to fight the
bond between them. "Don't," she breathed almost inaudibly, the
other woman's kindness threatening to shatter her self-control in ways
the anger hadn't.
"Shhh," Sam soothed as she petted silky hair. "Just
relax. For now, this is all that’s going to happen." She pressed
another kiss to Janet's temple, holding her until Janet couldn't hold
back the stress and fear any longer.
Trembling violently, the doctor broke down, fingers digging into
Sam's back as she clung tightly to the taller woman and harsh sobs
rattled her from head to toe.
"It's all right," the taller woman whispered over and over,
simply holding Janet until the emotion storm blew itself out.
Janet sagged against Sam, so exhausted she was weak in the knees.
"Why?" she whispered, looking up into Sam's eyes. She was lost
in an instant, that intelligent, incredibly deep gaze holding her
prisoner far more effectively than the chains around her wrist ever
would, and reminding her that Sam was still in there.
Sam sighed very softly and smoothed Janet's bangs back from her face.
"I tamed the dargash with a firm hand, but also kindness ... and a
light touch." She sighed again, the small sound heavy with guilt.
"I've handled you badly ... allowed my emotions to rule and made
you fear me." She trailed off momentarily, the silence stretching
between them as emotions traced across her face in an unreadable melange,
too numerous and complex to be easily read. "I'm angry about what
you did," she admitted, then took a deep breath and let it out
heavily, forcing down that anger, "but some of the fault is my own.
I trusted too quickly and forgot what you've learned from your own
people. I won't make that mistake again, but neither do I intend to let
my anger control my actions." She continued the gentle stroking.
"It may be that I'm fooling myself even now, but I can’t see you
harmed and I can’t give you up ... so I have to hope that I truly can
tame you."
"Damn you," Janet hissed, furious over the implications of
the softly spoken words, and well aware that the offer of comfort was
close to seducing her. Despite her best intentions, she turned her cheek
into Sam's palm as sensitive fingers stroked her temple. It was just
that she was so tired of feeling alone, and in such desperate need of
comfort.
Sam continued the tender caresses, her voice soft and soothing
despite the inherently threatening quality of her words. "You'll
learn to appreciate me as your mistress ... to know that you’ll always
be safe and protected in my possession...and that I can be kind ... even
gentle ... and that you’ll be rewarded when you please me," Sam
whispered as the soft caresses continued. She stroked the line of
Janet's jaw, then down her throat. "And you'll come to trust
me." She pressed a soft kiss to Janet's forehead. "And to
understand your own heart." She curved a hand to the back of
Janet's head, working her fingers into silky hair. "The manacles
stay from now on, but if you behave yourself, I'll see more links
inserted as time goes by--"
"Lengthening my leash--" the doctor growled, the idea
helping her to summon a fresh wave of anger.
"If you earn it," Sam confirmed, her tone quietly
practical. "That's how you gain privileges from now on ... earn
them through good behavior."
Teeth tightly gritted to keep from muttering every obscenity she
could think of, Janet turned her head away, reminding herself that
losing her temper at this point wouldn't do her any good.
"I know you're angry," Sam told her, using the hold on
Janet's hair to draw her head back up, "but this is for the
best." She ducked her head, brushing her lips over Janet's, the
caress soft and quick, but possessive, an expression of ownership.
"This way, we'll both learn to trust ... but things will be
controlled."
"I'll be controlled," Janet bit out, hurt that Sam
didn't instinctively know she'd never harm her, would in fact, do
everything in her power to protect the other woman.
A muscle flexed along the line of Sam jaw, and for a moment, Janet
could almost believe the look in her eyes was a sign of the woman she
knew resurfacing. "Yes," she said at last. "With time,
we'll come to understand each other." She sifted her fingers
through auburn hair. "But from now on, you're no longer my enemy.
Outside of these rooms, you must and will show me the proper
deference as queen, but within them, while your actions will be tightly
constrained, you may say anything you wish and fear no reprisals."
Janet frowned, the offer catching her by surprise. "Do you
really mean that?" she questioned suspiciously. Sam was trying to
bring her to heel in so many ways that she was automatically suspicious
of any new rights.
Sam nodded seriously. "On my honor. Part of trust is
understanding, and that can't exist without communication."
"Why this kindness now?" Janet asked, hesitant to trust
after everything she'd been through.
"Anything else would destroy us both." Janet was surprised
when Sam ducked her head, the kiss that followed soft and coaxing. She
demanded nothing, and Janet couldn't resist the tender entreaty of the
caress. She whimpered low in her throat and would have pulled back, but
Sam tightened her hold just enough to keep her close. Those soft lips
seduced and tutored, quickly leaving them both breathless and trembling.
When Sam finally broke the kiss and leaned back ever so slightly, she
was flushed and panting. "That's enough for now," she gasped
as if to remind herself to take things slowly. Swallowing hard, she
carefully set Janet back from herself and straightened her shoulders.
"I have urgent matters to see to ... otherwise I'd stay ... and
finish what we’ve started." She reached out, unable to control
the desire to touch. "But I’ll return soon." She let her
hand drop to her side, then stepped back a pace, seeming to gather
herself together, her expression becoming the bland mask she needed to
show the outside world. "In the meantime, I'll send Elyana and
Rubio to tend to your needs...and prepare you for tonight."
Tension rippled through Janet as she realized what Sam was saying.
"I thought I was allowed my freedom in these chambers."
A hint of a smile touched Sam’s lips, though it was a poignantly
sad expression. "Freedom to say what you wish...but not to do what
you wish." She ducked her head, stealing a quick kiss. "Say
whatever you want, but you will be mine tonight." She was on her
feet and out the doors before Janet could regain her breath to respond.
