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Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (100b/109b)
Date: 2016-09-01 12:27 am (UTC)Cloelius stays silent, then turns on his toes--grind of dirt under his boot--and stalks back out the door. Lucinda tips up her bowl and tries to shake the stew into her mouth without utensils.
“Who was that?” the girl asks, when the door slams shut behind Cloelius.
“Asshole I fucked too many times,” Lucinda replies. “Didn't realize the mistake I was making until I got away.” She turns back around, pushes her dishes forward for the girl to take. “Check out the guys you’re gonna sleep with before you sleep with them, and make sure they aren’t gonna do that.” She nods at the now-closed door, lowers her chin and keeps her face empty as she looks back to the girl.
The girl nods, and something hard flashes behind her eyes.
The deserter is quiet all day, and so is the spy.
So she lays on her bench and studies the ceiling and thinks.
Strix, Vulpes, Cloelius, her husband, Lanius, Caesar, each of them rolling behind her eyes. It’s easy to think of some of them dying--Vulpes with his limbs taken off, bleeding out, fed to the coyotes like he made that fucking hat from; her husband fed to his dogs; Lanius burning on a pyre, unable to do anything but scream and beg and bargain; Caesar, hung from a cross in view of all the slaves he would have had hung, Cloelius shamed, stabbed in the street, pinned to a wall with knives until he bleeds out into the gutter.
Strix fed to Aphra, as Aphra does tricks, does as she's asked, turns circles and speaks and tears into him as he screams, screams, screams, as he knows what it's like to be afraid.
She dozes in and out of that daydream all day, smile on her lips and eyebrows pulled down.