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Chapter Text

Lord Equius Zahhak, heir to the seat of the Stronghold and a future member of the Five Great Lords of the Alternian Empire, rode into a village with no name.

Or perhaps it did. He didn’t know. The locals would tell him if he asked, but he tended to avoid talking to them if he could. Partially out of a slight disdain for the peasantry, partially because he found they were much more talkative around people who weren’t him.

Equius was a giant of a man, in size and presence. He wore a masterwork piece of armor that was designed to frighten and intimidate all who looked upon it, and it did that job quite successfully. His sword was long enough to cut three men in half in a single swing, a fact he had learned by experience.

In short, Lord Zahhak worked much better as a threat than a negotiator. Merely by sitting on his warhorse and looking vaguely menacing, he did the work of a dozen burly men with clubs. Villagers fell over each other to do what his officers said.

That was why he was in this dumpy little settlement. He was here for supplies and information, and he knew no one who had it would dare deny him.

Lord Zahhak's men had scoured the countryside for the rebels. A man of his position rarely entered into the muddy, dirty realm of the masses, but this was a particularly fearful quarry he was hunting. The rebel known as The Signless was a master at living off the land, so to keep his own men from starving Lord Zahhak had ordered them to take what they wanted from the locals. This had gone poorly in the past, and several villages now lay smoldering.

Two hundred cavalry clad in their navy armor and on the backs of snorting and heavily-muscled destriers stormed the small village. Lord Zahhak had ordered his men to do as they always did, and to summarily execute anyone who resisted.

It was then that Zahhak and his own personal guard came across a flock of fat, succulent sheep. Their haunches would make excellent meals, and their wool would go far if the campaign went into the winter.

Drawing his steel longbow, Lord Zahhak took careful aim at a nearby sheep. With an exhale, he loosed, and the beast's head split in two. “Take the entire flock,” he ordered, “And if you find the shepherd, bring him to me.”

The men did as ordered and set upon the sheep, bows and blades drawn and ready. They were cutting down the flock with quite a degree of success, when a cry interrupted them. “HEY!”

It was then a lovely girl rushed into view; petite, with long and wild dark hair. Her hair and her roughspun skirts streamed behind her as she dashed down the hill towards the lord and his men. She was a peasant, and had none of the refined beauty of a highborn lady... but she wasn't without her appeal, either. Lord Zahhak raised his thick, dark eyebrows at the trinket around her neck: a gleaming red stone on a gold chain. Not the sort of thing a peasant would have.

There was a rustling as one of his men drew a blade, but Lord Zahhak put up a hand. “Stay yourself,” he said, “She can harm no one but herself.”

Dismounting with a thump, Lord Zahhak strode over to the girl and looked down at her, arms crossed. “Well met. I am claiming your flock in the name of the Empress.”

The girl had a very fine face for her class. When she drew close, it became clear that she had amazing eyes - very large and such a dark, rich brown that they almost seemed to be a warm red. And right now those eyes were blazing. Showing not an ounce of deference for the highborn military man, she stormed right up to him. He seemed to be in charge, after all.

"Well met, indeed!" she said. Her voice was very bright and clear, and she enunciated remarkably well for a peasant. She also sounded furious. "These are my sheep! You've no right to storm in here like that!" The lord utterly dwarfed the girl; she only came up to about his shoulder - if that. Yet she didn't seem to notice at all. Her eye contact was dead-on. "I'll expect compensation for this."

Lord Zahhak swallowed a small laugh that assembled in the back of his throat. He had met a great deal of peasant girls in the course of the campaign, but none had the courage to march up to him and make demands like this one. Such internal strength was a rare quality, to be treasured.

That said, he wasn't about to take an order from the peasantry. “Your compensation is safety,” he said dismissively, “The meat and wool of these animals will be used by my armies to their fullest extent. Do not fear they will not go to waste. As for money I might be able to spare… Oh, twenty silver.” The sum was not one-fifth the value of the entire flock. Lord Zahhak did not believe for a moment she would accept the offer; he was far more interested in her reaction to it being made at all.

It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough, and the girl knew it. She was not stupid, not by any means, and she was livid that this man would even suggest such a thing. She was so horrified that he was intending to eat her sheep in the first place. Her family had always raised them for their wool; they felt like family members, especially now that the girl didn't have any living family.

She glared up at the man. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead to the ground then and there. "Twenty silver?" she said incredulously, "Don't insult me, sir." Her hands balled into fists at her sides. "You leave my sheep alone. I don't care a thing for your armies. Feed them elsewhere."

Lord Zahhak was in fact very fortunate looks could not kill; that required steel and force, and he was quite resistant to those. With his armor, he was over twice this girl's width. He wouldn't even need his longbow, just his fists... but there was no need to harm her. In fact, he was starting to like this fiery and surprisingly well-proportioned peasant girl. “Fine then. I will spare what is left of your flock in exchange for two things: firstly that necklace around your neck. It catches my eye. Secondly, you, for a night.”

Lord Zahhak was tempted to allow his face to curl into a grin. He didn't smile often; this was a war, after all. But even war had its upsides, and this was one of them.

The fire in the girl sparked and her hand flew protectively to her chest. She was hesitant, but willing to part with that. It wasn't worth her whole flock; she wasn't that prideful or stupid.

But at the second command, her entire demeanor changed. She looked up at him, narrowed eyes going wide with shock. Oh no. There was no way that was happening. The lowborn girl took a defensive step backwards. When she shook her head no, her long dark hair waved behind her like a banner in low wind. The color drained from her already pale face. "No," she said firmly, "No, you keep away from me."

Lord Zahhak kept his face stoic. When he returned home, he had an arranged marriage waiting. Personally, he hated the vicious woman he was slated to wed, but he wasn't in any position to deny his duty. That didn't mean, though, that he couldn't have some fun while he was out here, two hundred miles from the Keep.
The girl's change in demeanor was pleasing as well. She was defiant to the last, and Lord Zahhak liked his women strong. But she didn't seem to understand the gravity of her situation.

His mailed hand shot out, faster than most would have expected. Lord Zahhak moved in heavy armor like most men moved in plain clothes, a benefit of his titanic strength and agility. The girl had no time to move; Lord Zahhak grabbed his small, pointed chin and held her in place. “Perhaps I was unclear,” he told her, “I was not making a request.”

The peasant ought to have thought through her next move with more care, but she didn't hesitate - the second his hand was on her face, she smacked it away. However, his chainmail was both harder and sharper than she had been expecting. Though she broke free from his grip, she'd torn a small (blessedly shallow) gash in her hand. It smarted and dark red blood welled to the surface to stand in abrupt contrast with her pale flesh.

She hissed in a breath through clenched teeth but did not dwell on it, preferring to resume her glaring. "I am not yours to command. And my flock is not yours to take," she said, unabashedly talking back to the lord, "Don’t you dare touch me." Certainly he could kill her with a word or a gesture. But her audacity alone was commendable.

And Lord Zahhak did have half a mind to commend the girl. Most of the peasantry was cowed into submission just by Lord Zahhak's mere presence. He was a large man even without the armor, with long white scars running along his neck and scalp. The peasants knew those scars had been inflicted by men a thousand times more lethal and dangerous than they were. There was no way this girl did not know that, on a whim, Lord Zahhak could have her tortured, killed, raped...

But he was not so cruel. He wasn't going to hurt her, nothing permanent at least. She needed to know her place, that was all. Lord Zahhak wasn't a sadist like that House Makara bastard. A hint of force would do the trick.

“You need to learn your place,” the man informed the girl. Again, Lord Zahhak's hand shot out. This time, it wasn't aiming for her face. His mailed hand folded into a loose fist the size of a small war hammer and, using only a tiny fraction of his tremendous strength, he punched the peasant girl in the stomach.

The action caught her completely by surprise. Perhaps she had been raised gently, or perhaps she had never encountered someone this accustomed to being obeyed, or perhaps no one had ever taught her what might happen to a girl with a mouth too big... But the look on her face spoke of unexpected pain. She doubled over, clutching both arms around her middle, wincing.

For a second it looked almost as if she was bowing to him. Tears sprang to her eyes, but the lass did not allow herself to cry. Beyond one gasping exclamation of pain, she didn't want him to know how much he'd hurt her. "Brute," she indulged in spitting the single word at the highborn man.

Lord Zahhak could not help but be awed at this girl's unflappable resolve. She was practically retching in pain, but she was still defiant. Breaking her wasn't even worth it. Force would not break her, unless he poured so much of it into her that he did irreparable damage.

The man took one knee, putting himself at eye level with the keeled-over girl. With one mailed hand, he removed his glove from the other, revealing his weathered, strong fingers. He then reached for the girl's face, much slower than before. With one finger, he wiped her eye of tears. “That is not my name,” he said calmly, unbothered by her glare, “I am Lord Zahhak. You may call me Equius.”

Unsurprisingly, the young woman flinched away from his touch. She was scared of him now, and she had good reason to be. He was clearly violent. Her family had been very kind - this was alien to her, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

It took some effort, but she straightened up and looked at the man. Kneeling, he managed to be shorter than her. But not by much. He was truly a massive individual.
"...It doesn't matter what I call you," she said. Her red-brown eyes looked at him with something akin to revulsion. "You will not be touching me." Her statements were very clear. She only wished that she had the means to back them.

Lord Zahhak found himself in the peculiar situation of having to look up at somebody. This had not been a common occurrence in his life. Oddly enough, he rather liked it. He always had his chin pointed downwards, and it was surprisingly refreshing to be looking up at someone, especially one as lovely as the girl.

She clearly loathed him, but that wasn't an obstacle. Lord Zahhak got what he wanted, even if it took a little while. Obviously, his approach so far hadn't worked, but getting the girl to sleep with him entirely of her own accord probably went out the window when he killed her sheep.

“Very well.” He stifled a sigh at her stubbornness. Perhaps a clear, simple explanation would do. “You may keep that trinket around your neck if it will make you feel better. However besides that you only have one choice: your flock or your body. What will it be?”

"Forget-," the peasant girl started to say furiously. She clutched the gemstone encircling her thin neck and narrowed her eyes at the man.

But something made her glance back. She turned her head and looked over the formerly peaceful meadow. Her sheep, the only reminder she really had of her family and the only way she had to support herself, were greatly diminished in number. She could not afford to lose any more. She wouldn't survive the next year.

One of her flock was backing away from an armed foot soldier, bleating in terror. The young woman felt a sudden pang for it. For all of them. And for herself.

She turned to look back at Lord Zahhak. He was big, and she had caught on that he was not gentle. The peasant was not a very large young woman, and she was afraid of even attempting this. But... She could bear it. It was only once, only one night. She could get through it if it meant being able to survive. And she had a sneaking suspicion that this man would take what he wanted by force either way. Better to save her sheep.

She felt her eyes prick. She did not want to do this. But she blinked the feeling away furiously. She couldn't let him see her so weak. She stared at the grass beneath her feet. "...Only for one night? After that you leave me and my flock alone?"