********
Terreis found her guard and his wife waiting in the anteroom to her
chambers, both looking uneasy. Clearly aware of the scene with Maya and
of her own desire for the outlander, it seemed obvious they were worried
about the outcome. The queen wondered if she should be worrying about
whether their greater loyalty lay with her or her prisoner.
"My Queen," Rubio said quickly as he took a half step
forward.
"I’ve matters to attend to," she said softly, her tone
serious enough to impress the two young people. "And I want you
look after the prisoner while I’m gone."
"Of course, My Queen," both servants answered at once, but
Terreis held up a hand, silencing them.
"As you’re no doubt aware, Maya has been banished from my
chambers," she informed them, barely waiting for their nods of
understanding before continuing, "The outlander will be taking her
place in my bed." She saw Elyana stiffen, her wide eyes glittering
with disapproval, and even Rubio looked uncomfortable with the news.
"My Queen--" the young woman began, but Terreis cut her
off, refusing to accept any guilt for the situation.
"While I’m gone I wish you to prepare her as you would any
slave for their master’s or mistress’ attention."
Elyana paled and shook her head ever so slightly.
"And if you feel you can’t," Terreis allowed, well aware
of Elyana’s feelings on the matter, "I’ll assign other servants
with no such reservations." It wasn’t her preference since Janet
seemed to derive considerable comfort from the two servants, and Terreis
was in no hurry to take that from her, but at the same time, she couldn’t
afford to have any resistance to what she intended. For just a moment
she thought Elyana might just leave, then Rubio stepped forward,
speaking quickly, his tone low and placating.
"Of course, it will be done as you wish, Your Highness." He
glanced at his wife, whose expression went from hurt to eerily blank in
a matter of moments. "You merely caught us by surprise."
"You said you wouldn’t use force," Elyana rasped.
A hint of shame showed in the queen’s eyes and she was the first
one to look away. She didn’t like it any better than Elyana, but she
saw no other way. "Things can’t go on as they are," she told
the girl, wishing she could live up to whatever ideal Elyana wanted.
"She needs to understand and accept that she belongs to me now...in
every way. I’ll be as gentle as I can, and I promise you she will know
pleasure and not pain, but she will serve my body."
"So you’ll break her," Elyana accused, glaring at her
queen and ignoring her husband’s subtle attempts to silence her.
"As I would break a wild dargash to the saddle, knowing that it
would be safer in my stables than in the wild," Terreis bit out,
resenting the guilt the young woman’s reminders forced onto her
shoulders. She looked up, some of her frustration showing even as she
tried to explain. "She’ll be well cared for and safer once she
accepts that my hand controls her life from now on," the queen
hardened her voice, "and that my bed is where she belongs."
She would not allow Janet another opportunity to escape. Could not allow
it for either of their sakes.
Elyana drew breath to respond, but Rubio stepped between the two
women and cut her off with a glare. He shook his head, silently
reminding her of the reality of their situation. They owed their queen
everything. Now was not the time to anger her, and while she had been
more loyal and decent than most royals, even she should not be trusted
or pushed too far. When he looked at Terreis again, his expression was
bland. "Of course we’ll see to your wishes, Highness." He
looked at his wife again, willing her to do as told despite her personal
revulsion.
"The Lady Fraiser will be prepared for your use as you’ve
instructed," Elyana confirmed, her tone going starkly bland, her
expression a cold mask that gave nothing away.
Terreis barely covered her wince at the word "use," but
ignored her emotional response with a brutal reminder that it was Janet’s
rightful place and it was time the outlander understood and accepted
that reality. "Good," she said more grimly than she intended.
"She’s to be mine again tonight ... no more delays."
Rubio nodded, his expression as flat as he could make it. "Of
course, My Liege." He looked to his wife again. "Elyana knows
what preparations are necessary, don’t you, my wife."
The girl stood stiffly for a beat, her gaze unfocused. Finally she
nodded, her gaze swinging up to clash with Terreis’. "I
know," she whispered flatly, "and I’ll see it’s done
properly ... so you may take your pleasure with her body tonight."
The words were carefully chosen to make the queen flush with shame,
which she did right on cue, but she wasn’t going to be dissuaded.
"I know you’re angry ... and you think I’m doing the wrong
thing," she said very softly, the admission coming with some
difficulty, but Rubio and Elyana had earned her respect and deserved the
truth. "I tried to do this every other way, but it wasn’t
working. She keeps fighting...and I fear that unless I do this, she’ll
push until I have no choice but to destroy her to protect myself and my
people...and I will not allow that to happen." She needed
them to understand it wasn’t a lightly made decision. "I’ll be
as kind as I can be ... but it’s past time she accept that she’s
mine." She fixed a hard gaze on Elyana. "And past time that
you accept it as well. No more encouraging her to defy me in any
way." She couldn’t blame the girl for her actions. Considering
her past, she was adapting amazingly well. But that didn’t mean she
could be allowed to foment trouble between them. "She’s be kept
in the handcuffs at all times ... and I want her ready and locked to the
headboard when I return."
Elyana paled, but nodded. "As you wish, My Queen," she
ground out.
"I wish," Terreis sighed and turned to leave only to turn
back before she’d gone more than a step. "I wish things were
easier ... that there was another way ... but I don’t see one."
Blah, blah...Sam exits...
* * * * * * ****************
Sam leaves, sees to several things then meets with Valchon, among
other things, informs him that she's replaced her personal guards and
won't have a spy in her bed. It's a very subtle fight for power ...
which Sam wins. Valchon has moved troops loyal to him to the valley the
gate is in, preparing for conquest ... which has left the palace
virtually unguarded. Sam is in the process of resetting the guards, but
now they're loyal to her, and it finally begins to occur to Valchon he
may have made a mistake since even several of the ministers (those from
poorer districts) who know that she's not really the queen are switching
their loyalties, since she's actually doing something to improve things
in ways that might affect their own lands.
