( fellden-AU ) if you must drink of me, take of me what you please;

[unabatedly]

[ It's not even a battle, really. For all that she is an accomplished warrior, her swordplay is outmatched by Gilgamesh's abilities. It's the golden light behind him, the Gates, that finally get her, though, by the end of it. One buries itself in calf; another in her side. It brings her to a stumbling finish, her blade easily parried and her shield broken, and Gilgamesh's glittering gauntlet closes around throat and lifts her up. The haze of pain keeps her from hearing most of what he has to say even as he dangles her over the cliff face.

For a terrible moment, she thinks he will throw her from the ledge. But his eyes burn a blood red, focused on her own, and the gauntlet squeezes tight enough to cut off her air flow. She kicks, she struggles, fingers clawing at the gauntlet. Her magic forms one last blade in the air, aiming true to his head--

Neria awakens with a startled gasp in a dim cell, all memory after that moment hazy and muddled, nothing connecting.

It takes far too long for her to understand her surroundings. The dungeon the Moon Temple, clearly, with her ankles and wrists shackled to the floor. A cot and a toilet are the only kindnesses she's been afforded, as well as what must have been some decent medical care as she only wears bandages now. Her throat aches but she has no way of knowing if there are bruises still from the fight.

Food is brought to her, which she stubbornly refuses. The guard tells her politely of her situation, that she has been granted clemency rather than a swift death, and that it is likely that the Priestess will come to mete out some kind of judgment in the coming days. She will remain there until then, and likely after, as there is no hope of a prison break or of a hostage negotiation.

It'd be kinder just to cut my head from my shoulders, she thinks and does not say. So she remains in that cell for a few days, waiting, barely eating or drinking. On the fourth day, there is activity outside of her cell, and the door is flung open to allow Gilgamesh inside.

Neria's scowl is immediate. ]

Come to gloat? Or are you here to kill me?

Comments

SUPER SHAMELESS SELF-INDULGENT PSL TIME

[gilgamess]

[ Gilgamesh tilts his head and smiles; outside of battle, and preferring fancy robes to golden armor, his hair down, he no doubt cuts a very different figure from their previous encounters. less the warrior and more the King. not that his title means anything in this world, not in a way that these fools properly acknowledge, yet his power immanates from deep within, his aura of presence so strong that it seems to glint from each ruby and each rich hue of that robe. had he told her, during their previous encounter in the Gods Wood, that he himself was born of a god? there is a reason after all that this blood beats so hotly in those ancient veins, or the ghostly mana remnants thereof. but then, probably he had not yet mentioned this detail; she still has much to learn about him, after all. ]

Is that what you assume? Aha, now, do not be foolish. I know you are a woman who should know better. [ his eyes roam up and down her form, imprisoned as it is; she is still bandaged, and he had heard word of the fact that she was refusing to eat.

no doubt this claim of his was in a great deal of discomfort. fortunate for her that she has such a wonderfully gracious liege. ] I am taking you from this place and to somewhere where you will receive bliss.

After all -- [ he reaches out, stroking a finger beneath her chin. ] -- you must be trained for this new faction, so that we might be victorious together, and I must enjoy the spoils of my victory.

[unabatedly]

[ So the former, then.

Neria stands all the taller for his bravado, as if matching him. There is no fear in her frame or in her eyes but nor is there pride there either. She's come to accept where she is for the past few days and knows only that she will die here; she has no intention of giving up information on herself or her faction. Should even the Priestess ask her to fight for Moon and to abandon her allies and friends, she won't allow it.

A shame, too, as she and the Priestess have similar views on the situation.

She doesn't know what he means by this bliss or where he thinks he'll take her, but the moment he reaches out and touches her, she lifts her hand to smack his away. The chain barely lets her go so far, the strike hardly more than a push, but Neria practically snarls at him, like she might bite. ]

Do not touch me. I am not yours to take anywhere. I may be a prisoner of the Moon faction but I won't be enslaved to their will.

[ From the corners of her eyes, she can see guards still posted just outside of the door. No one comes in to stop Gilgamesh.