In response, Equius turned to his men and raised a hand. “Stay your blades. We are sparing the remainder of this flock.” A few of the soldiers grumbled, but one glare from Equius and their blades returned to their scabbards.

Equius nodded approvingly. “Stack the corpses behind this young woman's cottage, they are hers… And somebody bring me my horse,” he added. He stood up, his armor clanking as the joints rubbed against one another. He should get it oiled tonight.

He then looked at the girl, who was once again teary-eyed. As strong as this young woman was, she was incapable of holding back her emotions. She had to be terrified beyond belief. Lord Zahhak had expressly told his men that they were not to rape any of the women they came across, on pain of castration. It would not do for him to fail to follow his own orders. No, he'd have to make her as comfortable as possible first.

Besides, he loathed the sight of a wailing woman.

Lord Zahhak again reached for the girl's face to dry her tears. This time, though, he hooked his free hand under the girl's backside and lifted her into his arms with only that hand. She inhaled sharply. She'd not been expecting that. The desire to twist and wriggle out of the man's grasp was extraordinary, but she forced it down by biting the inside of her cheek and looking away from him. Equius found her to be nearly weightless in his grasp.

Equius swallowed hard at the sight of her beauty. Her showcasing such impressive force of will had done nothing but make her seem more desirable in his eyes. “You have yet to tell me your name,” Equius pointed out.

For a second she entertained the notion of refusing to give him a name. It might be wiser to remain some poor, unknown peasant girl to him. However, she didn't think she had the energy to maintain that particular form of stubbornness. The last thing she needed was to anger him. "...Aradia Megido," she said, voice sounding dry and scared.

Her head turned to watch her poor dead sheep being gathered up and carted away. She didn't know what she was going to do with them now. She lived alone - she wasn't equipped to do very much with them. The thought of eating them repulsed her, but the young woman supposed that that would be what she'd have to do.
The soldiers rounded up the rest of her livestock and Aradia had to resist the urge to jump in. They were being too rough. Aradia was remarkably careful and gentle with her animals, and it did not sit well with her to see anyone else manhandling them.

Equius noted the change in demeanor. It seemed force was not necessary after all; just a demonstration of how weak and powerless this... Aradia girl was. He carried her over to his horse and placed her on the saddle as gently as he could. It wouldn't do for him to hurt her. After climbing on himself, he gestured to his men, who had finished moving the dead sheep. “Mount up. We are expediting to camp.”

Chapter Text

Lord Zahhak and his riders headed through the town, past his men lining up several of the town's more rebellious individuals. At the forefront of the execution a man in a black hood with an axe taller than he was. With a kick, the executioner brought a hobbled older villager to his knees, then lined up the axe with the man's neck.

Lord Zahhak pursed his lips at the sight. A necessary evil, he supposed. There were always villagers who refused to give up their property, and they were dealt with accordingly. However, only those suspected of being spies or allied with the Signless were executed. Lord Zahhak had long since given up trying to torture or interrogate those spies; they either knew nothing or killed themselves once captured.

The sight of the execution was distasteful. Lord Zahhak looked away, before remembering his riding mate probable knew some of those people. “Look away Lady Megido,” he instructed, “And be glad I did not condemn you to their ranks.”

Aradia had known that whatever purpose Equius and his men had in her village, it was nothing good. No matter who sent them, no matter what they claimed their mission was, as far as Aradia and people like her were concerned, their presence was nothing but trouble.

But she never expected things to be as bad as this.

Obviously, she completely ignored the command. "I'm not a lady," she informed the man sourly as she looked out to see what was happening. A rock dropped in the pit of her stomach. There were people she knew over there. People she knew and trusted, people who had no reason to be put to death like this. She yanked away from the man holding her on the horse and gasped, flinging a hand over her mouth.

No. No, no, no, oh Gods no.

Her best friend was up there.

"You can't do that!" she cried, turning to look at Equius. "You can't kill him." Aradia turned again to look at Sollux Captor, who was being half-dragged to what would be his death. She knew he had a big mouth, and she just knew he'd gone and said something flippant and gotten himself in trouble. But he didn’t deserve death for that.
"He hasn't done anything wrong!" Her spark was back, but tempered by a strong tendril of terror.

Equius felt the sudden jostling behind him and turned to look at the girl panicking. He followed her eyes up to a young man with mismatched eyes and a dirty-yellow colored tunic. Stuffed in his mouth was a gag, which he seemed to be trying in vain to spit out. “A friend of yours?” the lord asked derisively, “If he is in line for execution, then he has most certainly committed some misdeed.”

Equius raised a hand towards the soldiers dragging the young man to the chopping block. “What crime has the boy committed?” he asked. In response, one of his men reached for the boy's neck and yanked a necklace from his tunic. It was small, grey, and simple, but the emblem was unforgettable.

Two circles atop and lateral to one another, both with a curved line in the direction of the other circle. Equius recognized the symbol immediately. He looked back at the girl. Could she be...? No, there was no way. Knowing a Signless follower did not make her a Signless follower herself. She was likely unaware of the gravity of the situation.

“This boy is guilty of allying with the criminal known as the Signless,” Equius said, “A misnomer as the Signless does in fact have a sign… I did not come up with the name.” he gestured dismissively, “Regardless, consorting with a known rebel is an offense punishable by immediate execution. That or torture and interrogation, which will be followed by execution. Would the latter be preferable?”

The girl looked utterly horrified. She and Sollux stared at one another with large eyes, filled with pleading and questions, all silent.

He was her best friend, not to mention the boy that she was supposed to wed eventually (not that she was thrilled about that part). Aradia couldn't just watch him lose his head. She had to do something.

If she'd saved her sheep, perhaps she could rescue her friend too. The thought made her cringe, but not as much as the thought of her best friend dying and her doing nothing did.

She turned back to look pleadingly at Lord Zahhak. "He’s a good person," she promised, "He’d never plot or hurt anyone. Please let him go," She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, disgusted at herself, "I will do whatever it takes. There-there must be something I can do to convince you, sir. Please let him go. Please."

Equius raised an eyebrow at Aradia's panic. She seemed to feel stronger about this than any of her previous misgivings. Could she harbor feelings for this scrawny peasant? Equius felt a pang of fury, which quickly turned to cold satisfaction. She liked this lad, eh? She wanted him to live?

Fine. Equius would let him live.

“Take him back to camp,” he ordered the soldiers who had him, “Extract information from him, but do no permanent damage. Then hold him until morning. I will decide what to do with him at that juncture.”

Equius reached back and, almost lazily, pinned Aradia against the destrier with one hand. He held her there firmly and looked into her fear-filled eyes. “That is what your kindness has wrought: my men will make your friend suffer. If he is as innocent as you claim he is I will let him live. If not, then…” Equius jerked his head in the direction of the axeman, who had just decapitated his fourth prisoner.

Aradia needed no explanation further than that. She got the message loud and clear. She swallowed hard, wetted her lips nervously, and nodded. The sheep had been one thing, but now the game had changed. She could no longer go grudgingly, merely lying there with her eyes shut as she had intended. No, now she would have to do well enough by this man that he listened to her pleas for her friend's life.

She felt horrible - a little sick at the prospect of the coming night, scared for herself and her friend, and sorry that she could not do more or do this differently. But most of all she felt tiny. The way it only took him one hand to prevent her from bolting reminded Aradia how small and weak she was. She'd always valued mental strength, but that did her little good now.

"I hope you're in a charitable mood in the morning, my lord," she said, unable to look at her captor. The title came grudgingly from her lips, and her voice bore a slight waver.

Sollux shot Aradia a look of panic. Aradia responded by mouthing I'm sorry as he was dragged away and she was carried off. She wobbled in her sidesaddle position, and was forced to hook her arms around Lord Zahhak's chest to hang on. The armor he wore felt cold and unforgiving against her soft flesh and worn rough-spun.

Equius wasn't entirely sure how to react to the girl's sudden complicity. All that strength that had changed her from an unusually pretty peasant to something Equius simply must have had just drained from her. She seemed to have given up, which was good. But then, didn't that defeat the entire purpose of taking her in the first place?
Lord Zahhak contemplated this for several minutes as they rode back to camp. The sun was starting to go down, and his men were taking their spoils back to the campsite about ten miles outside the village. Out of the corner of his eye, Equius saw several prisoners being loaded onto a cart, the boy included. They rarely took prisoners; the other fellows must have had some promising information.

The ride was long, quiet, and uneventful.

Though her eyes were open, Aradia saw nothing as they rode into the camp. She was staring off into space, after the place where Sollux had been taken from her line of sight, as if staring would bring him back. They were going to torture him. He was going to be hurt, and she knew it. And they still might kill him, even after all that, if he told them something they didn’t like. It all depended on the man who'd stormed in and claimed Aradia. She wished she knew what to do. She wished she had a plan.

The girl wasn't talking, and Lord Zahhak wasn’t either. He was thinking- not just about her, but the campaign as a whole. All they had been doing was traveling from village to village, taking what they wanted, and moving on. Occasionally they discovered a cell of the Signless' army, but the meat of the army, the thousands of dangerous rebels they had been dispatched to defeat, eluded Equius’s troops.

His men were getting agitated, and they weren't the only ones. Equius would never have done anything as brazen as what he was doing with this girl for the first six months. It was hardly lordly of him, but he was tired of falling asleep alone, especially when his only other options were the disease-ridden camp followers.

Equius didn’t like taking the girl. It had come from a moment of weakness and loneliness. It had been years since Equius felt anything for a woman other than respect or revulsion. Staying to woo Aradia would have never worked; she hated him before they had said a word to one another. No, his only choice was to take her by force and then convince her that her situation was not as bad as she thought.

They finally arrived in camp, a flag bearing the blue arrow of House Zahhak flapping in the wind before them. Equius dismounted and lifted Aradia off with him, letting two stable boys take his horse.

Equius carried Aradia straight for the center of camp. A few soldiers gave him odd looks, but said nothing. As he walked, Equius gave orders to his officers with one hand while holding Aradia with the other.

On instinct, Aradia yelped when Equius scooped her down into his arms again. Her head had been in the clouds and she hadn't realized what he was going to do until he'd done it. The way he was holding her forced her to wrap her arms around his neck like a child to stay on, which she did grudgingly. She turned her head and would not look at him.

He pursed his lips at the roughness of her clothes. His gauntlets were still off, and the poor texture of the clothes struck him with a thought: the shapeless garment she was wearing was hideous. “How you are dressed will not do,” he said.

"Oh, so sorry that I didn't wear my cloth-of-gold in anticipation," she blurted sarcastically. It, like the yelp, was out of her mouth before she'd thought about it. Aradia instantly shut up. She had to remember Sollux. She had to play the dutiful - ugh, she didn't even want to use the vile word – whore for the young lord. A slip on her part could lead to a slip of an axe over her friend's neck.