*********************************
Sam returns to find Janet nude, chained to the headboard, blankets
held to hide herself. She starts to ask what’s going on , but Sam
silences her, peels the blankets back, studies, then touches. When Janet
resists, she drags her out until her arms are stretched above her head,
then makes love to her...it’s rough and demanding, but she can’t
resist.
"You’ve done well," Terreis told Rubio and Elyana though
she barely even glanced at them, her attention reserved for the woman
kneeling on the bed. Etched gold glittered on her wrists, the chain
easily spotted where it looped through the carved pattern of the
headboard, the shortness of the chain putting her very near the head of
the bed and denying her most of the length of the bedding, though she’d
managed to grab an available edge of a snowy sheet to hide her obvious
nudity as well as possible. Her efforts made a scant dent. Stretched
taut, the thing fabric barely reached the top of her breasts, leaving
pale shoulders and a creamy hip to gleam in the firelight.
The urge to conquer burning in her blood, Terreis experienced a
primitive burst of pure possessiveness. This woman was hers in every way
and she had every intention of laying her claim. No more doubts or
questions. From here forward it would be real. "You’re
dismissed," she informed her servants without looking at them. She
was distantly aware that they exited, but they were unimportant, the
only thing about them that mattered, the fact that they were no longer
there to serve as an impediment to her desires.
Dark eyes tracked her every move and Janet’s head tipped back on
her shoulders as she drew close to the bed.
Terreis’ gaze fell to touch on the bright gold bands encircling
narrow wrists. Primitive as the drive was, she could never have imagined
just how erotic it was to see such tangible evidence of her rights of
possession, and she couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and stroke
the velvety skin above and below warm metal.
Janet tensed, a soft gasp punctuating the tremor that rippled through
her.
Drawn by the rapid rise and fall of Janet’s chest, Terreis’ gaze
shifted touching on the expanse of creamy flesh the sheet couldn’t
hide. So perfect it was almost hard to look at her. "Remember what
it was like that night," she said very softly and curled long
fingers into the thin sheeting, "how right and good it felt."
Whatever their problems, physical incompatibility wasn’t among them.
"We can make it feel that right again tonight."
"Don’t do this," Janet pleaded, her voice low and
tremulous. "It’s wrong. You know that."
"You’re wrong," Terreis disagreed, her tone mild.
Despite any temptation to give way to the other woman’s fears, she had
no intention of backing down this time, not after the last week of sheer
torture. "What would be wrong is wanting you the way I do and doing
nothing about it," she whispered, taking control of the sheet in
spite of Janet’s efforts and pulling it free of her lover’s tight
grip. "What would be wrong is pretending you don’t belong naked
in my bed." Perfect breasts greeted her hungry gaze as she peeled
the cloth back from Janet’s chest. A few more inches revealed the
faint striation of ribs and taut abdominals. She saw a slender hand
start to reach to retrieve the sheet, intent on a tug of war, and shook
her head. "No."
Janet froze.
"Good girl," Terreis praised and pulled the fabric all the
way free to reveal the rest of her little slave’s body. Smoothly
curved hips, cleanly muscled thighs, and the faint indentation of her
pelvic girdle. She’d been a fool to wait so long, she thought she
began freeing the laces on the bodice of her gown, impatiently tugging
them loose with one hand as she reached out with the other to stroke a
smooth thigh.
Shaking with effort, Janet resisted the beginnings of pressure as a
strong thumb pressed against her inner thigh.
"Let me see," Terreis commanded, increasing the pressure.
Dark eyes slid closed. "I don’t want this."
"That’s why you’re trembling so hard, and your breath is
coming fast..." Terreis called Janet on her obvious lie while she
teased a swollen nipple, satisfied that she was doing the right thing by
the way it stiffened under her fingers, "...your breasts ready for
my touch..." She dropped her voice low. "Show me how wet you
are," she commanded, refusing to give ground, "how wet I’ve
made you."
"You haven’t--" Janet started to deny the charge and
Terreis cut her off, grinning ever so slightly.
"Then prove it to me." Her gaze sharpened as she challenged
her slave, "Show me and prove me wrong."
Janet shook her head, refusing to be baited.
A hint of a smile touched the queen’s lips. "You know I’m
going to find out one way or another," she reminded Janet. She put
still more pressure on Janet’s inner thigh. "Now let me
see." A beat while she petted a velvety thigh, her touch gentling.
"Just let me have a look," she coaxed.
It was the gentleness that seemed to undo Janet as, muscles
quivering, she slowly did as ordered, revealing another secret to
eagerly watching eyes.
Terreis’ pulse leapt as she stared at the dusting of closely
trimmed auburn hair that barely hid pink and swollen folds of flesh.
Like full breasts, this too was hers, and she ached to lay claim.
"Beautiful," she whispered as she yanked the laces on her
bodice free, then found the waist ties on her gown. "Tender and
succulent as the sweetest dewberries...and just as ready for the
plucking."
Despite the deep flush suffusing her cheeks and the way her breath
caught in response to Terreis’ suggestive remarks, Janet shook her
head. "No," she rasped, the single word tight and barely
audible.
"Are you telling me you aren’t aching?" Terreis
whispered, stroking auburn hair with a gentle hand. "That the
thought of what we’re going to do tonight doesn’t have your heart
pounding and your body throbbing for my touch.
"No," Janet said again in an effort to deny the obvious.
She reached for the sheet, clearly intending to cover herself again, but
Terreis grabbed the top edge and flung it to the foot of the bed, well
out of her prisoner’s reach. There were limits to her patience.
