Work Text:
You have done me a great service.
Her words drip like icicles, hanging slick and sharp. Tension. The threat of falling with a promise to pierce.
He has done her a great service, he thinks. His best work yet. And now the little bird is locked in a cage of her own creation, while he watches on, swinging the key with cold, deft fingers.
It's pitiable, yes. But to acknowledge it would be hypocrisy.
He is the same.
He can feel her move behind him. Feel the chill of her breath. Her hand on his throat, tilting his head back. He meets her eyes, glazed blue, a mirror that reflects nothing. The same blue as his own.
Attention, she chides softly. Teasing. Her lips curl indulgently, a predator humoring her prey. And just where does your mind wander, pet?
The platitudes spill forth. Unimportant places, my lady. Nowhere meaningful. Forgive me. I am only-
Exhausted?
She hums, and the sound creeps over his skin like winter frost.
You needn’t grovel. I understand completely.
Does she? Her features radiate with compassion. The curve of her brow, that gentle smile. Glowing. Yet it is all carefully arranged, a mimicry, the perfect simulacrum of emotion. She is pristine, as always. Untroubled. Undirtied. Composed in a way no mortal could be.
I have been thinking. You have served me very well, my pet. In so many ways. And I fear I’ve left you quite wanting for praise. You deserve to know how much you mean to me. You deserve...
Her hand trails lower, nails scraping against his clavicle. He shivers.
A reward. So tell me, little camellia. What is your passion? What is it you desire? She eyes him keenly. Anticipating.
This is a test. He swallows, finding his throat quite dry, and forces a smile.
There is- no greater gift than to be yours, mistress.
Silence. An Eternity.
And then she laughs. The sound is clear, melodic. Like the cheerful ringing of a funeral bell, it echoes.
Darkness looms around them. He hadn’t noticed it before. It seeps into the cracks between them. Heavy. Stifling. Suddenly, he can’t remember how to breathe.
Very well, then. I am glad you understand.
Sweet dreams, my dearest -
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Ines wakes in a cold sweat.