crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd

Sirius Revlis · 04-11-2012, 09:46 AM

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Word Count » +3 :: so much about them makes me think of Game of Thrones, these days. It's glorious.

She was collapsing beneath the weight of his words, deflating, her cards falling down to the table where he could see them all so clearly with his sharp, chemical eyes. There was no shame for her in this defeat, for he was a self-crowned King of deception, a man who mutilated the truth so thoroughly that none could see the barbarian within him, the terrible beast that hungered for madness more and more each passing dawn.

The soft warmth of her cheek in his palm moved as she spoke, in such a small voice, such a defeated voice. Warmth curled in the man's reptilian blood, but his eyes remained as cold and immovable as ice, as toxic as acid. Her own gaze, such a powerful shade of lime, lifted to meet it; A thing she and few others dared to do. And her voice shook with undercurrents of emotion, threads of fear and despair that his flickering forked tongue could snatch from the very air, and add to the volatile concoction of deception and manipulation that ran, as blood, through his very veins. He was a charlatan King, a false deity - He was a madman and a genius, and she was the tiger chained by his side. It was such a fine line they walked.

Her fear was justified. Solomon would have paid for the girl with her weight in gold, and the hard hollow men aboard his ship would have made good use of the tiger's lean body. There was little doubt within him that even she, so young and invincible, could be broken by the cruel fist of the world beyond her King's false love. And there was much that he could buy with the riches her life would provide - He could be done with her, like that. Brush his hands of the girl.

But no, loathe as he was to admit it, she was far too precious for such a fate, far too valuable for even the likes of a slave-trader's gold. He could not afford to lose her to her own disobedience. More chains needed to be thrown about her throat, more of the spider's silky webs to bind her in place. "You fight for me alone," His dark voice echoed her sentiments, and the bitterness in his gaze was sharpened, excruciatingly. The hand that cupped her face seemed suddenly to be a threatening weight, but only for a moment; For then, his black lips bowed up in a smile. "Yes. Serve me well, Salvia. That is all I ask of you. That is all I command of you," He opened his arms, bidding her to close the cold air between them and take his own form in an embrace. "Serve me well, and fight for me alone."

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