Denial II, Chapter 4, Let the Games Begin
Title: Denial II, Chapter 4: Let the Games Begin
Author: perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Vaizey, Guy, Marian
Rating: PG-13
Genre: drama
Words: 790
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place during an AU 2x13. Introduction and chapter links for Denial II are here...
Summary: Vaizey cleans up the mess and sets things in motion.
>>-------------------->
Chapter 4: Let the Games Begin
What a disaster. Two bodies to deal with instead of one, ignorant Saracens milling about, spouting incomprehensible gibberish, and him with no plan made, no path chosen. This could hardly get worse.
He paced the aisle. He needed to leave here immediately, and it would have to be alone. Vaizey pouted; the only English-speaking company he had, bad though it had been, was lying dead. And Hood. Of all the insufferable... Hood had found him. No doubt he’d be back with his precious king just as fast as his little legs could carry him. He envisioned how it would have to be: the quick departure, the months of travel ahead, the complete boredom... Well. Perhaps it was worth checking on Gisborne, just in case.
Stepping over the pooling blood, he nudged the man with his toe, then added a kick to the ribs for good measure. Oh! How marvelous. He was moaning. Not dead after all; that would ease the travel a bit. But still -- the man would find a way to incapacitate himself at the worst possible moment. If Vaizey wanted anyone to...amuse...him he’d have to arrange for transport. And something for the leper.
He turned and examined Marian’s body. He’d still have to have her buried he supposed, though God knows he’d rather just throw her out by the side of the road. At least now they had a reason not to stay and watch her be lowered into the grave; Gisborne would be in no condition to complain.
He stepped closer to the body. He eyed it critically; she was beautiful, he’d give Gisborne that much. He’d never been able to get past the conniving look in her eyes, but now that they were finally closed he could appreciate her. Death seemed to have agreed with her. Who would have thought? Skin flawless as always, and...what? Had her fingers just twitched?
He leaned in, straining to feel her breath on his cheek. Oh yes -- she was alive all right. He glanced at Gisborne and laughed. The fool had been lying practically on top of her for near twenty-four hours and had never noticed.
“Hello, my dear,” he whispered, “so glad to see you’re still in there... A clue? NO.”
He watched with satisfaction as her eyelashes fluttered.
“Oh yes,” he crooned, “both your lovers have come and gone -- left you all alone with me. I’m afraid they were more interested in each other than in you...but then wasn’t that always the case? Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you. No reason to worry at all.”
He smiled maliciously, his mind already sorting through the possibilities. First he would need something to drug her...and probably Guy as well. Then to see the abbess...
>>-------------------->
“...et in hóra mórtis nóstrae. Ámen. Áve María, grátia pléna, Dóminus técum. Benedícta...”
The peace of mumbled prayers shattered as unease filled her...she listened...there was nothing but silence. She hesitated, drew breath to resume, then heard the scrape of a foot, the soft whisper of cloth sliding.
“Who is there?” she called.
Abruptly strong hands caught her jaw, forcing her face up close, closer, until he was so near she could feel his heat on her skin. Unable to mask her fear, she shivered and closed her eyes. She had thought herself a strong woman, had thought herself committed to God, but five minutes in the company of this stranger had shown her otherwise.
The Hail Marys she said were for her own soul; penance and supplication together for the services she had rendered this man. Services she had rendered because she was too full of fear to become a martyr, because she was not strong enough to accept the pain. So she squeezed her eyes tighter and prayed that he wanted no more from her, prayed that God would forgive her weakness.
“Ah, Abbess Beatrix. Yet again I arrive to find you on your knees...appropriate, don’t you think? Thought I’d let you know that my...requirements...have changed. The young woman, she is alive after all...”
She gasped in relief; one less crime on her conscience. She had never thought to find herself abetting a murderer, and the young woman was so lovely, fair and clearly wellborn...someone who would undoubtedly be missed. A prayer of thanks rose to her lips but was brutally quashed when the man behind ground a booted heel into the soft flesh of her knee.
“You will pay attention," he hissed, "God has no part in this.”
She nodded agreement before doggedly continuing the prayer inside her head. She would do these things, do what he required, but she would not lose her soul. She would make amends.