Equius wasn't able to help himself: he snorted at the quip. It was funny; she was funny. He liked that. He was prepared for the follow-up, though, and remained stoic. It would be unseemly for him to laugh at everything he found funny; he'd be better off with a straight face. He always was.
“I have a gown that you will change into,” he went on, “I will take off my armor, as well. Then we shall have dinner.”

She tried to salvage her rudeness by making it into lowbrow wit. "What I mean to say is... Why would my lord want me to change and sup with him? Would you prefer to rip me out of silk than wadmel?" She still wouldn't look at him, instead she addressed the grass.

Her averted eyes did not escape Equius' notice. It was clear that Aradia would rather be anywhere else but here. Lord Zahhak found that idea vexing. He wanted the passionate firebrand, not some frightened peasant shutting her eyes and taking it. He'd be wasting both of their time.

He was going to have to earn her trust, then. “I would prefer not to rip you out of anything,” he shrugged, “The dress is worth as much as your house - do not let any harm befall it. I would be most cross with you if you tore it.”

They arrived at Equius' tent, a grand and spherical affair in the center of camp. Lord Zahhak carried her inside and let her climb off his arm.

The trip to the tent was awkward and uncomfortable. Aradia tried her best to suppress her desire to flee, and only squirmed slightly in the man's arms. She'd never been in a position like this before, literally and metaphorically.

She had never been so glad to touch land as when her feet hit the rushes in the bottom of the soldier's tent. Aradia had an odd look on her face as she glanced around the walls of blue fabric. It was as large as her entire cottage. She was slightly amazed by it, though the only way that showed on her face was in her raised eyebrows and widened eyes.

The tent was big, but it was also boring. There was a feathered mattress and a bedstand, a table, a few of his spare bows, and, in the corner next to his bed, a large wooden chest. Producing a key from his satchel, Lord Zahhak headed over to the chest and unlocked it.

It was filled with glimmering gold, gorgeous jewelry, ceremonial weapons, and other spoils. When Lord Zahhak saw treasures he himself wanted, he took them and stored them in this chest. He tried not to take too much for himself, since his army needed the spoils, too. He had little interest in material things. Nine-tenths of what he took would go to the House Zahhak treasury.

The treasure chest only made Aradia’s wonderment increase. She stared for a moment. Her own necklace was fine, and easily worth more than she made in a year. But that someone could casually have a chestful of the equivalent... Aradia was baseborn, and didn’t know what to begin to think about such finery.

Folded neatly in the corner of the chest was a flowing, low-cut gown that was a deep shade of blue. It was very dark, darker than Equius’s house color. He had taken it for that reason; he thought it would've looked good on the girl he was arranged to marry.

But it would look far better on Aradia.

He unfolded the gown gently, taking care not to crease it. It was still in excellent condition, and made of a soft, light fabric. He carried the garment over to Aradia.

"...You want me to wear this, my lord?" she asked, looking at the dress. It was nicer than anything she had ever worn, no question. She felt as if she would spoil it just by looking at it, though her gaze did not flinch away. Let her dirty it. If Lord Zahhak had his way, Aradia thought, it would likely end up on the ground before the night's end.

Equius bit his lip. He wasn't sure if what he was about to say was a good idea or not. “Take off your dress. You cannot put the gown on without my help.”

Predictably, she didn't take well to his statement. "I'm quite sure I can manage on my own," she said, trying to keep the sharpness out of her voice, for Sollux's sake more that her own. "If you're so eager to see me bare, my lord, can you not just have done with this entire affair right now?" She wanted this to be over. It was so hard to keep her voice level and free of venom, and to keep addressing him by a title.

Equius shook his head. For her best efforts, Aradia had only partially managed to disguise the loathing in her voice. Annoying. Something to be remedied. “You misunderstand,” he said, his voice a low, calm rumble, “You are physically incapable of putting on this gown without help.”

Equius flipped the gown over to reveal the intricate mess of laces and loops that made up the back. He then showed Aradia the inside, which also had several thin straps for holding the gown in a certain position in certain places.

“It was designed to be put on by one of a lady's courtiers,” he explained, “But I have no courtiers of my own and none of my pages know a lady from a hole in the ground.” Aradia actually didn’t doubt that part.

“Luckily, as a gentleman I am versed in such matters,” Equius went on, “If my intentions were so crass as you say I would have taken you in the field. Kindly disrobe so that I may help you into the gown.”

There was an element of firmness in his voice. She still saw him as an enemy, as something to be overcome. Equius didn't blame her, but he wished it wasn't so. Showing her that he had intentions besides the most base one was the first step in remedying that.

If he was lucky, she might actually look him in the eye at some point before the night was over.

Her face was deadpan blank as she looked over the dress. Of course it would have more straps than tack on a warhorse. She had a sneaking suspicion that it would be irritating and uncomfortable in proportion to its complexity.

Equius got his wish - she looked away from the dress long enough to meet his gaze. She felt like she was boiling beneath her skin. All she wanted to do was yell at this man, inform him that he was boorish and that this was a sneaky ploy, and let him know exactly how little she wanted his hands anywhere near her.

Her red-brown eyes were the only things that spoke any of that. She couldn't say those things. She had to make damn sure that Sollux survived the morning, and that wouldn't happen if Lord Zahhak found her insolent enough to need further punishment. If it was only her sheep things would have been different. But it wasn't. She was stuck.

She broke her glare to look back at the ground, still trying to keep herself level. "...Very well, my lord," she said grudgingly. Without another word, keeping her head bowed all the while, she started unlacing the back of her bodice. The hempen threads untied easily, and slowly slid through the loops of the dress.

Equius watched wordlessly as Aradia stripped herself of her rough-spun clothing. Her skin was the color of cream, that was the first thing that went through his head when he saw her nearly as naked as the day she was born.

All Aradia had on now was the cloth around her waist that served as smallclothes. Her small, firm breasts were free to show themselves, though she quickly hid them behind her hands.

Lord Zahhak trudged over to her, taking stock of a wide pair of hips that gave way to two lovely, athletic legs. Aradia was certainly well-proportioned; what she lacked in refined beauty she made up for in a certain earthy charm and a prideful posture.

Lord Zahhak had seen and tamed wild horses before. Aradia carried a feralness not unlike one of those animals, made all the more evident by her long, untamed hair that came down to her waist.

The analogy worked. Aradia was a wild mare. She needed to be tamed.

“Raise your arms please.” Lord Zahhak was now only a foot away from her. Lifting the dress over Aradia's head, he let the short sleeves fall over her arms. The dress settled onto her body, loose and out-of-shape.

Lord Zahhak sat cross-legged before the girl, and then stuck his hands under the dress until he found the two straps that were currently resting against Aradia's thighs. “I am going to adjust and tighten the straps,” warned Equius. “Tell me when you begin to feel discomfort.”

She was cold to him as he worked. She had to be. Aradia did not trust herself to display any other signs of feeling. She had to be a statue, made of marble, unfeeling, unyielding. If he saw how much this bothered her, he would win.

Though she had to submit to him, the peasant girl refused to let him win.

The girl's body was lovely. Her skin was extraordinarily soft and smooth, naturally pale, though with a warm sunniness that teased at a tan due to all the time she spent working outdoors. Her slim hands and small feet may have had their calluses, but it was clear that she took good care of herself. Bared, her breasts swelled small but full, in proportion to her petite figure. The concave dip of her waist and flat stomach led seamlessly to the rise of her hips. She was a tiny thing, but beautiful.

Aradia held her thick, black hair up out of the way of the dress, which slid over her skin and clung as if it had been sewn for her. She shivered as she felt the large, rough hands on her thighs, but tightened her jaw and stared at the wall of the tent.

"That's enough," she stopped him abruptly. Her breaths were shallower. Aradia was... unused to hands there. Or anywhere. The woman drew away from him when she figured he was done there, and held like a statue, back to the lord so that he could finish the accursed lacings.

Equius removed his hands from the warmth between her legs. He did so with a flash of longing; her skin was smooth and soft, with a tensed strength behind it. Equius felt both power and delicacy that made Aradia all the more irresistible.

There was intimacy in having his hands there; he felt every motion, no matter how small or subtle, of her body. She shivered at his touch, not just because she was disgusted by him, though, there was something else to it.

It took Equius a moment to figure it out. He looked up at Aradia, past her round, beautiful breasts, to her face.

“You are a virgin,” he said matter-of-factly.

It was so obvious. Of course she was so scared, she didn't have any idea what was going to happen, or how much it was going to hurt. She probably thought Equius was going to try to crush her to death or something.

He stood up heavily and walked around to her opposite side. The gown really did fit her, and left next to nothing to the imagination. She was a beautiful girl, there was no doubt about it. Why hide that fact in linens and rough-spun? If she did not understand this now, she would soon.

"No," she replied sharply. It wasn't a lie. She had done this once before.

She had been fifteen and running purely on hormones. She and Sollux had gotten their hands on a skin of strong mead and had passed it back and forth, hidden in a barn on a rainy night. It had tasted of vinegar water and honey. Their mouths had tasted of it, too, when they started to kiss, but they were both too far gone to care by that point. She'd let him under her skirts.

The next morning, both regretted it. Not that they even entirely remembered what had happened. Things had been very awkward for a time, but at eighteen they were finally getting over it again. Aradia and Sollux had both come to accept that they would have to marry. They had no other realistic options in their village, and they'd already ruined one another.

But it had only been one time, years ago, running on confused emotions and alcohol. And it had been with her best friend, whom she had known since childhood and trusted absolutely. That was completely different than this.

She felt no need to explain the issue to Equius. She pulled her hair through her hands, baring her milky neck and clearing the space for him to finish attaching the dress to her body. "...But I'd appreciate it if you did not take that as license to handle me roughly, sir."

He began to lace her up from the back. Although a much more elaborate process than the straps on her thighs, it was also far less intrusive. Lord Zahhak was well-versed in higher fashions, so he did not even need to look to properly tie the laces.

Equius frowned, pulling his head back a bit. He was truly a bad guesser, wasn't he? But it was a reasonable assumption, considering her age. Aradia lived alone; no husband, not even any sign of a lov-

Oh.

Equius felt his fists clench. That boy with the mismatched eyes. He should have known. She was doing this for him, and as long as that was true, Equius would have to deal with her wincing every time he touched her.

That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. He'd have to remedy it.

First, he had to show her that he controlled more than just her fate. Taking a deep breath, keeping his composure, Equius slid his head next to hers and hissed in her ear.
“Are you aware of the variety of methods of torture in which my men are versed? I am sure you would be astounded at the selection. I told them to do no harm to your… friend… but I could swiftly reverse that decision. My men are presently using their fists, but I only need to give the authorization and men will start with whatever sort of abominable torments they can imagine. I have been told they favor the genitals.” The comments were casually said, as if Equius was discussing what they’d be having for dinner. “They are most creative and your friend may not live until morning. And if he turns out to be innocent then there is really nothing either of us could do for him.”
Equius paused for a moment, letting the threats sink in. Aradia's breathing grew sharp and stiff, he noticed as he rested his ear against her neck. “So far you have shown very little receptiveness to my kindness. I have offered you a way to save your flock and your friend. There are a hundred peasant girls just like you who did not get that opportunity. If this is how you intend to repay my kindness then perhaps my kindness shall come to an end… I hope I am understood.”

