( it's koriand'r's fault. she knows dick will tell her it isn't, when he's finally allowed out of the ring. he'll smile that way he does when he wants to deflect attention from himself, brush it off like it's something he was trained for, no big deal. it didn't even hurt, your highness.
he will be lying. kori knows it, can see it in the way his muscles strain, the corded tendons in his neck, the grit of his teeth. he won't give an inch, her slave, won't show distress when it could reflect poorly on her, but he's hurting and she can see it and it's her fault. if she'd just seen what komand'r was angling for sooner, been more clever, she could have steered them away from this. but her sister is shrewd, and koriand'r could not afford to lose face, not like this, in front of so many others. affection for one's slave is not uncommon, but one cannot treat them as more than pets. they are expendable, and one must treat them as such. to do otherwise would betray weakness of spirit, a chink in the armor, exploitable tenderness that koriand'r cannot afford to show. and so dick must suffer, because she is such a terrible queen she can't even control her own planet.
kori watches the pit without speaking, even as others make comments to her, around her. komand'r smiles at her from across the pit, her eyes sharp, and kori clenches her hands into fists. energy crackles through her, simmering just below her skin, and it would take so little effort to blast her sister through a wall, grab dick and flee — but it would be just what komand'r wants. so kori breathes, and she watches, and she waits.
the match finishes, and kori takes measured steps to the entrance of the ring, waiting for dick to exit. when he does, she gives him a once over before letting out a disappointed-sounding sigh and turning from him. )
You disappoint me, Nightwing. A slave is a reflection on his mistress — and what a poor reflection you make. ( now her hand snakes out, quick as a whip, and she grabs his chin, dragging his head up to look at her. ) You will not disappoint me again.
( she lets the words linger for a moment before she drops his chin and looks around her. her guests are watching them with interest — as is komand'r, though to all other observers she would appear to be congratulating her own slave. komand'r's eyes, though, are intent on kori and her slave, and she knows that they can't afford to leave now. not with so many eyes on them, not with her sister watching them like a hawk.
in the end, kori manages to extricate them from the gathering after only half an hour. she sweeps out of the room, dick at her heel, and the closer she gets to her own quarters the harder her hands shake. once they're inside her room she slams the door shut, leaning against it heavily for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart and trembling limbs. when she looks back to dick, her eyes don't meet his. )
( dick prefers to lose even if the competitor inside him loathes it -- it's easier for him, in the end, being the victim instead of the aggressor. life has trained him to be capable of any number of horrific sexual things, but at the end of the day dick is a good person, one who struggles with hurting people, no matter how far it might help his reason for existing. sex. he arches wantonly, he moans when it's asked of him -- he struggles and puts up a good play of fighting, but in the end it's an act, one for the pleasure of hundreds of tamarians, to see a pretty body defiled and raped, while they sip their wines and fuck their pets. it's easy as breathing, taking it -- pretending to enjoy it, acting like it feels good.
it doesn't, though. he hangs his head and shuts his eyes, thinking of koriand'r's smile to help him reach climax, finding the rest of the act to brutish to get off on. he's sticky between his legs when he meets koriand'r, not permitted to wipe away the release of his assaultant and letting it dry tacky as the night progresses, clinging to his tanned skin and showing in the light, notable to anyone who looks at him for more than a second. his muscles ache, his body hurts, he feels humiliated and laughed at -- spit on like an object, but her words hurt worse than any molestation, any bit of cruelty that could come from any corner of this arena. kori is disappointed ( she's faking it, he knows ), bruce would be disappointed, jason and tim would have a laugh at how stupid he is. a good slave would fail and be gluttonous for punishment, knowing their place and what they deserve -- dick, as it stands, just wants to please koriand'r, finding himself incapable of doing it.
he spends the rest of the event chained to the ground at the queen's feet, kissing her ankles or her open palms when they're shown to her -- apologetically, pressing achey and bruised lips on her fair, orange skin, unworthy in every way a slave could be, for a mistress as fine as her. he'll have to win the next tourney, his stomach churns to think, he'll have to please her public persona. maybe if he just wins every time, he won't have to force her to be so cruel -- and would she be happy, then? to be her kind self, to watch as dick has his way through any countless numbers of slaves so he can lie with his princess, and not feel the lingering sting of where a harsh hand grabbed his chin. would that be the best outcome?
yes, probably, he admits, keeping his head down in shame as he follows her obediently. the pain gets swallowed, each step a burn but he tries to keep his footing square, to avoid mockery on koriand'r before him. he is a poor reflection, he keeps thinking throughout the night -- there had been no exaggeration in her words then. he would do her a service in being wild, bloodthirsty, and yet tamed under her heel. and he would be.
he smiles as she asks, dangling a chain from around his neck that connects his two wrists. )
I feel no pain, Highness. ( he softens, taking a step forward to console her before thinking better on it, minding his place. ) Only ... regret, that you were -- you know. Affected by my bad behavior.
( just as expected, dick deflects, and kori sighs. she wants more than anything for him to complete the motion he made, step up to her and wrap her up in his arms. she's not the one who was in the pit, however, and she won't allow herself to act as though she was — she is merely feeling the shame and guilt of being unable to protect what is hers, dick is the one feeling true pain. )
You don't have to lie in here, Dick, ( she says eventually, voice soft, and she reaches a hand out to his cheek, cupping it in her palm. his skin is pale, milky white next to her sun-kissed orange, and where she found it unnerving at first, now she sees the beauty. he isn't as fragile as he appears, but he is fragile next to tamaraneans, and it's her responsibility to protect him from the worst of them, to stand between him and her sister and her ilk and do all she can to ensure his safety. she failed in that today.
after a moment, kori drops her hand and instead takes dick's own, leading him slowly to the bed — where she had been walking with a long, purposeful stride to get into her chambers, now that they're in them she moves slowly, mindful of the ways dick must be sore. )
Lay down, if you please. I will be right back.
