Until We Have Faces

[ninefox]

Krell had to pin him with the Force to get him on the altar, and not gently. The back of his head might be bleeding, but it's hard to tell: the antechamber already smells of iron. The whole station is a bristling-black hulk of ancient ore, nickel and iron and ice and stone. The lack of anything resembling alloys or right angles makes it feel horribly unreliable, not a machine guaranteed to keep the air in, but an ancient brooding piece of debris untouched by the steadiness of engineers. It did have an airlock, that Krell and a few shame-faced clone guards shuffled him through, and iced-over doors somewhere in the dimness of their crisscrossed headlamps that must lead back into the warren of Ninefox Point.

The benighted promontory did not orbit so much as a brown dwarf or black hole: it was a rogue planetoid, drifting through the ragged stretches of starless, lifeless space. Here, old Strife, the Dark Side of War, had been confined ever since the ascendancy of the Jedi, noble Combat, and the rest of the Light pantheon. But even reviled and relegated Gods were due certain honors, and retained certain powers - and certain appetites. And Krell - who had his own suspicions about the future of that ascendancy - had come to give Strife his due and be rid of his most vexing problem in one blow.

It's pitch-black with him and the others gone. The heavy magnetic manacles embedded in the alter are utterly immovable; the stone beneath him is pitted and rough and cold, almost untouched since the creation of the universe - except, of course, for all the sacrifices that have come before.

Comments

[ninefox]

"You're perfect," Jedao whispers, without at all interrupting the kiss, rocking against him though he can't quite bear yet pulling out enough to thrust properly. He's been alone for so long, and Fives is so warm and tight and strong and giving. Jedao could be drunk on just the sounds he's making, could savor the feeling of his clumsy young kiss for a year.

You're mine and you're perfect, he thinks, but doesn't say, even though he treasures it in his secret heart.

He shudders and surges, encourages every uncertain lurching in Fives' kiss, and finally punctuates it by drawing back and then fucking into him again.

[callmefives]

Even as lost in sensation as he is, some part of him manages to protest that. He wouldn't be here if he were perfect, wouldn't be an outcast. Wouldn't be doing this. But it's brief and halfhearted and quickly washed away by a wave of pleasure.

He needs this, right now, to be held down and claimed and filled. To be wanted. And he kisses with more fervor, though no greater skill, as the creature moves against him and in him and urges him on. He hadn't really thought there'd be more to it than this, to the extent he can think at all, to be filled and held and kissed this way, and then the creature moves. Pulls out a little and then pushes back in and Fives groans and shudders, shock and pleasure chasing through his system.

[ninefox]

"I'm going to show you everything," Jedao promises in a low croon, between kisses this time instead of concurrently. He sets up a slow, deep, steady rhythm, fucking Fives with a patient, hungry deliberateness. Every few strokes, his cock brushes against the spot that makes Fives see stars in the darkness.

[callmefives]

Fives loses himself quickly to the sweet, building pleasure of it; soft touches and hungry kisses, the warmth of a body, however alien, moving against his own, the deep, aching pleasure of being stretched and filled and, intermittently, lit up with waves of sensation that propagate through his system like a pulse grenade.

There's nothing but this moment, this pleasure, nothing before or after. Just darkness and warmth and heat and building, aching need. Until what's left of his voice fills the darkness with a ragged, gasping whine that builds and fades but never goes silent, and his body arches and trembles beneath the creature as pleasure builds and builds and builds and then, more shocking than anything that's come before, breaks over and through him, tearing a shocked cry from his abused throat as he seizes and trembles and spills all over his abdomen and chest and even the quivering tendons of his throat.

[ninefox]

Jedao whines, an eerie needy keening sound, and laps at the drops of semen that reached Fives' neck and collarbone. Then he bites down and sucks harder at the same spots as his thrusts pick up speed, rough and slick and wild all at the same time. Jedao comes barely a minute or two after Fives, with a low howling cry of his own. He needs it so badly and already regrets that it's over; he knows he'll keep Fives as long as he can, but it will never be this perfect moment again. He collapses, panting, still hard and swelling inside Fives, tying them together while Jedao nuzzles and pets and kisses the sweat and come off Fives' skin.

[callmefives]

Fives is too wrecked to do anything but lie there and be used, his body going lax as he pants for breath. He can't even find the energy to reach up and touch the creature, to see if he feels as human now in other respects as his face and hands seem to now. He just shivers and groans occasionally when the creature's cock drags over that spot again, his chipped nails dragging weakly against the stone surface he's pinned against as it sends weak pulses through him again and again.