Equius backed away from Aradia, then pointed to the several buckles on his armor that were the release points for the upper-body plates. “You will help me take off my armor. And you will convince me that you are worth the time and trouble I am putting into you.”

There it was, then. All this time, Aradia had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Equius had been too odd, too careful with her. It did not align with his slaps and strikes from earlier in the day. This made more sense, not that she was glad of it.

Aradia felt her skin crawl as his hot breath licked across her bare neck. She felt like a mouse, waiting for the cat to get it over with already, and knowing that it would do no such thing. She was going to be in for an agonizingly long night.

’Sollux Captor, I hope you appreciate what I'm doing for you,’ she thought. The knowledge that he would have done the same for her (at least, she was pretty sure he would,) was the only thing that gave her any degree of comfort.

"Yes, my lord," she said miserably. There was less concealed venom in her tone this time. Clearly Equius had found the magic words.

Chapter Text

Head tipped down, nearly bowed in submission, Aradia set to work on the lord's armor. Her small hands wedged between the jointing lobster-shell plates and found the snaps and buckles with ease. She diligently began to free him from the metal carapace, piece by piece.

Equius watched her work, standing as still as possible. The breastplate wasn't terribly easy to remove with his own hands. Normally his page handled it, but Equius had decided to give the boy the night off. Aradia would do his work for him.

She had a natural talent for it. His breastplate soon came loose, and Equius carefully lifted it over his head. Underneath the plate armor was a simple shirt of navy-blue wool, to keep him warm and safe from chafing. It wouldn't do for him to wear it while Aradia was in so stunning a garment. Equius pulled it off, too.

Beneath the shirt was his musculature, unobscured by cloth or covering. Equius was proud of how he looked. It was countless hours of practice in the courtyard that had given him the thick, rugged arms that extended from his broad shoulders.

Equius was a naturally large man, and his dedication to his violent craft had forged his body into a truly great and terrible specimen of the physical form. Even without his armor, he was still far stronger and thicker than the vast majority of men.

There were battle-scars, too. Many of them. A long, thick white line bisected his torso, going down from his left pectoral to the right of his abdomen. It was the largest wound Equius bore, though far from the oldest one. There was a long-healed gash from an axe, a pale reminder of a training blade gone awry, three old arrow wounds that thankfully missed vital organs, and more than a half-dozen other injuries that would never fully, truly heal.

Equius began to unhook his greaves from the front, then raised an eyebrow at Aradia. “Is there something you are waiting for? Get behind me and unhook my greaves from the back.”

It was quite obvious that she was staring at him. Though Aradia had slept with someone before, she might as well have been a virgin for all the experience she had. The poor maid was clearly surprised and embarrassingly fascinated by what she saw.

The single time, she'd been very drunk. Her memories of the sex itself were patchy at best. But she did recall that neither she nor Sollux had actually disrobed. Aradia had pulled up her skirt, Sollux had sagged his breeches. No further effort had been made.

Aradia had never really seen a full-grown man's body before. Lord Zahhak was a rather shocking first example. He was such a large man, deeply carved with muscle and sliced with scars... Aradia had never seen anything like it. She found it weirdly attracting, almost... fetching? Her own reaction surprised and alarmed her.

When she realized that she was gawking, a dark red blush spread across her face, tracing over the bridge of her nose and pooling in the apples of her cheeks, transforming their pale, even color. She ripped her eyes away from his chest to flick them briefly to his face, and then to the ground. "Yes, my lord," she said, hiding her embarrassment and awe beneath a stiff servile statement.

She sank to her knees behind the lord, nimble hands unfastening the buckles and straps and pulling the hard metal plates away from Equius's thick calves.

Aradia's reaction to him did not go unnoticed. Many assumed that, because Lord Zahhak was large and strong, he was also stupid. Equius didn't mind that. A battle of wills was the only time somebody would underestimate the threat he posed. Being thought of as an idiot was one of the best skills a lord could possess.

Lord Zahhak quietly flexed his arm as Aradia worked. That blush had a rather universal meaning: she found him to be as appealing as he found her. That was good. That was something to work with.

When his greaves came loose, Equius let them drop to the floor as well. Now only in his simple black pants, Equius walked over to the chest. After a moment's searching, he found what he was looking for and withdrew it.

In Equius' hands were two bundles of cloth; two exceptionally fine outfits he had come across during the campaign. He let both unfurl, taking care not to let the hem of the pants drag on the floor. Equius looked at Aradia and asked her a question in his most grave of tones.

“Orange or green. Which do you like better?”

Was he serious? A color option? And he was seeking her opinion? Was this a trap or a test or some strange ploy? Aradia really didn't know what to do with this question.
Answering it was her only real option, she supposed.

Warm red-brown eyes looked over the two sets, and then raised brows at Equius. Aradia paused there for a moment, searching his face, trying to judge why he had asked. She couldn't imagine that he actually cared for her opinion. Maybe he was attempting to set her at ease.

With his chest still bared like that, ease was one thing Aradia imagine would remain elusive, at least on her part.

"...The green," she finally said, slow and experimental, like she expected him to consider the answer incorrect and lash out at her for her folly.

Also, the orange just looked too sunny for someone so stern.

Aradia gathered up the plate armor from the ground and set it neatly on a spare table. She didn't know what to do with it, but it seemed incorrect to leave it on the floor. Her dress swished around her ankles and clung to her thighs were it strapped when the girl moved.

Equius squinted at the two outfits for a moment before nodding. “Yes I think you’re right. I have never been partial to orange myself… apparently it goes with my eyes, but I find it bright and gaudy.”

Equius discarded the orange regalia and held the green one up to the light. It was actually two shades, a darker cape and vest overlaying a grassy green undershirt and matching pants. A bit bright, but it fit him, which was a rarity for clothes Equius found.

Equius dropped the pants he was wearing and left them on the bed. He was now down to a pair of dark breeches that went down just past his thighs. Bashful, Aradia turned around as Equius dropped trou. Enraptured though his torso might have her, she didn't think she was quite ready to see anything else. Besides, her parents had raised her properly while they'd been in the world. She was no fine lady, but she was a good girl, occasional human lapses forgiven.

Feeling suddenly invigorated, Equius decided to start talking as he methodically dressed himself. “Really, the sort of fashions back at court are quite boring. Everyone wears black or some shade of blue, thus the entire city looks like it was carved from obsidian. It is quite extraneous to me. If I showed up like this back home, they would laugh me out of the city.”

It was easy for Aradia to talk to the blue fabric walls for her half of the discussion. "I wouldn't know, sir," she said. Aradia knew comparatively little of fashions and the customs of lords and ladies.

All she knew was that the orange seemed like too much. So did the green, actually, but it was not so bad as the orange.

“You, though,” Equius continued, “would be in place if you combed your hair and powdered your face. I have seen ladies of the court wear very similar dresses but they never made it look as good as you do.”

It wasn't a lie. Aradia had none of that demure passivity so many ladies spent their lives cultivating. She was wild, confident, aware and unashamed of her sexuality. At the moment, she was afraid and angry, not specifically trained to suppress her emotions at all times. Equius hoped Aradia was beginning to understand was that he merely could hurt her. It didn't mean he would hurt her.

She'd understand soon enough, he supposed. If what he was doing was easy, it wouldn't be worth doing.

When Aradia finally dared to turn and look at the man, she was relieved to find him clothed, and relaxed a bit. He was honestly handsome. That sort of annoyed her.
"Thank you...?" she said eventually, all reluctance and confusion when he complimented her.

“You are quite welcome.” Equius straightened the outfit as best he could. It wasn't tailored to him, so it was tight in a few places, but he had worn far worse. “Anyway, the biggest disappointment of this campaign was definitely was when I found this excellent blue attire. Were I only smaller, I would have worn it regularly. Unfortunately, I could hear the seams popping every time I moved my arms. The knights got a laugh out of it, so that was one good thing to arise from the debacle.”

Equius continued the idle chatter. Speaking without saying anything, the verbal equivalent of plain bread and water. Anybody could digest it, and it was the perfect set-up for a more personal conversation.

The fact he was thinking in food metaphors meant it was about time to head to dinner. After making sure the outfit wouldn't explode as soon as he started moving around, Equius walked over to Aradia. “Thank you for picking up my armor,” he acknowledged, “We are going to head to dinner now. Will you walk or would you like me to carry you?” Equius offered his arm and gave Aradia as benign a look he could without smiling.

What sort of a question was that? Who even needed to ask things like that? Though at least he'd asked this time. "I would walk," came her obvious answer.

The skirts of the dress felt strange to Aradia when she moved her legs. She'd never worn anything before that needed to be strapped on as it was. It also cupped her breasts rather more than she felt comfortable with. The material (What was it? Silk? She wasn’t sure. She’d never felt silk before.) was managing to slip and cling at the same time. The peasant maid really didn't know what to make of it.

The loose tumble of her hair didn't quite match the finery of her dress. More than that, it felt odd to have the weight of it over the light fabric. Bowing her head, Aradia combed her fingers through the thick locks and twisted it round itself, making a loop of a long strand and tugging the rest of her hair through it, effectively tying it up into a loose knotted bun. A few slim tendrils escaped, laying ink trails over her warm skin.

When she deemed herself ready and her hair secure, Aradia looked up to Equius. He was standing there, waiting for her, arm extended like an escort. Aradia didn't think that she could stomach taking his arm, so she ignored it and walked a step behind and to the side of the man. She did not quite presume to walk as his equal, but she was not lagging like a servant, either. It leveled to a dignified acknowledgment: he still didn't own her. Not knowing where they were going, she waited for him to lead.

Her refusal of his arm made him growl a bit in frustration. Fine, fine, he could work with this.

Equius strode out of the tent, looking around the camp. Most of the men were heading to the benches they had set out as a portable outside feast hall. It was loud, messy, and filled with half-drunk soldiers. Not the sort of place for a lady. The other choice was a significantly quieter officer's table, but bringing Aradia there would just be awkward and invite questions he didn't want to answer. Equius sometimes dined with his men, and sometimes dined with his officers. Some days, including today, though, he had planned to take his evening meal in solitude.

It seems that was no longer the case. Equius led Aradia through the camp, making sure to avoid any mud that seemed dead-set on getting onto his pants.
“You seemed confused by my asking to carry you,” again, Equius talked while he walked. “I apologize if I offended. It is a highborn tradition for a man to carry a woman in certain situations. It is intended to show respect and reverence, not because I believe you cannot walk on your own accord.”

Equius spotted the small, unassuming tent ahead, and made sure Aradia was behind him still. They were nearly there.