Dark eyes slid closed and the kneeling woman braced herself as if
expecting a blow.
Instead, Terreis simply sat on the edge of the bed. "It would be
easier if you would cooperate," she said conversationally, oddly
proud of her little slave for not breaking easily, but also aware that
she couldn’t afford to tolerate the defiance. It was past time for
Janet to understand that the only rights she possessed were those
Terreis chose to give her.
Her eyes snapping open again, Janet shook her head. "I won’t."
A soft sigh escaped the queen’s lips and she reached out, caressing
a smooth flank with slow strokes. Janet tried to push her hand away, but
she simply shifted her angle of attack, teasing the flat plain of her
prisoner’s stomach. "That won’t stop me," Terreis told
her, still using that same conversational tone. Her prisoner didn’t
reply this time, but taut muscle quivered and jumped under the queen’s
hand as she pointedly trailed it over soft skin until it rested on the
opposite curve of Janet’s hip. Leaning close enough to nuzzle the
curve of her jaw, she whispered, "Now lie down...and let me bury
myself in you ... like I did that first night."
Stiffening, Janet jerked back fractionally. "No," she said
a third time, refusing to be cowed.
Terreis couldn’t help but admire the woman’s courage, however,
she needed to learn that her recalcitrance would no longer be tolerated.
"You know I’m going to have what I want--"
"You’ll have to use force," Janet hissed.
A slow nod as the queen continued stroking that smooth hip.
"Maybe at first," she admitted. Janet could be stubborn as
hell, but she had her weaknesses. Initially lost in her own anger and
sense of betrayal, Terreis had questioned the sincerity of their first
night together, but looking back, she no longer doubted that the other
woman had been just as lost as she had been. And would be again. The
queen offered a wickedly knowing smile. "But I know your
body." Her eyes touched on full breasts and then her free hand was
touching as well, fingers trailing along the smooth slope, then circling
the coral tip, noting the physical response the other woman couldn’t
hide. "And it knows me," she pointed out with a degree of
triumph as she watched flesh tighten and pucker. "It remembers my
touch." Her fingers danced along the curve of Janet’s ribcage, a
smile touching her lips as she saw the goosebumps that raised in their
wake. "My kisses." Neatly trimmed curls brushed her palm as
she continued her slow, exploring journey. "The feel of my body
pressed close." Her voice dropped low as she cupped silky flesh,
unable to resist the temptation to ease a finger past swollen folds. Her
smile broadened and a tiny exhalation of laughter escaped her lips as
she found the way was made easy by thick moisture. "The feel of my
tongue." She stroked, finding and circling the shape of a slick,
swollen bud.
A whimpery moan escaped Janet’s lips and her hands tightened into
fists as she pulled uselessly at the chains binding her to the
headboard. "Don’t," she hissed.
Another circling stroke brought a tiny buck from slender hips.
"Your body says otherwise," Terreis pointed out. Another
stroke brought on another tiny thrust. "It knows its master ... and
pleads to be taken again."
Teeth gritted, Janet just shook her head.
"Your defiance does you proud," Terreis admitted, nuzzling
her prisoner’s neck and shoulder as she delved deeper into silky folds
of flesh to capture the taut bundles of nerves between her thumb and
forefinger. "But you should know it only makes you more
appealing ... and me more determined to have you." A slow,
firm squeeze brought a low gasping whimper that made Terreis chuckle
triumphantly. "Though you will have to be punished for resisting
your mistress."
Dazed and confused, Janet could only stare.
"Don’t worry," Terreis soothed, and squeezed again, very
lightly, just enough to draw another moan. "It won’t involve pain
... just surrender." She nipped Janet’s shoulder softly, then
dropped her voice low as she promised, "You’ll beg before I’m
through with you." And then suddenly she was moving, the hand on
Janet’s hip sliding around and under, the one buried in her sex moving
to her opposite hip. What came next happened in one smooth move that
came too quickly to allow Janet a chance to resist. Muscles flexing,
Terreis lifted and pulled, dragging Janet’s lower body toward the foot
of the bed, forcing her cuffed hands up over her head and elongating the
graceful arch of her body. She pushed slender thighs apart when they
moved to close her out and slid into place between them, denying her
slave any chance to block her from what she desired.
The outlander instinctively tried to kick and twist free, but her
efforts were neatly blocked as Terreis knelt between writhing legs,
hands hooked under slender thighs.
Redoubling her grip, Terreis leaned forward, brushing her lips over
the heaving plane of her slave’s chest, riding out her struggles. The
flavor of sweat and female flesh filled her senses, making her body
throb and ache. "Stop fighting me," she ordered, punctuating
the command with a tiny nip delivered to a puckered nipple.
A soft, needy cry sparked the air as Janet’s body arched to meet
Terreis’ mouth.
"Unless you don’t want me to stop," the queen mused aloud
as she continued to range kisses and tiny nibbling bites over the
smaller woman’s chest. "Maybe you like fighting me ... and being
conquered..." She knew there were more than a few women who enjoyed
such fantasies. Perhaps the outlander was among them. The thought made
her pulse race and started a sympathetic throb deep down inside. Maybe
her ancestors had had the right idea after all. Perhaps there was a time
to simply lay claim to a desired mate.
"No," Janet gasped, but her body writhed as though she was
a marionette and Terreis the puppetmaster controlling the strings.
"Th-that’s not what I want," she stammered even as sweat
prickled on her skin and her hips rolled in a sensual rhythm.