...Isn't her punishment supposed to be death? Or-- ]

[gilgamess]

[ It certainly could be death, but so long as the Stars faction is neutralized, Moon still wins the war. And there is more than one way to defeat one's enemy. Neria might rather die than face this outcome, but that would be a waste. ]

You need not concern yourself. I am merely saying, I have seen your value.

[ if anything, she should be rejoicing.

he regards her rather like the owner of a wild wolf who is prepared to domestic the beautiful beast. this woman resists affection. such a being is the perfect conquest, the perfect one to satisfy his appetites at this time. anyway, Gilgamesh reaches out and takes hold of one of the chains binding her. with a simple tug, he snaps one, and then the other of those bindings. not that his strength is remarkable by the standards of a Servant, speaking strictly in terms of raw physical power and not all his other abilities that make him such a difficult adversary, but it is still more than human and more than enough to accomplish the task of freeing her. ]

I am saying I will take care of you hence forth. All your needs shall be met.

But if you would resist... then do so! That is far more entertaining, after all.

[unabatedly]

So you keep saying.

[ Her value, her efforts. He acts as if he is the only one who can appreciate her even as he had been just as willing to kill her.

But...he didn't kill her. She's alive and her body was not so broken that a healer could not stitch her back together. That's something she's starting to realize as the moments tick by, that Gilgamesh could have left her for dead or taken her head already, and he's chosen not to. For a moment, she tries to speak, and then he's ripping the chains and breaking them, even freeing her, and she lapses into a wide-eyed bewilderment.

And then, as if on cue, she tries to actually attack him. No magic comes to her call and Neria would be doubly foolish to even try; instead, she tries to grab him at the collar, goes even so far as to try to shove him up against the wall. One of the chains doesn't let her get quite so far, but her fingers are hooked like she wishes they could be claws, and there's fury in her eyes. ]

I'm not your fucking entertainment, Gilgamesh!

[ Which is also, precisely, when the guards step in to see if he needs help with her. ]

[gilgamess]

[ at this heightened aggression, the slit pupils of those feral cat eyes do narrow, like sizing up prey, or perhaps a mate. no doubt being gazed at in such a way only further fuels her anger. speaking of, he can feel the heat of that. and even if she is impotent to do more, she does well to shove him backwards. say what you want about her abilities; the point is, she has spirit, and that is worth more at the end of the day than mere raw power. for him, who has a mixture of both, he will simply remake this Neria in his image, until she becomes the most perfect and most dangerous version of herself. ]

Ahaha, well done, Neria. [ he waves a hand at the guards.

he may look cornered, but the implicit power play here simply adds to the alluring tension in the air. ]

Fools. Do not be alarmed. [ he glances back, briefly, at them, then returns his gaze to Neria. of everyone in this room, only he seems unconcerned. ] Entertainment? I suppose you still do not understand. You are not merely a toy to me; you are my wife, whom I will naturally show love to.

[ and having removed the chains at her wrists, he pulls out another link from his vault, preparing to clasp the softer, fabric collar of it around her smooth throat. ]

[unabatedly]

[ It's the gaze, it's the laugh, it's the insinuations. Neria's fury is a palpable thing, the tension thick. If she had access to her magic, no doubt there'd be fire or something all the worse, her emotions a volatile cocktail waiting to be thrown. Gilgamesh has her complete and undivided attention, all of her anger; whether that's lucky for him or not remains to be seen. But it keeps her from harming the guards and getting injured by them, at least.

For a slip of a second, she looks back at the guards, her grip on Gilgamesh tightening in response, like she might use him for leverage-- But she's no fool. She knows she's at their mercy.

It doesn't stop her from nearly shaking him. And that gives him the time and the moment to get the other link around her throat, which still sports the deep bruises from his own hand. Neria quite suddenly releases him, tries to tug away. ]

What are you-- Let go!

[ The guards don't interfere, even if their confusion - and concern - is obvious. ]

[gilgamess]

[ even in her enraged state, Neria is too sensible to go too far with risking self-harm. given her nature, she might even enjoy a certain amount of masochism; no doubt this encounter and her loss has already been stirring up that part of her which courts death and danger to begin with. but the thing is that even if she tempts and flirts with the knife edge of danger, she ultimately merely teases, always pulling back from her own destruction, always knowing when to preserve her life. there is a certain alluring nobility to this endurance. it makes Gilgamesh want to see where the fault lines lie.

he pulls gently, just to let her feel the chain go taut, a subtle signal of his power. ]

It is as I have said. [ this is addressed to these guards, his voice full of authority and control. ] Disperse. I have this situation under control.