From the position she’d taken, Aradia found herself walking in the lord's shadow. ’How appropriate,’ commented a small voice in the back of her thoughts. But the sun was lowering itself considerably, and Equius was a tall man. Aradia fit into his shadow as easily as she had fit into his arms.

And speaking of fitting into his arms... "I have never heard that tradition before, my lord," she said. "Though I've never been further than a league or so from my village, so what would I know?" The words were sarcastic, but she was smart enough to keep the bite out of her tone. One or the other, she'd decided. Both would sign Sollux’s death warrant.

As they walked, she watched the camp around them. It was large, filled with many soldiers, most of them born almost as low as she. Those in higher ranks were lordlings, but the foot soldiers could be sons of farmers, carpenters, whores, and the like as easily as not. Still, Aradia felt no fondness for them. This was not a time of true war; they had chosen this life rather than being drafted. And Aradia found that she had little respect for anyone who chose such a slavish existence.

Indeed, Lord Zahhak’s men did give them a wide berth. All muttered "my lord" and most averted their eyes from Equius and the strange peasant girl behind him. That was good. Equius loathed uninvited questions; he was their lord, they had no right or business to question him without invitation.

"I’ve two legs, which is a blessing greater than some have," Aradia went on thoughtfully, brown eyes looking over the men at dinner and then casting off to the hills beyond the camp. "And they work better on the ground than in the air." A sharp double meaning, but voiced again without bite. The lass had wit.

Equius chuckled at the barbs. It was low, bawdy comedy, but Aradia was no bard; just a girl with a sharp tongue.

At the entrance to the tent, Aradia hung back. She was not so foolhardy as to assume she would enter first. And she preferred to keep Zahhak in her line of sight, as if she expected him to run her through with a blade at any moment.

Chapter Text

Equius was the first through the tent, and he was immediately hit with the smell of roasting meat. The tent was dominated by a bed of heated stones, being tended to by several gruff-looking cooks. Atop the stones was a pair of young, fat pigs. They looked quite freshly slaughtered, almost certainly from Aradia's own village. He hoped that wouldn't be an impediment.

In addition to the pigs, there was a small cauldron of a thick, orange soup. There was a wooden table large enough for the two of them to sit at, bearing a plate of leafy green vegetables and a pitcher of blood-red wine. Equius walked over to the table and pulled Aradia's chair out for her.

While waiting for her to take a seat, he glanced over to the trio of cooks. “Serve me and then leave.” The men nodded their understanding, and visibly sped up in their work.

Outside it was a warm day, sunny and with a light breeze. They were in the thick of spring, when all the trees were in leaf, though some still bore flowers that lost their petals when the wind stirred too hard. The rains had come and gone and everything was beautiful.

In this weather, Aradia was very comfortable. Even in this thinner dress, she felt just fine. But the cook tent was another story. The canvass was heavy, trapping the smoke and heat within the small space. The fired coals did not smoke, but they raised the temperature exponentially. The hot food did not help much. Even in her dress now, Aradia was awkward and out of sorts. The space was too small and the weather too fair for this cooking. She tugged uncomfortably at the neckline of her dress.

With a polite nod at Equius, Aradia took the offered seat. She really hoped that the drink was cool at least. She was suddenly quite thirsty.

Equius clanked together a set of cups and poured the two of them the wine. It was a dry wine that was popular in conjunction with the taste of pig. Equius was no wine connoisseur, but a lord was expected to have a certain amount of knowledge of the subject.

As the cook poured them both bowls of carrot-and-onion soup, Equius sat down and folded his hands. Aradia looked rather uncomfortable, tugging at her dress, shifting back in forth in her seat...was something agitating her?

Couldn't be the dress. She moved in it like she was wearing nothing. It took Equius a moment to realize that he was, in fact, sweating.

It was rather hot in here, wasn't it? Equius was so used to being baked in his armor that the warmth in the tent had utterly eluded him. Wiping his forehead with a napkin, Equius took note of the small favor that the wine had been kept chilled until recently, and was fairly cool. The cook put down the soup and a pair of pewter spoons in front of them wordlessly. Equius politely waited for Aradia to take the first bite.

He realized that he hadn't said a word to the girl in minutes. He ought to change that. Then again, she barely spoke to him in the first place. Another thing he needed to change. “Let us play a game,” he said abruptly, “You will ask me a question and I will answer honestly, then I will ask you a question and you will answer honestly. Would you like to start or should I?”

Though this game did not match Aradia's idea of a fun dinner conversation, she decided to play along. It would be wiser to let him have whatever silliness he wanted. Perhaps she could ease through the rest of the evening if she did.

Aradia’s dainty hand reached forward to take her glass of wine. She lifted it with a slight degree of awkwardness, but got it to her mouth and took a drink without spilling a drop. It was cooling enough to soothe the stifling tent and Aradia was appreciative.

The way she helda spoon was awkward as well. If Equius would have thought about it, he'd figure out why: peasants didn't have glasses for their wine or spoons for their soups. They had flagons and skins, hands and daggers. Aradia had never used a spoon.

For a first timer though, she did fairly well. Her chin and the dress stayed free of spatters.

Equius watched Aradia struggle with the soup with a modicum of amusement. He supposed she wouldn't have much experience with utensils living in that glorified mud pit. But the real point of interest came when Aradia made eye contact with him.

Brown locked on to blue and studied him for a moment. A question. Any question. This was a rare opportunity. She couldn't squander it. But she couldn't jump directly into a major question either. Aradia needed to find a slow introduction, something to guide her into bigger questions, questions that could make this night bearable and perhaps help Sollux later.

The lord recognized a plot hatching behind those flickering brown eyes. Equius didn't think she was with the Signless, but he still had to tread carefully; if she was indeed as an agent of that criminal, then any information he gave could potentially be exploited.

"....Alright." She took another sip of wine and thought about it again. When she thought she had something, she set down her drink and looked across the table at her companion. "You are a Lord. What are you inheriting?" An easy enough question, and informative. He'd already given her a basic response to this, but his reaction alone would tell her volumes.

Luckily, the question was just about what Equius expected. He breathed out a bit when he heard it, and lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips. “You may not have heard of it. My family has owned a fortress we call the Stronghold for a dozen generations. When my father passes it will be mine. May he live another hundred years.” Equius had no desire to take his father’s position. Being a lord’s son was a mess of politics and ruses already. Why expose himself to the full brunt of it as the lord himself?

A hundred years sounded like quite the overstatement. Aradia was too late to stifle her snort of derision. A simple person would have said let's hope that doesn't happen or but that won't be for a long time, god willing, or they might have knocked on wood. When Equius said it, it sounded dry and formal and silly. It sounded like something he said just to say it, giving no thought to the actual meaning of his words. Aradia didn't have much respect for things like that.

Lord Zahhak might have scared her, and that was fairly obvious. But she was not intimidated by him. And she certainly did not respect him. Rank, power, land, lofty birth... none of it seemed to impress the plain shepherdess. The moment Equius lost his grip on the things he held above her head, he would lose control of her. And they both knew it.

Equius decided, after a moment, that the soup was adequate. He sipped some wine and continued talking. “Now it is my turn to ask you a question. Where is your family?”

Her smirk fell away at that. He'd found a sore spot. Aradia stiffened her spine slightly, stalling for time by slowly sipping a few spoonfuls of soup. These days, she tried not to think about her parents overmuch. They had been wonderful, very good to her, and being without them was still painful to the girl.

"In the churchyard," she replied literally. "They passed away a little more than a year ago. A roof collapsed over their heads." Aradia sounded detached, but her muted tone showed that this hurt her. She lifted her wine and took a drink. "Gods rest their souls," she murmured into the cup.

“Gods rest their souls,” Equius echoed Aradia's last words, then drank to them as well. He had expected as much, but at least the answer wasn't ‘gone to join the Signless forces’.

After a moment, Equius sat back in his chair and took another sip contemplatively. This was quickly going nowhere. There had to be a way to salvage the situation, but how?

“You did not ask me another question.” Okay, fine, not the most cunning plot ever, but Lord Zahhak needed something to build from. The best he could do otherwise was tell the story of his mother's death; great dinner conversation.

Unfortunately, after that last question, Aradia's will to be flippant and find a way to annoy her captor (because that was how she was viewing it; she certainly felt like a prisoner) was draining away. Her thoughts had turned to her late parents. What would they say if they saw her now? All dressed up like a fine lady, having dinner with a highborn lord... who had already seen her naked, expected her to sleep with him, and who had her there under duress.

What would they say? Would they be angry at her for throwing herself away like this? Proud of her for doing whatever she had to do to protect her friend and her livelihood? Aradia suspected that they would just be sad. She was glad they couldn't see her now. She was ashamed of herself enough as it was.

Though it wasn't a smart thing to do, Aradia took another drink of the wine. She didn't think it was strong enough to get her truly intoxicated, but it might make everything a little more bearable. "Do you make a habit of-" she started, but stopped abruptly. No. No, Aradia. That was stupid. Sorely stupid. She could already feel the bruises starting to bloom where he'd struck her earlier. She didn't need any more. And asking him if he forced many peasant girls into exchanging their bodies for the privilege of a continued existence was bound to anger the lord.

She stirred at her soup before replacing the question. "Do you have any children?" that was better. It sounded much more innocent. And if Equius had a family waiting for him, perhaps she could use them to talk him out of this.

Equius raised an eyebrow at the half-formed question that escape Aradia's lips. No doubt a question of whether or not she was the first peasant girl to earn this treatment.

The answer was that she was, but that wasn't the question Aradia had settled on. Equius would answer the one that was posed. His children. Another predictable one. Naked attempts to try to escape, as easy to see coming as a warhammer. Equius swallowed the soup in his mouth before answering.

“Two bastards, a son and a daughter. Neither carries my name. I expect that will change swiftly enough when I return home - I am due to be wed to some harpy from House Serket.” That was enough, Equius thought. He saw no need to indulge Aradia and tell her about where those bastards came from unless she specifically asked.

Damn it all. That answer was even worse than no children. That answer indicated that he clearly had no qualms about this. And it also begged another question, her original thought. She couldn't not ask it now.
But she would wait for her turn.

"Congratulations," she said, probably sarcastically, when he spoke of his engagement. She ate a little more, giving herself time to think of a decent way to answer. She didn't have any thought better than the simple truth of things.

“Lets see,” Equius went on, “I believe it is my turn. The boy that is in my custody, let us say he is guilty of the crimes he is accused of. What would you do to save him?” Equius let the question hang in the air as he took a long drink of wine. It was clear to him that Aradia was here for him; a thought that gave Equius no small amount of grief. He had to judge exactly what sort of loyalty Aradia possessed for the boy.

"That boy's name is Sollux," she told Equius, looking up at him. A stray tendril of hair fell over her face. Her eyes seemed like a dark red in the shadows of the tent. "He's my best friend. We grew up together. He was there for me when my parents passed, he's always done whatever he could to help me. And I'm probably going to have to marry him at some point."