"I think you’re lying," Terreis murmured as she worked
her way lower on Janet’s body, her lips dusting anywhere and
everywhere she cared to go. Sliding her hands around to cup to the
underside of Janet’s hips, she held on tightly enough to indent soft
flesh ever so slightly, lifting and pulling. "I think it excites
you to know I’m going to take you--"
"That’s not true," Janet croaked again, but Terreis
continued implacably, her breath playing over Janet’s abdomen as she
made her way lower, the teasing caress of hot air making her stomach
muscles ripple and quiver.
"--and I think it excites you to be like this--"
"No," the denial was a weak whimper this time, as though
Janet barely had enough air in lungs to even make that much sound.
"Liar," Terreis exhaled, her breath fluttering over silky
curls. "I felt your arousal and I can smell it ... and in another
moment I’ll taste it."
"No," Janet insisted a final time, but the word trailed off
into a soft cry as Terreis buried her mouth in silky flesh, lips moving,
tongue flicking rapidly as it slid over such an intimate landscape. The
outlander’s entire body spasmed, and she wrapped her hands in the
chains binding them over her head, clinging tightly, her back twisted
into a sharp arch. She pressed her heels flat to the mattress,
instinctively pushing her body to meet Terreis’ mouth.
Blue eyes tipped up, taking in the sight of the writhing, moaning
woman, drinking in the sweet triumph. Maybe in the light of day, she’d
feel a measure of disdain for what she was doing --certainly she’d
long disapproved of those ancestors who’d done much the same -- but in
the dark of night with the taste of heated flesh filling her senses and
the promise of twined bodies filling her thoughts, it was the most
decadent form of pure pleasure. "You’re mine," she breathed.
"Accept it."
Her movements jerky, Janet shook her head, refusing to give way.
Terreis was almost glad because it meant she could stretch the sweet
torture even longer. "I have to admit I was hoping we could play
all night." Her smile was absolutely wicked. "If you’re up
to it." She bit Janet’s inner thigh softly, laying claim.
"Because until you beg, there won’t be any release." And
then she was surrounded by the feel and scent of sex again as she buried
her mouth in silky flesh, tongue flicking quickly, toying with the
center of Janet’s pleasure, while her fingers were surrounded by slick
heat as she pressed two deep into her prisoner’s body to have them
clutched and held by rippling muscle.
A hard tremor shook the outlander and her heels dug into the mattress
as she arched into the quicksilver strokes and thrust her hips to meet
the slow-moving penetration.
Soft, then hard, slow, then fast, Terreis kept things completely
unpredictable, driving Janet’s passion until her breathing was ragged,
her skin gleaming with sweat, every muscle standing out in sharp relief,
her soft, incoherent cries a symphony of background music for their
lovemaking. And then every time the hard throb under her tongue or the
rhythmic clench of interior muscles indicated Janet was too close to
climaxing, she pulled back or slowed down, not quite letting her lover
and slave have what her body craved so desperately. The pause was
invariably coupled with an offer of relief if Janet just surrendered,
and followed by an ever more strangled refusal to give way.
Pushed too far arousal can border on pain, and as Terreis lost
herself in the power battle between them, her body slid from pleasantly
aroused to achingly so to a level of need that bordered on agonizing.
She could only guess what it was like for Janet as she looked up, unable
to tear her eyes from the sight of her slave, her muscles in sharp
relief, skin glossy with sweat and glowing gold in the firelight, her
hair turned to damp ringlets of fire, her eyes glazed and lost. Unable
to resist the urge to taste and explore, Terreis slid back up the length
of her lover’s body, tasting the salty tang of sweat where it lay on
fine skin and feeling the way flesh and muscle trembled under her lips.
"Why do you fight me so?" she whispered when they were finally
eye to eye, bodies dovetailed intimately together.
Blinking as if she was fighting to regain some measure of
consciousness, Janet refocused on Terreis with obvious effort, but
offered no further struggles. "Because if I don’t," she
panted, every breath a ragged rasp, "I’m afraid there won’t be
anything left of me."
Stroking a softly rounded cheek with her thumb, Terreis couldn’t
look away from the confused, lost expression in brown eyes. "You
make it sound like I’m trying to destroy you," she whispered,
shaking her head. That wasn’t her intention at all. She just needed
Janet to understand and accept her new life and position.
Her comment earned a soft snort. "Aren’t you?" Janet
accused quietly.
"No," Terreis denied the charge instantly, her stomach
churning at the mere idea. Another soft stroke of her prisoner’s cheek
reminded her just how soft the other woman’s skin was, and just how
much pleasure the interrogator would have taken in shredding such
beauty. That was destruction. What she wanted was nothing like that sort
of cruelty, but if she couldn’t conquer Janet she might have no choice
but to destroy her rather than allow her to destroy others. "You
may not understand," she glanced away, faintly ashamed of herself
in spite of her justifications, "but destroying you is the last
thing I want." The kiss that followed was soft, even tender.
"But I must rule you to save you ... and I cannot allow you to rule
me." There lay the heart of the matter, Terreis realized with some
trepidation. If she allowed it, she feared she could lose her soul to
this woman and betray her people in the doing. Better to conquer Janet
Fraiser than risk having to choose between the two things she cared for
most.
That thought sent such a tremor through the queen that she barely
heard Janet start to speak.
A frown creasing her brow, Janet shook her head. "I’m not
trying to---"
Fearing she’d revealed too much of her fears, Terreis kissed the
other woman more firmly, not giving her a chance to think even as her
hands slid lower, stroking with authority. She trapped a slender thigh
between her own, gasping as it rode against damp, swollen flesh.
No more games, she realized in an instant. She’d already stretched
things out longer than she should have in the quest for some measure of
surrender. "Shhh," Terreis breathed as Janet whimpered, and
squirmed beneath her. "It’ll be all right." The next kisses
were more soothing than passionate, the caresses she laid on silky flesh
meant to deliver much-needed relief.