He knows what the howl must mean, feels the way the creature's strokes stutter raggedly and then still, and the pulsing that must mean it's feeling what he had such a short time ago. But then the pulsing doesn't stop, and he's being stretched wider and... this must be how it works, he thinks vaguely, as he's petted and kissed and licked. He's pinned and tied, filthy with his own fluids and filled with a monsters, and he's too tired to care about anything of it. At least he's not alone in the dark anymore.

[ninefox]

He goes a little strange at the edges again, licking and kissing Fives in places he shouldn't be able to reach, in more than one place at once. It's not teasing anymore, but a warm, soothing laving, stupefied gentle nuzzling. He feels light, floating on a sweet, easy, fond satisfaction that he hasn't felt in literal ages. It won't last, he knows - even with Fives here, the seething bitterness of the dark won't leave him for long. But right now he feels nothing but gladness and affection, and he indulges with every bit of himself. He makes happy little chirping noises as he licks Fives completely clean, as he covers him over again with skin or fur, keeping him perfectly warm while Jedao savors the pleasure of how tight Fives is around his knot, and how lax and well-fucked his body is everywhere else. Finally he seems to settle on a single mouth again, kissing Fives in slow, easy, lazy lingering kisses.

[callmefives]

Fives is too tired, too lax and sated, to care about the strangeness. It's just one with everything that's come before, and it's... comforting. The warmth and gentleness of it. Multiple soft tongues, gentle hands, stubbled jaws, the press of soft, dense fur keeping the cold of this barren place from him as he just drifts, too tired even for the fear and shame that's dominated every one of his waking and even sleeping moments for all the weeks since Umbara. Even the chirping is strangely pleasant, the happiness of it unmistakable, and when the creature kisses him again he kisses back, slow and tired and sloppy.

[ninefox]

When he finally softens enough to slip out of Fives, Jedao licks him clean there, too. Then he settles, nuzzling into his neck and still covering him with warm weight, hoping Fives can drift off to sleep while he stays.

[callmefives]

He's already more than half asleep by then, but when Jedao starts licking his hole clean he stirs a little. Not with arousal, just surprise at the change in sensation. But that's just warmth and gentleness too, and he's so tired; he can't muster any discomfort for any part of this now, especially not when the creature settles warmly back over him, soft and inexplicably comforting.

He's not sure he's really slept in weeks, not since before the bloody chaos of Umbara, certainly not in the cramped cold of the heretic's cell he'd been held in during the weeks it had taken to find this place. He's warm for the first time in ages, exhausted in every muscle, and his eyelids are too heavy to hold up.

And why should he try? He's already surrendered everything, there's nothing here to guard himself against. He turns his face into the warmth of fur where there'd been a stubbled jaw not so long ago, closes his eyes, and between one breath and the next is asleep more deeply than he's ever been in his life, other than under the influence of sedatives.

[ninefox]

When he wakes up, it's not pitch darkness: nine yellow lights line each of several metal doors around the edges of the chamber - although the airlock he entered is sealed and dark. The lights are shaped like eyes, but aren't; they aren't enough to make the chamber feel bright, but enough to see by. He isn't cold either, although the air is chilly again. Fives is covered with a heavy cloak, woven from something soft and warm, trimmed with red fur. There's a coat in the same style and a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to the alter stone. The boots are hide - smooth leather on the outside, soft fur on the inside. Just barely poking out of one of the boots is a small black nose, white whispers fluttering with tiny sleepy wheezes of its own.

[callmefives]

He's sore when he wakes up; from struggling against Krell and his brothers, from struggling against the monster he's been given too... and from giving in to it in the end. He doesn't let himself make a sound, though his jaw goes tight as he levers himself up to sit and examines both the room and the things that have been left for him in it. He pulls the cloak around his shoulders, teeth gritted against the ache and stretch as he steps down to the cold stone floor.

He feels... empty. Lost and soiled and broken beyond repair. And one hand drifts up to the scabbed and blistered mess where he'd worn his Lady's ashhawk with pride since he was two years old. His breath shuddered out in something that would be a sob if he let it and he slides down the side of the stone altar to sit curled in on himself on the floor at its base, the cloak falling off his shoulders as he ignores the coat and boots as well.