Aradia's word choice didn't go unnoticed by Equius. Have to? Did she expect to never have to marry him? Aradia, though, didn't seem to realize she'd said anything odd. "He isn't guilty. He would never do anything to hurt anyone." Her mouth was a set, hard line. "I would do whatever would be necessary. He doesn't deserve to die at your hands."

“Sollux.” Equius let the name roll around on his tongue a bit. Sollux. Hmm. Not a bad name. Suited him, at least.

As expected, the boy... Sollux… was more than a friend to Aradia. There was very little doubt in Equius' mind that she had given up her virginity to him. Her faith in him was strong. This girl could have very easily been born with some modicum of magical power. Of course, there wasn't much for Aradia to do with that magic that was born from the strong emotions she felt, not without decades of training.

For a moment, then, Aradia was silent, allowing what she’d said to linger. She wasn't even blinking. But it was her turn. "Are your bastards from girls like me?" she asked, meaning obvious.

“No,” Equius closed his eyes when Aradia's question came. He expected it, as well, but that didn't make the memory any less painful. This time, the warhammer came crashing into his stomach.

“There was a girl… she was a lady but from a family minuscule in power and wealth compared to my own. She had been my best friend from a very young age. One night we had both had an excessive amount to drink…” he paused, “The children are twins. She died giving birth to them.”

Equius drained his glass of wine. It did nothing to assuage the sudden emptiness he felt whenever he thought of Nepeta. He hadn't even loved her. He had killed his best friend.

Aradia didn’t know what she had been expecting. Perhaps for him to leer at her and inform her that it had indeed been girls like her or that those girls had been all too excited to carry his bastards. But that was not what she found at all. She really did not know what to make of these sudden flashes of humanity she was seeing. They cast a confusing light over everything.

"I'm so sorry," she said, surprising herself. She had never expected to apologize to the likes of him. But there was nothing else to say. And, more than that, she meant it. The same fate could easily have met her and Sollux.

Equius merely grunted at the apology. Sorry didn't change anything. Sorry was a term for lords and ladies when they could do nothing to improve a bad situation. Sorry was, in effect, worthless. The lord shook his head vigorously, as if that would drive the thoughts from his mind. It had been nearly a decade since she passed, but it still felt like it had happened only hours ago. “I believe it is my turn. Earlier you said that you might have to marry Sollux - Are you implying that you do not want to marry him?”

Aradia leaned back in her chair slightly. How to answer his question... "No, sir," she said simply, "I don't want to marry him. He's my best friend. I love him. But I don't love him." Aradia half-chuckled dryly. "Vain of me, to want a love match. He feels the same, I know." Worse, he was terribly in love with another girl. He'd told Aradia vague details about her; wealthy and high-born, but that’s all the knowledge he was willing to impart. Well, that and, apparently, it was love at first sight. Aradia didn’t know if she believed that, but she didn’t plan on telling Lord Zahhak. That was too much for him to use against her friend.
She had planned on asking something else, but the question that spilled from her lips was, "Do you love your children?"

He mulled her answer over for a minute. Equius was struck with the thought she would do anything for Sollux, much like how he would have done anything for Nepeta. A friendship so powerful, it might as well be called love.

How awful for Aradia, then.

The question about his children was the first from Aradia to actually surprise Lord Zahhak. He had never asked himself that question before. Everything he had ever done for the two had been what came naturally to him, an instinctive protection of his blood.

“The boy is apprenticed to a blacksmith. The girl will one day be a weaver,” he told her. “I have not seen them since they were born, though I occasionally check up on them or purchase something small for them. They do not know I am their father. The families I gave them to raise them like they were their own. I might not raise them, but they are my responsibility. No, I do not think that I love them.”

It was quite sad, hearing about his children. He'd lost his best friend and her children. His children. Maybe she just didn't understand how the gently born classes did things, but it didn't seem right to her. It didn't seem fair. Not fair for the man, not fair for those children... it was just sad. Aradia was not without compassion. Even for someone as wretched as Lord Zahhak.

“My turn, then.” Equius finished his soup and gestured for the cook to bring out the pork, the main course. “Your friend Sollux had a Signless necklace around his throat, meaning that the rebels must have at least entered your village at some point. What do you know of the Signless and his rebellion?”

Chapter Text

Even when the food arrived, Aradia didn't touch it. Pork was an exorbitant meal, one she had only had once before in her life, but she loathed the taste. In fact, she really wasn't hungry anymore. Something about this entire exchange was making her lose her appetite.

He wanted to know what she knew of the Signless. He obviously thought she knew something, or he would not have wasted his valuable time asking. The necklace felt heavy about her neck, and Aradia tried not to display her discomfort. So perhaps she had heard a few mutterings. Perhaps she had even heard an impassioned (if whispered) debate here and there. Perhaps she thought that a few of his ideas were good ones, if radical. But Aradia had never charged into any meeting or followed any of the Signless’s suggestions or teachings. At least, not with that intent. She had her lot in life, meager though it was, and she accepted that. And, really, what were a few overheard mutterings? That didn’t mean she knew much at all.

"Nothing" she said firmly. "I'm not involved. And I doubt that Sollux really is, either. He probably found the necklace and didn't know the meaning." Her gaze was unwavering, almost frighteningly intense. Her conviction was admirable.

After a while she calmed down and took another sip of wine.

Equius dug into the pig as soon as it was ready. He was very rarely not hungry, and fresh pork was his favorite; not the salted, tasteless stuff that the army was usually stuck with.

He found it odd that Aradia didn't seem interested in the food. It was hardly extravagant, but Equius had never known a peasant to turn down spiced meat. Hell, he had never known a lord to turn down spiced meat.
Her unwavering optimism in Sollux was somewhat amusing, too. Where did she think he got the necklace? Did he make a habit of wearing a cold iron necklace around his neck for no good reason without telling or showing anyone?

"You asked what I'd do to save Sollux," Aradia said, returning to the question she should have asked before she'd slipped about his children. "Did you have something in mind?" Her tone was flat, devoid of expression or inflection.

Her question made Equius' eyebrows go up, and he looked up from the food. Swallowing, he took a moment to calculate his answer. “I was wondering if you would fight for him. I have an idea that I will tell you about later.” Yes, that might very well be perfect. It would take some planning, but it could have, potentially, excellent results.

The way Aradia stared at the lord was almost bird-like. Her eyes were already large and dark, and when she cocked her head to one side and blinked, she might as well have been some odd fowl. But a swan or a sparrow... that was a more difficult call. Clearly Aradia hadn’t been expecting such a response. Though, really, who could blame the poor thing? ‘Fight for him?’ What could he possibly have up his sleeves? Did he mean literally? Aradia had never so much as struck anyone, before all of this. Before today. Now her thoughts were consumed with the desire to slap Lord Zahhak for his cheek, but even so she was able to contain herself.

“Now my turn again, I believe,” said Equius cheerfully, ignoring Aradia’s sudden flood of emotions. “Why do you think I took you?” Equius was feeling better already. That void that felt like it was about to rip him in half was gone, replaced with a sort of low-key energy. He thought he might have actually figured out a way to bring Aradia around.

"I was under the impression that you did this to take me to your bed," she said, suddenly not so sure, though she had her suspicions. "You told me it was my body or my flock. I can't imagine any other use you'd find for my body." Her tone was flavored with just the slightest undercurrent of anger, but was beginning to mimic the lines of resentment. "I have never had reason to fight anyone," Aradia said abruptly, "What are you saying, my lord? Were my assumptions mistaken?"

It was all Equius could do to restrain himself from humming. He had missed the crucial step, but now that he understood what he had to do, everything became as clear as day to him.

His response would have to be measured and careful. This was a risky move; his confidence must not err. “House Serket has a long tradition of female spies and warriors,” he looked at the girl across the table, “I once fought a female knight of theirs in a tourney. She gave me this.” Equius lifted his neck to show a long, white scar running from his Adam's Apple to the base where his spine ended. He had beaten the knight, in the end, but he saw no reason to mention that. “I see some potential in you. With proper training you may very well become a knight one day. I would say that is a use for your body, yes.”

So silent was the tent that a passerby might have thought that someone had died. The coals popped in the fire, and Lord Zahhak's fork clinked mutedly against his dish. Aradia could hear her own breath, a slow woosh, and her own pulse, a dull thrum, in her throat and in her ears.

Did he really mean to suggest that he would make her into a knight? That was preposterous! She was no warrior. She was a farm girl, plain as the dirt beneath her feet. And she had never thought to alter that.

Equius filled his mouth with pork while he considered his next question. He swallowed, then spoke. “Do you think you will be happy spending the rest of your life in that village?”

Aradia saw to the question before the answer. "I think I will be happy when you leave me alone. I think I will be happy when you let my friend free. I think I will be happy when I see you and your men shrink and then vanish over the horizon." Her gaze and tone were both steely.

“You did not answer my question,” Equius said softly.

"I came close enough." The truth of it was that Aradia didn’t know if she'd be happy here for the rest of her life. This was the first time she'd imagined another option. There was no real opinion to be had, not yet.
Never once in her life had Aradia ever thought that she would be anywhere but her village. There was never a reason for her to imagine a different life, because it simply wasn't possible. "Why would you offer a deal like this?" she asked, sharp and suspicious, "Why would you want to elevate a shepardess to knighthood? That’s an honor that the sons of lords spend years trying to achieve." Her eyes narrowed at him. She was starting to fray at the edges of her carefully constructed calmness. "What reason could you possibly have for this?"

Equius kept his eyes on Aradia as he chewed. She was suspicious, no doubt of his motives for asking what he had asked. But suspicion was not necessarily resentment towards the idea; in all likelihood, it was totally alien to her. With time, perhaps the idea would grow on her. And Equius was very interested in seeing what sort of person Aradia would be without that hesitance and inhibitions that currently shackled her. “I like women possessing a certain internal strength,” he explained. “Why do you think I took you? Most peasant girls cower before me. You stood to me as an equal, despite your utter helplessness. You are either brave or incredibly stupid; both are good traits for a knight to possess.”

Equius looked down at his plate and realized there was nothing left of the pig. Ah, well. “Merely having sex and forgetting you would be crass. Perhaps I see something more in you. Perhaps I do not want to let you go so quickly. But I will not take you from your life if you do not want to go.”

"And how do you propose I'd be trained to become some knight? Who besides you would suffer me?" A brow rose pointedly. "You're barely suffering me as it is." Stupidly, Aradia caught herself wishing she could push him, irk him, make him lose it. That could only end badly for her, but she disliked him so intensely that it would almost be a pleasure to infuriate him.

Equius glanced at Aradia's dish, mostly untouched, “You had best eat before it gets cold.” It was his turn then. What would he say for it? “Ah, a question… let me think… If your friend Sollux is guilty of what we accuse him of, then I shall have little choice but to behead him. If I do what will you do?”