Whimpering softly, Janet turned her face into Terreis’ shoulder,
her entire body surging in time with her lover’s strokes, grinding
into and moving with perfectly matched curves. Even without the words
Terreis would have preferred, her total submission -- at least in that
moment -- was inescapable. The struggle between them was by no means
over, and they’d both earned points in the first round, but the queen
was the clear winner at the end of the match.
Curling a hand to the back of Janet’s head, fingers threaded into
coppery hair, Terreis drew her lover’s head back and found her lips,
toying with them even as she took command. With her other hand she
circled, then squeezed very gently, drinking in the answering gasp and
absorbing the sharp lurch with her body. Another dose of soft, rolling
pressure brought Janet’s hips up off the mattress as a rough groan
escaped her lips and a fresh flood of thick moisture eased the way for
exploring fingers.
Pushing deep, Terreis felt the slick, heated grip of inner muscles
that flexed and rippled around her fingers. Pulling almost free, she
pressed again, deeper this time and with a third finger to join the
first two, drinking in the low moan brought by the deep thrust.
Hers. Janet was hers, and nothing would change that now.
She pulled back and thrust again, fingers buried in her lover’s
body, palm cupping the sensual heart of her, intensely aware of the
sheer intimacy of the act and the sense of possession that slid through
her.
Unwanted, Maya’s whispered suggestions began beating a throbbing
drumbeat in her head. To be all the way inside of Janet, lay claim in
the most visceral of ways while slick flesh wrapped around her hand.
Such things were possible. Maya had suggested it to cause pain, but
gently done it could spark pleasure as well.
And Terreis wanted it. She wanted to be as far inside her slave as
was possible, farther than anyone before her, their bodies bound so
tightly together it could never be completely undone.
She wanted to lay claim not just with locks and chains, but with
flesh and bone.
And with Janet stretched out and bound, helpless to resist, her body
already soft and slick and welcoming, it was temptation beyond belief.
She could do it. Push and curl, then push deeper still. It wouldn’t be
difficult. She worked her fingers inside her lover’s body, massaging
and stretching, spreading the cushioning pad of moisture, instinctively
preparing the other woman for what suddenly seemed like the next logical
step.
Janet moaned, her mouth open under Terreis’, her body rising to
meet the invader’s touch as if inviting Terreis to do the very thing
she fantasized about.
As if she wanted that final conquering that would mark her as Terreis’
property at the most visceral level.
The next thrust was harder with some muscle behind it, eagerness
making the queen rougher than she realized until she felt a sharp wince.
Dark eyes snapped wide and Terreis tasted a startled gasp.
Pain or surprise, it was impossible to tell, but either way it wasn’t
positive.
No.
Instantly, the queen backed off, her touch gentling, fingers
retreating, then stroking soothingly as she fluttered the softest of
kisses around the cupid’s bow of Janet’s lips. "It’s all
right," she breathed between butterfly soft caresses. "I’ll
take care of you."
Their gazes locked and held. "I know," Janet exhaled, the
statement seeming to catch both of them by surprise.
For a long moment all thoughts of conquering and taking and owning
were forgotten and they were just lovers lost in each other. Terreis
tenderly smoothed coppery hair back from Janet’s brow, throat bobbing
as she swallowed hard, nearly overwhelmed by a thousand emotions she
barely understood. Whatever the price, this was where they both
belonged.
And then the sweet ache coursing through their bodies demanded
attention, refusing to be denied any longer. Terreis’ fingers danced a
teasing waltz with the softest and sleekest of flesh while Janet’s
knee rose, pressing, grinding, and moving in a wanton counterpoint to
Terreis’s thrusts.
Electricity arced over every nerve ending, the pleasure overwhelming
in its intensity. Terreis cried out into the mouth bound to her own.
In the end, both lovers managed equal measures of victory and defeat.
Janet gave no surrender, denying Terreis that measure of total
ownership, but her body heaved and trembled under the queen’s touch as
though commanded by god to obey its new mistress. Though physically
lost, she won her own kind of battle by bringing her mistress with her
as she climaxed. Bodies bucked, coming together, hard tremors shaking
them both, pleasure sparking and running along overworked nerve endings.
And in the final moment, Terreis pushed up on one elbow, watching the
myriad of expressions that made their way across Janet’s face,
fascinated by the complex play of emotion. Then as the peak slid on by,
dark eyes slid open, staring up at her with an achingly soft look that
made her want to hold and cherish the woman sharing her bed, threatening
to undo the reserves of distrust Janet’s attempted escape had
engendered. The queen stroked honey colored hair, her heart literally
melting as Janet instinctively turned her cheek into the tender caress.
It would be so easy to simply let go and fall in love with her, so
easy to become the slave while the slave became the master.
Blue eyes slid closed and she ground her molars until her jaw hurt.
And that was a risk Terreis could not take. The woman’s body was
hers, but the queen could not risk her heart. Janet had already tricked
her once, and possibly come close to killing her. For the sake of
Arrathonea, Terreis couldn’t let herself fall into the trap of those
eyes, no matter how tempting the idea might be.
Janet was her slave and likely her enemy. She couldn’t risk letting
her think she might be more than that. She’d already proven what would
happen the moment Terreis showed her any trust.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a chilly cast to the blue,
her expression showing satisfied lust, but none of the affection she was
feeling. Much as she wanted to cuddle and enjoy the warm afterglow of
their joining, it suddenly didn’t feel safe. She couldn’t quite
forget the way Janet had called out to the outlanders, nor could she
allow herself to forget it. Tension rippled through her muscles when all
she wanted to do was relax into a satiated puddle of pure pleasure. She
suddenly realized brown eyes were watching her closely and she offered a
wry smile. "Very well done, little outlander." The queen
cringed inside, but didn’t let it show as she saw hurt reflected in
dark eyes. Cruel as it was, she drove the point home, stroking silky
lips with the pad of her thumb, her smile knowing and sensual. "I
knew you could do it."