[ Gilgamesh snaps his fingers, the rings on them clinking with the movement. ]

Come, Neria. The more obedient you are, the more quickly you will arrive at a far more pleasant location.

[unabatedly]

[ In the space of time that it takes for the soft chain to go tight, Neria's gone from furious to briefly terrified, her reality sinking in. It's a cold and terrible feeling, like an iron door shutting to leave someone in the dark - but the fear turns to anger and when the guards finally turn their backs to leave the situation, apparently confident that the elven woman is de-fanged, she lashes out again.

After all, it was very kind of Gilgamesh to release her from her chains. She strikes out with her foot, going straight for his side. If it pulls the chain, then let it, but she isn't going to be goaded to come along like an animal to a pen.

It doesn't matter that he's promised her that he'll care for her needs, or that he'll take her somewhere nicer than a dungeon. She doesn't trust him as far as she can throw him. ]

I said, let go of me!

[gilgamess]

[ she truly is an obstinate one, isn't she? still resisting.

unfortunately for Neria, Gilgamesh is not easily dissuaded, and this struggle only entices him further.

as he has lowered his guard somewhat, the kick connects. Gilgamesh looks surprised, and indeed, Neria hurts herself more than she hurts him, as the chain does indeed go taut. his expression, likewise, turns firmer. colder. ]

It seems another method of disciplining shall be in order for you.

[ he had not wished to do this so soon, but Neria gives him no choice in the matter.

closing the distance between them, he moves almost nose to nose with her before suddenly swinging in his step, positioning himself directly behind her back. his hands clamp down on her shoulders, possessively, before taking hold of her throat; his fingers, those of an Archer, caress his handwork in a most loving fashion. the pads of his digits press over the cloth and ever-so-gently press over the wounded, healing flesh beneath, as though he were attempting to soothe. and in a sense, he is.

those hands roam. he replaces the hands on her throat with his mouth, softly nipping just above the collar as he forces her head to tilt, inhaling her dark hair, and as soon as he has manipulated her into this more vulnerable state, those hands sneak lower, endeavoring to move beneath her clothing. ]

[unabatedly]

[ The tightening cord only cuts off her air briefly, long enough that when Gilgamesh's step brings him closer, she has to take a sharp gulp of breath. And then he moves, sliding behind her before she can try to strike him, and she feels fingers slide over her neck. It might not be his intention to harm her but the flesh around her throat is still tender and sore, and even the brush of his fingers earns him a temporary recoil - but, instinctively, she recoils backwards.

Right into him.

Hands are replaced by his mouth as he holds her there, and then she feels him pushing aside her tunic to reach beneath to the bandages wrapped around his side, to her exposed flesh. That earns him something of a struggle, of hands trying to push away his own. ]

Stop that! Gilgamesh, stop, what are you--

[ No, she has an idea of what he's doing, but the door is still open and the guards are just outside, and whatever he's doing is ridiculous and foolish. She squirms in his hold and finds him unyielding, like solid metal than man for all that he does not budge. ]

[gilgamess]

I'm showing you my love. You are my treasure in this war, after all.

[ he reaches up her body, hands roaming over her skin and under those heavy clothes, feeling whatever he can; that smooth expanse of thigh, stomach, and back. ]

Dear Neria, are you prepared to experience such bliss that your mind will be overwhelmed?

I decided that we should experience one another, after all. You simply caught my interest.

[unabatedly]

[ Yep, that's got to stop. If he wants to experience something...

The moment he even gets close to her back, Neria is throwing her weight into her elbow and back into his stomach. If she can, she's also pushing herself back into him, trying to at least unseat his footing. It likely won't be successful, even she can see that, and his hand is too close to that injury he gave her for her to think it won't come at a price.

But she's still going to, with a near growl. ]

I'm no one's treasure, especially not yours!