"Sollux is not guilty," she said, looking up so sharply that her pretty necklace bounced once on her breastbone. "And if you hurt him, I will kill you." The words were so abrupt that they could not possibly be bravado. "I don’t care if I have knight training or not. I don’t care how many men you have. I don’t care how strong you are. And I don’t care what happens to me after I succeed. If he loses his life, you will lose yours." She let that hang in the air. Aradia was not about to put up with all of this just to see her friend lose his head.

She expected that to anger Lord Zahhak. She expected him to lose his cool and snap at her for her defiance and her threats. But all he did was nod in acknowledgement.

Once, he would have made the same threats for Nepeta. He actually understood where she was coming from. And, remarkably, he could sympathize. “Very well,” he said calmly, “Let us both hope then, for your sake, he has nothing of interest to say.”

And besides, Nepeta would have wanted him to keep his head here.

That threw her. As her temper grew hotter, Aradia would have thought that it would drive Lord Zahhak to grow angrier as well. She would have expected him to explode at her with his own rage. But he did no such thing. And suddenly Aradia wasn't so sure how to handle this situation.

Like some chastised child, she wilted back in her seat, staring at the man. She reached for her glass but found it to be empty. It felt too hot in here; she did not like it. "...You said I had some sort of fire," she said, unsure if that was really his word choice or if the stuffy tent was influencing her memories, "I talked back to you. That made me stand out for you, I suppose." She wasn't asking, although it almost turned into a question somewhere near the end. Aradia didn't follow it up with a new query, preferring to wait and see where this would lead. He was clearly going somewhere, after all. It was almost starting to resemble a conversation now.

Equius was pleased to see Aradia finally start to relax. The wine pitcher had emptied without them noticing it, so Equius ordered the final cook to fetch them a second one. He then nodded at what she said regarding the fire she held. She had a better grasp on the situation than Equius had thought.

“Quite. You showed bravery and resilience in the face of overwhelming adversity; even now you continued to defy me. It is more than a fire. It is a will like few I have ever seen.” If he was expecting a response here, he did not receive one. He went on/ “Were our roles switched I am not sure I would have been able to hold out as long as you did. You have piqued my interest, Aradia. If you are smart about it this may be the wisest thing you have ever done. I would like to see you succeed. I enjoy your companionship even when you are entirely hostile. It does not hurt that you are absolutely gorgeous as well.” Equius stated it all as matter-of-fact. There was nothing hyperbolic about his statements. He said what he meant, nothing more.

And here he had thought today was going to be boring and tiresome.

And here she had being doing her very best to give him Hell and he was enjoying himself? Her frustration grew, and her mouth quirked.

"Surely you must enjoy pain if you find my companionship enjoyable," Aradia said as she pushed food around her plate with the uneven, travel-worn tines of her fork. "And I thought I just heard you say that you'd found plenty of peasant girls prettier than me? I can't be all that special, 'fire' or not." Perhaps it was the dim light and this dress. The neckline was drooping to reveal more of her collarbone than Aradia really would prefer.

Equius sat there, watching Aradia's temper flare once more. Fire indeed, a leaping, angry flame that is certain to singe a few fingers.

He liked it.

“Pretty is a measure of physical attractiveness,” he told her, “I would not expect you to understand that true beauty requires more than simply an attractively proportioned body. It is what is done with that body that counts.”

"All I do with this body is what any body would do,” she countered, “I eat. I sleep. I watch my flock. I walk until my feet protest. What I do is nothing special."

Either she was trying to deflect his attentions or she couldn't take a compliment. It was difficult to discern which. Equius had nothing further to say about Aradia's body. It was clear she wouldn't understand what he meant without a long, tedious conversation. Equius had engaged court maesters in such discussions in the past, but they were men with decades of learning and experience. Aradia, in all likelihood, had never read a book in her life.

"What are you and your men trying to do out here?" she asked suddenly, curious and seemingly tired of taking jabs at Lord Zahhak, "Why are you leading them so far from any decent city?"

The pitcher of wine came, and Equius poured them both new glasses. He then drained a third of his before answering the question. “We are one of three war parties. House Makara clashed with the Signless a month ago and drove them back, but the rest of the force melted into the mountains. If we do not hunt them down then they will rebuild and attack again. Thus we must search the wilderness until we can corner their army. This is my third campaign and easily the most monotonous. Perhaps you will help me remedy that. If not for years, then at least for one night.”

Equius sat back in his chair. Some, once drunk, got angry or mirthful. Equius just got contemplative, and he never drank enough to lose control of his faculties. “Have you ever been in a fight before?” he questioned, “How did it go?”

The second glass of wine was having more of an effect on Aradia than the third had on Equius. This was unsurprising, as she was so much smaller than he was. Though thirsty, she tried to take it easy and slowed down when her head began to feel pleasantly light. The peasant didn't have to think hard about her next answer. "I've never fought with anyone. I didn't have any siblings growing up. And I've never had any reason to pick a fight. If you truly believe I'll be a good knight, I think you are mistaken."

The fact she had never raised a hand against someone came as a surprise. Aradia knew how to take a punch, and she had recovered from it thrice quicker than Equius had expected her to. That was almost always a learned skill, not a natural one.

Almost always. Equius blinked twice as he realized Aradia must have an incredibly high pain tolerance without having ever been hit before. How much talent did she have?

He decided to keep that thought to himself.

"Who is this Signless?" asked Aradia, tossing off any lingering hint of suspicion Lord Zahhak might have harbored. "In spite of what you seem to think, Sollux has never told me anything about it. I don't take much to politics. And what makes you hate him so much?"

The question was an easy one. By this point, Equius had little doubt that Aradia was truthful in what she said about not knowing anything. A lie seemed unlikely from a girl who expressed both such conviction and ignorance. “He is a peasant of the lowest standing, raised by a matron from Maryam Island. He is, by all accounts, well spoken and charismatic. This has won him the support of many towns and villages, even the local lords, in his fight to overthrow the Empress. Worse, he has started to gain support: House Pyrope refused to send a single man against him. Luckily, the combined forces of the rest of the noble houses will bring him to justice. I have lost several friends in his raids…or his men's raids, rather. I'm under the impression he himself does not fight.

"His army never engages in the open field, like cowards they attack, then simply melt into the brush. But we have driven them back to the mountains, where the revolution started. We must scour the entire range, one town at a time, until we find him. Alas, the best we can find are his spies and agents. And whatever information they give is worthless; I am not willing to brutally torture on suspicions alone. House Makara has no such qualms, so I suspect they will find him before I do… that is not a fate I would wish on even the Signless.”

She followed along the thread he set with the Signless. "But what does he preach to bring the highborn to hate him so?" she asked curiously. "No one would raise against the Empress for nothing."

Aradia didn’t really know a thing about the Empress. As Equius had said, they were far from her seat of power in the Capitol. Her interactions with Equius today was the closest she ever came to the politics of the high lords.

Today. Was it really still just today? It felt as if she'd been subjected to this for ages. It must have been growing quite dark on the other side of the tent canvas.

Equius drank to quench his thirst after his speech. “Why the Signless does what he does eludes me,” he replied, “Perhaps he simply believes his own nonsense.”

Equius reclined in the chair, sipping his wine contemplatively. Soldiers were trained not to think, but to fight. Equius spent all his time worrying about logistics and possible ambushes and food supplies, not the philosophical reason for why he was swinging his sword. He was tired of thinking about the Signless and the war. For one night, he wanted to put it out of his mind.

Chapter Text

It was his turn, now, wasn't it? Equius had to figure out what made Aradia Aradia.

“Excluding the death of your parents and the events that have transpired today, what was the most difficult thing you ever had to experience?”

"The most difficult thing?" she frowned. Most things paled in comparison to her parents' passing. That had been so horrible that no hardship she ever encountered even measured up to it.

"I almost died once," she said eventually, "I was in the nearest town, for a very important market day. I was very young and my parents had let me run off to play. I met some other little girls who invited me to come with them to the woods. I remember that one of them was very sharp, all angles, and she had clouded eyes that made her squint at everything. The other had a mean way of talking, like everything had to be a joke to jab someone else." Aradia was looking at her glass, watching the wine catch the firelight as she spoke. "Looking back, I think they might have been of a gentle birth. But it’s difficult to say.”

That comment caught Lord Zahhak's attention. He knew that, in times of peace, several noble families went to small summer estates they held for vacations. The local holdfast was more than fifteen miles up the road... this was quite the isolated little village.

House Pyrope, however, owned an estate not too far from here. The eldest daughter of that family had lost her eyesight in an "accident" some years back, but before that, her eyes had a bizarre squinting quality not unlike the one Aradia just exposited.

Hmm. It was a possibility, he supposed.

“Anyway,” the peasant girl went on, “they brought me to a stream. We were just playing, soaking our feet, and I accidentally splashed the mean girl. She got angry and pushed me under the water. She held me there until her friend pulled her off. I'd almost drowned by then... It was terrible." For a moment the young woman's face darkened. But she recovered soon enough.

"I survived and learned not to trust everyone I meet," she shrugged and took a sip of wine, controlled but enough to perpetuate her light-headedness. She returned fire with a smile. "What is your happiest memory?" An equally personal question.

The story sounded like nothing more than children playing to Equius. With a touch of bitterness, he considered how some water in Aradia's lungs taught her what a dagger to the shoulder taught him.

“My happiest memory came in my first campaign,” he said. “I was young and inexperienced and had been unhorsed by an arrow. Perhaps a half dozen of their men fell on me and started to rip my armor off so they could get at my flesh. I was sure I was about to die. But then my hand grasped a sword and the next thing I knew I had killed them all. I can remember the euphoria as if it had just worn off. I was laughing mad for hours afterwards.” Equius bowed his head, showing the scar that split his hair. “That is how I got this one. It is the closest I have ever come to dying.”

Just as he thought her awful memory underwhelming, she found his pleasant memory dreadful. The disbelief and even mild horror rolling through Aradia's mind was clear enough in her big, dark eyes.

"You find it enjoyable then?" Aradia followed-up, "Your station? You like fighting people, killing people?" She was staring dead at him. The hesitation and fearfulness that had fused her eyes to the ground before seemed to have been washed away for the most part, by wine or by time. "You can stand in the middle of a group and cut them down with no regrets? Does it never..." she searched in the air for a word, "...trouble you? You never think on their souls, their families? Every one of those you've slain was someone's brother, husband, father... sons, at the very least."

Though her words sounded passionate, her voice remained level. She wasn't arguing with him or attempting to persuade him. If anything, she was trying to nudge him into more active thought.
"And, my lord, don't give me the excuse that you had to do it or they would kill you. I know that, and it isn't what I'm asking."