A hard hiss was driven through tightly clenched teeth as Janet
abruptly tensed, muscles rippling with effort as she tried to use the
chains binding her to the headboard to lever herself up on the bed and
away from Terreis.
The queen instantly tightened her hold on the other woman, refusing
to release her, and there was a brief tug of war before Janet accepted
she wasn’t going to win and stopped fighting. She didn’t relax, but
lay there, teeth gritted, staring up at Terreis with an expression that
held equal measures of hurt and anger.
"Don’t bother trying to pull away from me." Stroking the
curve of Janet’s waist, Terreis shook her head. "I’ll never let
you go," she promised seriously.
Janet’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her mouth worked and
she seemed about to say something, but the words didn’t come, and
finally she turned her head away, eyes tightly closed. As Terreis
watched, a single tear escaped the corner of one eye and trailed back
into the silky hair at her temple.
In spite of her resolve to remain distant, the queen’s heart
softened. Gentling her touch, she ducked her head to dust butterfly
kisses over Janet’s cheeks and closed eyelids, tasting the salt of her
tears. "T
That night scares Sam that she gave way to Janet, and makes her more
determined not to become emotionally involved/dependant.
From there, the relationship is largely about sex with Sam fending
off any attempts to deepen things or increase the trust between them.
She’s gentle with Janet, but careful not to trust, and afraid of
losing herself again, she’s careful to keep a wall between them. The
sex is ever more intense, and it’s inferred more than a little kinky
at times.
********************************
Sam was never cruel, never caused pain, but often she walked right up
to that line, pushing Janet until sweat slid over her skin and her
muscles trembled from the strain, utterly relentless until she attained
the surrender she needed. And though Janet needed to believe that Sam
would stop if she truly cried out in pain or fear, she’d come to
understand that simple refusals would be ignored in favor of the need to
draw pleading whimpers and helpless thrusts.
And Janet had to admit that she always succumbed. No matter how firm
her resolve that ‘this time’ would be different, it never was. It
might start with a measure of force, her struggles carefully contained
by Sam’s superior strength and weight, but then Sam’s voice would
slide over her skin while her hands explored and probed, making way for
her mouth.
Her mouth.
On the rare occasion that nothing else could bring Janet to heel,
that was guaranteed to shatter any resolve to resist the potent
chemistry between them. Even when she managed to refuse to say the
words, her body made it obvious what it craved, namely the unpredictable
sandpaper and silk caresses that took her to heaven in a thousand
different ways; rough then tender, fast then slow, taking command of her
body with every stroke, then exploring and staking a claim to every inch
of her flesh with a stubborn refusal to be denied.
Sam went about it all with her usual determination, seeming to glory
in finding all new erogenous zones that way, using her lips and tongue
to explore soft curves with the attention to detail of a master
cartographer laying out the ultimate map of the world. And when she was
satisfied that she’d taken control of her lover’s needs---sometimes
within only moments, other times after hours of torturous pleasure---she’d
slide into the most sensitive erogenous zone of all.
If possession was nine-tenths of the law, then Janet couldn’t help
but wonder if she still belonged to herself or if she’d truly become
Sam’s property because when lips, teeth, and tongue found the heart of
her desire, she could never hold back. She might fight the need, but
ultimately, she always cried out and arched into the sweet torment.
Sometimes what followed was sweet, sometimes it was wicked, and often
it was a strange melding of the two that left them both satiated in the
moment, but hungry for more. When it came to the physical, there were
limits, but they were few and far between, certainly fewer and farther
than Janet could ever have predicted.
Strange that something so limitlessly variable when it came to one
aspect of their relationship could be so utterly and completely closed
off when it came to another.
They never really talked, never opened their hearts and minds in the
hours before, during, or after.
Standing on the balcony and staring out at the world, Janet resisted
the urge to cry as she thought about the times she’d tried to reach
Sam only to have soft lips kiss away her efforts to talk, and talented
fingers toy with her body until speech was beyond her abilities. In
gaining the commanding lover, she’d lost the loyal friend, and she
missed that woman more than she knew how to express. When the world had
crashed around her in the past, Sam had always been there to pick up the
pieces, and the loss of that support system at a time when she needed it
desperately left Janet Fraiser feeling adrift and painfully alone. She
had needs that sex, no matter how intense, simply did not assuage. She
didn’t want Terreis. She wanted Sam; wanted to just curl up in the
safety of the other woman’s arms and cry her heart out, knowing that
she would be protected and cared for. She wanted her friend and some
sympathy and to just enjoy the hours of talking about anything and
everything that had always been such a cornerstone of their
relationship. Something had to give or she wasn’t entirely certain how
much longer she could hang on to herself and her feelings for the other
woman. She had long loved and desired Sam, but was becoming afraid that
as much as her body craved "Terreis" she might well wind up
hating the other woman for demanding such total surrender and giving so
little emotional succor in return.
She was still standing like that, hunting for some path that might
bring a measure of peace when she heard the sound of the doors to Sam’s
chambers followed by the muffled timbre of voices.
Her highness was home for the day.
Janet’s teeth ground and her eyes flashed with defiance.
Which meant it was time for another round of the darkly erotic game
being played between them because Janet had no doubt exactly where they
would wind up before the night was through. In spite of her simmering
resentment and quiet rage over the situation, much of it at their
captors, but all too much directed at Sam herself, she felt her body
respond to the knowledge that hands and lips would soon be sliding over
and inside. Some days it all seemed like something out of a bad sex
fantasy, but like it or not, she couldn’t seem to hold back. She’d
wanted Sam too much for too long, and god help her, there did seem to be
something in her that responded to the edgy, dangerous sensuality of
their lovemaking. God, had all of this been hidden inside Sam for all
these years? Or was it just a product of their situation?