>>------------------>
Ch. 5 this way...
Author: perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Vaizey, Guy, Marian
Rating: PG-13
Genre: drama
Words: 790
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place during an AU 2x13. Introduction and chapter links for Denial II are here...
Summary: Vaizey cleans up the mess and sets things in motion.
>>-------------------->
Chapter 4: Let the Games Begin
What a disaster. Two bodies to deal with instead of one, ignorant Saracens milling about, spouting incomprehensible gibberish, and him with no plan made, no path chosen. This could hardly get worse.
He paced the aisle. He needed to leave here immediately, and it would have to be alone. Vaizey pouted; the only English-speaking company he had, bad though it had been, was lying dead. And Hood. Of all the insufferable... Hood had found him. No doubt he’d be back with his precious king just as fast as his little legs could carry him. He envisioned how it would have to be: the quick departure, the months of travel ahead, the complete boredom... Well. Perhaps it was worth checking on Gisborne, just in case.
Stepping over the pooling blood, he nudged the man with his toe, then added a kick to the ribs for good measure. Oh! How marvelous. He was moaning. Not dead after all; that would ease the travel a bit. But still -- the man would find a way to incapacitate himself at the worst possible moment. If Vaizey wanted anyone to...amuse...him he’d have to arrange for transport. And something for the leper.
He turned and examined Marian’s body. He’d still have to have her buried he supposed, though God knows he’d rather just throw her out by the side of the road. At least now they had a reason not to stay and watch her be lowered into the grave; Gisborne would be in no condition to complain.
He stepped closer to the body. He eyed it critically; she was beautiful, he’d give Gisborne that much. He’d never been able to get past the conniving look in her eyes, but now that they were finally closed he could appreciate her. Death seemed to have agreed with her. Who would have thought? Skin flawless as always, and...what? Had her fingers just twitched?
He leaned in, straining to feel her breath on his cheek. Oh yes -- she was alive all right. He glanced at Gisborne and laughed. The fool had been lying practically on top of her for near twenty-four hours and had never noticed.
“Hello, my dear,” he whispered, “so glad to see you’re still in there... A clue? NO.”
He watched with satisfaction as her eyelashes fluttered.
“Oh yes,” he crooned, “both your lovers have come and gone -- left you all alone with me. I’m afraid they were more interested in each other than in you...but then wasn’t that always the case? Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you. No reason to worry at all.”
He smiled maliciously, his mind already sorting through the possibilities. First he would need something to drug her...and probably Guy as well. Then to see the abbess...
>>-------------------->
“...et in hóra mórtis nóstrae. Ámen. Áve María, grátia pléna, Dóminus técum. Benedícta...”
The peace of mumbled prayers shattered as unease filled her...she listened...there was nothing but silence. She hesitated, drew breath to resume, then heard the scrape of a foot, the soft whisper of cloth sliding.
“Who is there?” she called.
Abruptly strong hands caught her jaw, forcing her face up close, closer, until he was so near she could feel his heat on her skin. Unable to mask her fear, she shivered and closed her eyes. She had thought herself a strong woman, had thought herself committed to God, but five minutes in the company of this stranger had shown her otherwise.
The Hail Marys she said were for her own soul; penance and supplication together for the services she had rendered this man. Services she had rendered because she was too full of fear to become a martyr, because she was not strong enough to accept the pain. So she squeezed her eyes tighter and prayed that he wanted no more from her, prayed that God would forgive her weakness.
“Ah, Abbess Beatrix. Yet again I arrive to find you on your knees...appropriate, don’t you think? Thought I’d let you know that my...requirements...have changed. The young woman, she is alive after all...”
She gasped in relief; one less crime on her conscience. She had never thought to find herself abetting a murderer, and the young woman was so lovely, fair and clearly wellborn...someone who would undoubtedly be missed. A prayer of thanks rose to her lips but was brutally quashed when the man behind ground a booted heel into the soft flesh of her knee.
“You will pay attention," he hissed, "God has no part in this.”
She nodded agreement before doggedly continuing the prayer inside her head. She would do these things, do what he required, but she would not lose her soul. She would make amends.
>>------------------>
Ch. 5 this way...