[ninefox]

Awoken by the noise, the little creature in the boot squeaks, scrambles, and promptly falls out of it. It's a long russet-red tube - more the shape of just one of a fox's tails than an actual fox, if the iconography were correct, and smaller than Fives' forearm.

"Hello!" It says in a squeaky voice - nothing like Old Strife's - and bounces over to him, tentatively putting a tiny black paw on his thigh.

"Er...should I...that is...would food help?" It really should know how to deal with crying consorts by now, it thinks, but it's been such a long time since the last one.

[callmefives]

Fives doesn't so much as look up when the creature squeaks and falls out of the boot. He doubts it's going to hurt him, and he wouldn't really care if it did. When it balances itself against his thigh he lifts his eyes enough to look at it without lifting his head, then shakes it just a fraction before looking down again.

He doesn't want food, he wants this to be over.

[ninefox]

"Okay. Well. Maybe later. And you should have water, in a bit. But we can...stay here for now. That's good too."

Marten is really not very good at this. It tries to curl up with its head resting on Fives' leg, but really it's too small to make it work, so eventually it climbs up and sort of. Flops. Over Fives' knee. Just so he isn't so alone.

[callmefives]

He shakes his head at that too, the only acknowledgment that he gives the little creature, even it drapes itself over his thigh. Maybe the monster isn't going to kill him, but that doesn't mean he has to live. He can salvage what dignity and honor he has left after-

His shoulders shudder and he keeps his teeth clenched against the sob that wants to come out-

After being weak and pathetic enough to let himself be soiled like that, and find his own way to death, even if he has no hope, now, of spending it at the Lady's side. It still has to be better than to be a plaything for her ancient, evil enemy.

[ninefox]

"Oh. I'm doing it all wrong, aren't I? I'm sorry," Marten wheezes, wiggling a little. "I could call one of the other attendants? Toast would know what to do, probably. But the Lord said I should be the one so here I am and. If you tell me what would help I'll try to do that?"

[callmefives]

The little creature sounds so earnest Fives can't help looking at it again, and he has a brief urge to see if it's as soft as it feels. He keeps his hands curled against his knees, though.

"I don't... want help," he finally rasps. "Just-" He shakes his head and drops his eyes again- "Just leave me be."

[ninefox]

"I...can't," Marten admits, sounding a bit crestfallen. The Lord said he should attend. "But I could be quiet?"

He can try, anyway.

[callmefives]

Fives folds his arms over his updrawn knees and drops his head on them, letting the cold of the floor and the room and the altar at his back seep into him. Dying of thirst won't be quick and it won't be pleasant, maybe he can find some way to speed himself along before then, but for now he just... sits. Silent and still and miserable.

[ninefox]

Marten squeaks a little and falls off his leg; eventually he scampers up onto the stone, and then hops down onto Fives' shoulder, and finally curls up there, in a soft warm little ball.

He lasts about ten minutes.

"Could we....could we at least get out of the anteroom? Only it's much nicer inside, and we worked very hard on your chambers, and, and, and if you don't like it we'll fix it?"

Also Marten is starting to worry he could get in trouble for not doing any successful attending.

"...please?"

[callmefives]

Fives doesn't even move through the falling and climbing and general rearranging, though the little creature's warmth breaks the room's chill where it curls against him. At least it stays quiet... for a while.

"Chambers?" he asks roughly. He'd assumed that this was where he'd be left, that this miserable little stone room was to be the extent of his world until he manages to end himself.

[ninefox]

Marten seizes on this opening with enthusiasm.

"Yes! We did the light spectrum so it's perfectly suited for your eyes, and soft floors, except one bit that's bouncy, that one was my idea! And, and a bed, and chairs and things, Thief says you've got a skeleton that's good for chairs. And warmer than here! And games, if...if you like games. And a training place, because you're strong and all. And pretty colors on the walls, even some blue, even though the Lord doesn't really like blue."

[callmefives]

The idea that there could be light and warmth in this place, soft floors and luxuries like a bed and chairs is almost incomprehensible to him, and he doesn't want them anyway. And he wouldn't even know what to do with a game, or what one is, even if he were planning on settling in here. But-

"A training place?" he rasps, lifting his head a little.

[ninefox]

"Yes!" Marten hops down and scampers over to one of the doors limned in low yellow lights. "Come and see!"

It was actually one of the only places they barely changed at all; all of the sacrifices have been soldiers, after all, and most of them wanted something like it.