Neither answer seemed to wholly explain the strange, yet potent
chemistry between them, leaving her to think maybe it was a matter of
both; too many years of denial coupled with too much temptation and too
much power.
It was, she supposed, the sort of thing likely to make anyone a
little crazy.
Herself included, because she wasn’t sure she was any saner than
Sam and she didn’t even have the excuse of being brainwashed.
She was still musing on the irony of it all when she heard the sound
of the doors onto the balcony opening, then closing again, and then the
soft pad of footsteps. The hands that curved to her shoulders from
behind were no surprise, nor were the soft lips that toyed with soft
flesh where her neck flowed into the curve of her shoulder. Janet didn’t
jump, but she remained tense, unwilling to relax her self control so
quickly.
"So proud and stubborn," Sam whispered, her breath playing
over smooth flesh, her tone affectionate. She smoothed her hands up and
down Janet’s arms, rubbing lightly.
Janet twitched free of the loose hold, which earned an annoyed snort.
She knew exactly what would happen next. Sam would reach for her again,
then free her chains from where they were latched to the balcony
railing, and then hours of raw, soul searing sex. She caught sight of
her lover’s movement out of the corner of one eye and her hand came up
in a halting motion before she could think better of it. She heard Sam’s
soft growl of displeasure and spun, peering up at the other woman. She
didn’t have any plans, just an irresistible sense that something had
to change.
Sam took another half step forward, tension running through her
muscles as she ran into the faint barrier of Janet’s still raised
hand.
"Wait," Janet whispered, racing to be ahead of the hands
she knew would soon reach for her.
A hint of a frown creasing her brow, Sam froze, though the beginnings
of impatience glittered in her eyes. Clearly she was expecting another
effort to delay the inevitable.
"I need..." Janet paused, hunting for a way to express
herself, but couldn’t find the right words, "something," she
muttered at last, well aware she wasn’t making much sense, but unable
to phrase it any better.
The impatience fading from her expression, Sam’s frown deepened.
"What? If you have need of something, you only need to tell
me."
Janet’s hand was braced on Sam’s chest and she purposely relaxed
her fingers, shaping them to the gentle curves and smoothing the pad of
her thumb lightly against the velvety fabric. She let her gaze fall,
watching her own hand for a long moment. She’d touched Sam that way
more than once at the SGC, allowing herself that little bit of contact
during the times when she’d wanted the other woman so fiercely she’d
barely known what to do, all the while knowing she couldn’t afford to
ever let it show. It had been a safe bit of comfort at times when she’d
needed something and couldn’t risk asking for more. Only she needed
more now.
And not the more that was the blending of naked flesh.
She needed the gentleness and comfort, the spark of ideas, and the
confidence of a supportive friend. Before she’d needed what she had
now and now she needed what she’d had then.
"Janet?" Sam prompted when she still hadn’t spoken a long
moment later.
She looked up, focusing on Sam, taking in the worried cast to her
expression. That look felt right and familiar, making her long for her
friend all the more. God, she missed Samantha Carter. "I was just
wondering if we could talk," she whispered at last.
Her expression suddenly shuttered, Sam reached up to toy with the
hair at Janet’s temple, twirling the silky strands around her
fingertips. "About what?" she asked so carefully it was
impossible to miss the suspicion in her tone.
Her gaze flicking back down to her hand where it rested on Sam’s
chest, Janet felt the pressure of the other woman’s distrust
threatening to make her stammer nervously. "Anything," she
whispered, looking up quickly when she felt the other woman tense.
"I just mean that I miss talking about things...ideas...having
someone to share things with..."
Sam clearly doubted her honesty. "A slave’s purpose isn’t
discussion...and ideas aren’t what you’re in my service to
share," she pointed out dryly.
Reminded of both her status and
Sam offers to talk if Janet will give herself completely to
Sam...Janet counters that she acn’t do that. Sam offers to take Janet
on a trip she’s planning, just until then...and they’ll talk on the
trip. Janet makes rule no sex, just talking. Sam takes it.
"It’s your body I’m hungry for,"Sam growled
At first Sam is suspicious, but as they talk, recognizes the wisdom
of what Janet is saying, and continues the discussion long into the
night. Janet grows more stressed, and visibly expects to be dragged to
Sam's bed when it's time to turn in, but Sam sends her to own bed with
no more than a seductive kiss. The next several nights follow the same
pattern, long talks, followed by a kiss and perhaps a caress or two, but
no lovemaking. It's straining both of them ....and keeping hormones
jangled, but Sam is determined to wait this time.
Finally, during one discussion, Janet expresses her doubts that there
are any attackers, and that Valchon had any sons to die in combat. She'd
seen the condition of water, power, the farms and it was execrable. No
one needed to attack to stop them from functioning, and she thinks
Valchon lied to manipulate the situation and avoid punishment for
ignoring her commands. The accusation angers Sam, and she's determined
to prove Janet wrong.
Sam takes Janet to a water plant that was supposedly recently
attacked (Janet notes they exit the city through a different route than
she took, one that's been upgraded and repaired ... a sort of Potemkin
street). An assassin tries to kill Sam and Janet steps into the way of
the arrow, which pierces her shoulder. Sam is scratched by the arrow,
but Janet is badly injured, and realizes that the arrow was poisoned as
the toxic reaction sets in almost instantly. Sam holds Janet as she's
passing out. Convinced she's dying, Janet manages to tell Sam who she is