( there's no way to make up for this, nothing she can say or do to make the sting of her own inability any easier to bear. but she can give dick this: a moment, a night where he is the one taken care of. )
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he will be lying. kori knows it, can see it in the way his muscles strain, the corded tendons in his neck, the grit of his teeth. he won't give an inch, her slave, won't show distress when it could reflect poorly on her, but he's hurting and she can see it and it's her fault. if she'd just seen what komand'r was angling for sooner, been more clever, she could have steered them away from this. but her sister is shrewd, and koriand'r could not afford to lose face, not like this, in front of so many others. affection for one's slave is not uncommon, but one cannot treat them as more than pets. they are expendable, and one must treat them as such. to do otherwise would betray weakness of spirit, a chink in the armor, exploitable tenderness that koriand'r cannot afford to show. and so dick must suffer, because she is such a terrible queen she can't even control her own planet.
kori watches the pit without speaking, even as others make comments to her, around her. komand'r smiles at her from across the pit, her eyes sharp, and kori clenches her hands into fists. energy crackles through her, simmering just below her skin, and it would take so little effort to blast her sister through a wall, grab dick and flee — but it would be just what komand'r wants. so kori breathes, and she watches, and she waits.
the match finishes, and kori takes measured steps to the entrance of the ring, waiting for dick to exit. when he does, she gives him a once over before letting out a disappointed-sounding sigh and turning from him. )
You disappoint me, Nightwing. A slave is a reflection on his mistress — and what a poor reflection you make. ( now her hand snakes out, quick as a whip, and she grabs his chin, dragging his head up to look at her. ) You will not disappoint me again.
( she lets the words linger for a moment before she drops his chin and looks around her. her guests are watching them with interest — as is komand'r, though to all other observers she would appear to be congratulating her own slave. komand'r's eyes, though, are intent on kori and her slave, and she knows that they can't afford to leave now. not with so many eyes on them, not with her sister watching them like a hawk.
in the end, kori manages to extricate them from the gathering after only half an hour. she sweeps out of the room, dick at her heel, and the closer she gets to her own quarters the harder her hands shake. once they're inside her room she slams the door shut, leaning against it heavily for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart and trembling limbs. when she looks back to dick, her eyes don't meet his. )
Are you injured?
no subject
it doesn't, though. he hangs his head and shuts his eyes, thinking of koriand'r's smile to help him reach climax, finding the rest of the act to brutish to get off on. he's sticky between his legs when he meets koriand'r, not permitted to wipe away the release of his assaultant and letting it dry tacky as the night progresses, clinging to his tanned skin and showing in the light, notable to anyone who looks at him for more than a second. his muscles ache, his body hurts, he feels humiliated and laughed at -- spit on like an object, but her words hurt worse than any molestation, any bit of cruelty that could come from any corner of this arena. kori is disappointed ( she's faking it, he knows ), bruce would be disappointed, jason and tim would have a laugh at how stupid he is. a good slave would fail and be gluttonous for punishment, knowing their place and what they deserve -- dick, as it stands, just wants to please koriand'r, finding himself incapable of doing it.
he spends the rest of the event chained to the ground at the queen's feet, kissing her ankles or her open palms when they're shown to her -- apologetically, pressing achey and bruised lips on her fair, orange skin, unworthy in every way a slave could be, for a mistress as fine as her. he'll have to win the next tourney, his stomach churns to think, he'll have to please her public persona. maybe if he just wins every time, he won't have to force her to be so cruel -- and would she be happy, then? to be her kind self, to watch as dick has his way through any countless numbers of slaves so he can lie with his princess, and not feel the lingering sting of where a harsh hand grabbed his chin. would that be the best outcome?
yes, probably, he admits, keeping his head down in shame as he follows her obediently. the pain gets swallowed, each step a burn but he tries to keep his footing square, to avoid mockery on koriand'r before him. he is a poor reflection, he keeps thinking throughout the night -- there had been no exaggeration in her words then. he would do her a service in being wild, bloodthirsty, and yet tamed under her heel. and he would be.
he smiles as she asks, dangling a chain from around his neck that connects his two wrists. )
I feel no pain, Highness. ( he softens, taking a step forward to console her before thinking better on it, minding his place. ) Only ... regret, that you were -- you know. Affected by my bad behavior.
no subject
You don't have to lie in here, Dick, ( she says eventually, voice soft, and she reaches a hand out to his cheek, cupping it in her palm. his skin is pale, milky white next to her sun-kissed orange, and where she found it unnerving at first, now she sees the beauty. he isn't as fragile as he appears, but he is fragile next to tamaraneans, and it's her responsibility to protect him from the worst of them, to stand between him and her sister and her ilk and do all she can to ensure his safety. she failed in that today.
after a moment, kori drops her hand and instead takes dick's own, leading him slowly to the bed — where she had been walking with a long, purposeful stride to get into her chambers, now that they're in them she moves slowly, mindful of the ways dick must be sore. )
Lay down, if you please. I will be right back.
( there's no way to make up for this, nothing she can say or do to make the sting of her own inability any easier to bear. but she can give dick this: a moment, a night where he is the one taken care of. )