Equius found the question distasteful. The sort of thing only someone who had never fought before would ask. He drained his glass before answering. “When I was four years old, my father put me in training. I was taught archery and swordsmanship and horsemanship when most boys were playing in meadows and streams. I killed my first man when I was fourteen, a murderer being executed. I was made to take his head by my father. That was not an ample test, he told me. Two years later I came of age and my father gave some fool a bag of gold to try and kill me after I had bathed. It was my final test. I killed the assassin with my bare hands. That satisfied my father. A year later, I went on the campaign I just told you about.”

Damn it, he was getting nostalgic. Worse, he was getting emotional. He was starting to tire of this game. “After that first campaign, I felt as though nothing could ever harm me. I killed six men, by myself. At home, I was my father’s idiot son, but on the battlefield, I was an invincible terror, one that men feared and cowered from. I was something more than a sack of flesh. War and killing are not my profession, they are me. I am what I am. I have wasted enough of my life hating that.”

If Aradia showed any emotion at all in hearing Lord Zahhak's story, it was a flicker of sadness well-concealed. A four year old, a mere baby, having to fight like that. Peasants like Aradia lived short, brutal lives filled with hard work and little rest. But in her family at least there had been the luxury of affection. A luxury that this young lord, for all his power and gold and all his fine trappings, had gone without. Aradia couldn’t even imagine her father sending someone to try to kill her. She didn’t want to.

"When I was four," she said pensively, "I was learning to sew at my mother's knee. I was learning to gather wood, to cook, to chase the geese out of the garden." It sounded idyllic compared to the training of which Equius spoke. But the truth was in their omissions. Equius might have spent the day mocking battles, but he had servants to wait on him, rich food, and silken pillows to meet him when he slept. Aradia had only what food her family could grow or cook themselves. One wolf or too much rain and they went hungry. If Aradia burned dinner they went hungry. If taxes were too high they went hungry. At night she had a pallet in the loft. Still, Aradia preferred the caring her parents had shown her over the necessary paranoia of the Zahhak household. "When I was fourteen, I was an adult. I had the same responsibilities as everyone else. Still do. No tests. Just hard work."

He was feeling annoyed, and angry. As a result, he barely listened to Aradia's story. What did a shepherd know of pain and sacrifice? The peasantry seemed to think themselves so much worse off than the nobility, but they were all equally miserable; just in different ways.

“Now these girls you mentioned,” he changed the subject, “Why did you not fight back? Was she simply stronger than you?”

Their give-and-take had become almost natural at this point. At least less forced. "I did not fight back because I was not expecting it. One moment I was apologizing for getting her wet, and the next thing I knew I was underwater. She was older than me... there wasn't much I could do about it." Aradia tugged at her dress, still uncomfortable in the tent. Her food was as close to finished as it was going to be by now, and she was slightly restless.

"Are you the sort who likes his scars or detests them?" she asked to distract herself.

Equius glanced down into the pitcher. There was still enough for two glasses, and they had been eating for the better part of two hours. The sun was most likely setting by now. “My feelings towards the scars vary depending on how I got them. Some I am proud of, some I am not. I hate this one for instance.” Equius rolled up his sleeve to show a small, deep white scar on his forearm. “A man dealt me this in a village not severely different from your own. A Signless operative attempting to assassinate me. I had to kill him while his wife and daughter watched.”

Taking the pitcher in one gnarled hand, Equius refilled his and Aradia's cups, then picked them both up and stood up. “I am tired of this game,” he announced, “We are returning to my tent. You are going to want to finish your wine.”

The girl rose when the lord did. She smoothed her dress as she stood and nodded when he took the wine. She suspected he was right on that count. She let him lead the way from the cloying tent, and found that her heart rate had sped with nerves.

The walk was awkward and nearly silent. She shut her mouth and walked alongside her 'host' - for want of a better word. She was tempted to call him her captor, as she certainly felt like his hostage. But, technically, Aradia supposed that she could walk out at any time. It would be a death warrant for herself and for Sollux, but she could. If it weren't for her friend, she might have done so. The night was growing chill, at least compared to the stifling tent. Aradia shivered and gooseflesh rose on her thin, bare arms. If it was from apprehension or from the temperature, she could not say.

Equius drank as he walked, trying to figure out what time it was. He was hardly in a good mood; the thoughts of his trials, his first campaign, Nepeta...all of them were dark thoughts. Thoughts that he had worked every day to keep out of his head.

When they reached his tent, Equius held the flap open for Aradia. It was time for the trial. That thought gave him some slight spark of reprieve. “I need to go get something,” he explained, “Have a few minutes of patience.”

She bade him a curt nod and she entered with her cup of wine for company. Alone, she stared at the bloody liquid. He'd said she'd want to drink it. If his intentions were as she suspected, then he was correct. Aradia swished the liquid and stared at it, letting it transfix her as her necklace often did, willing herself to be distracted. It wasn't really working.

Equius downed the rest of his wine, then set the glass down at the foot of the tent's door. He then walked down to the armory, his feet dragging a bit. He might have had just a touch too much to drink. At the armory, it took the smith half a minute to find what Lord Zahhak asked for: a pair of thin, light steel gauntlets; the smallest pair of gauntlets they had. They looked to be about the right size.

He carried them back to his tent and, when he was inside, brought them to Aradia, who watched the lord's every approaching step. The tent was... yes, spacious enough for this. Luckily, the warm, sheer material of the tent preserved heat, so the cold in the tent was hardly unbearable.

The metal in his hands made her brown eyes narrow and her head tilt to a side. Gloves? They were heavy in her grasp when he handed them to her. She set her wine aside on a table. “Try these on,” he instructed her, “They ought to fit.”

Thin, tapered fingers flexed as Aradia obeyed the instruction and slid them on over her hands. They were not snug, and there was a little much room at the tips of her fingers, but they fit better than she would have expected. They were serviceable.

As Aradia got used to the gloves, Equius walked around to her other side and began to untie the lacings of her dress. He worked silently and deftly, quickly removing the only thing keeping the dress tight against Aradia's lithe body. It was good to see the drink hadn't slowed his reflexes.

Fabric rustled and Aradia felt rough, callused hands touch her soft skin. Her head turned very sharply to look down at the lord's hands, and then flicked up to his face. The fact that he was removing her clothes did not surprise her. But that in conjunction with the gloves... Her face was plain confusion.

Equius watched as Aradia flexed her fingers in the gauntlets. He remembered his first gloves; shorter and thicker than the ones Aradia was wearing, but similar in design. He was only thirteen, and had not yet built the muscle for a larger suit of armor.

The dress came loose, and Equius slowly pulled the dress' sleeves down. The blue fabric collapsed in a heap on the floor. The bewilderment he saw in the girl’s face wasn't surprising. He'd be confused, too. Taking the cold steel on her hands into his own palm, he felt for how the glove fit. Well enough; could stand to be tighter, but it was foolish to hope for a better fit for any piece of armor not made explicitly for her.

Equius picked up the dress, his eyes meeting Aradia's beautiful chest. Frowning, Aradia brought up her arms to cover herself, concealing her chest to the best of her ability. Yes, he’s already seen her, but he hadn’t seemed to really be looking before. The sparkling red gemstone of her necklace hung heavy between the slight globes of her breasts, the delicate gold chain standing out against her cream-colored skin.

Baring his teeth in anticipation, Equius took several steps back, towards his bed. Equius removed his cloak, then let both it and the dress rest on his bed. Finally, he returned to Aradia and showed the nearly-nude girl his palm.

“Hit me,” he said, “as hard as you can.”

Chapter Text

Aradia’s hands felt strange, too heavy for her arms with the added weight of the metal. The girl was unaccustomed to wearing armor of any sort, and this situation made her awkward enough as it was.  "You're toying with me, my lord," she said, voice accusatory, eyes narrowed in calculation. "You don't find this rather underhanded?" If she struck him, she'd show him all. It was a cruel game for Equius to play with the peasant. But she didn't have a choice. Frown worsening, she took a step forward and threw a punch, weak and obvious.

Equius stared at her hand as if it was caked in filth.

No, he hadn't done a thing to alleviate her confusion.

Yes, her actions were understandable.

Still, punishment must be meted.

His hand darted out, stopping just an inch short of Aradia's forehead. Equius held it there for a moment, then lightly flicked her. "Ouch!" Aradia protested weakly, wincing and drawing back, though the strike was considerably less than anything she'd been expecting.

“I said to hit as hard as you could. I did not even feel that. When I said to hit as hard as you could,” he hovered over her menacingly, though his tone was merely annoyed, “I meant for you to hit as hard as you could.” Equius rolled his eyes, then unbuttoned his tunic. The shirt came off, and Equius pulled his muscular arms out of the sleeves. His chest was now as bare as Aradia's. “You are not going to fight in a dress. Be happy I am giving you a chance to get comfortable in how much you are wearing.”

Reaching down, Equius unhooked his breeches and dropped them too. Now he, like Aradia, was only in his smallclothes and shoes. “Now I am baring as much as you.” Raising his hand again, Equius spoke again, more gently. “Hit me as hard as you can.”

Standing back with her arms folded across her chest, Aradia watched her host disrobe. A hot flush rose in her cheeks, which horrified the young woman. How could she be blushing at a time like this? This was foolish! She'd seen his flesh earlier anyway. Perhaps it was the wine. That would be a most convenient excuse. She needed a convenient excuse.

If someone had stopped her on the road this morning and informed her that she would spend her evening half-naked in a warcamp, boxing with a man she barely knew, she would have been quite sure they were mad. But here she was all the same. Life was odd.

Aradia set her jaw, clenching her teeth. She took a step forward and turned to one side, making herself a smaller target. One hand drew back and the muscles in her arm tensed, loading her fist with power. She let it fly and smacked her fist solidly into the center of Equius's palm, keeping her other arm across her breasts. It was a slow punch, but well-aimed and much firmer, though her other arm's location slowed her.

Equius winced as his hand caught the punch. Her form was rough, but she had a natural instinct for it. For a man of Equius' size, making himself a smaller target was paramount, and Aradia knew to do it without ever being told.

Excellent.

There was a degree of awkwardness because of her trying to cover her breasts from him, though, as if Equius had not already seen them before. “A good start,” he complimented, “But we have only begun.” Still clenching her armored fist in his hand, Equius reached for Aradia's other hand and, as tenderly as he could manage, pulled her hands up next to each other. Even with the gauntlets, her fists were still smaller than his.

He did not look at her breasts. Instead, he stared straight into her eyes.

“I have gifted you with the strength to hurt me,” he said, “You are tired of being powerless, and now you have power. You have never fought before, so this will be your first time. If I am suitably impressed I will grant a request. Anything that you wish and that is in my power to grant will be yours.”

Equius lowered his eyes, making sure Aradia understood what he had told her. Taking four steps back, Equius put up his hands and beckoned her forward.

Her gaze met his and held there for a long time. She seemed reluctant to move from where he held her, as if she had to remain as still as possible in order to absorb every word of what he was saying to her.
She could hurt him. He was inviting her to hurt him. And he'd actually given her the means to make a true dent in his defenses (metaphorically speaking, though perhaps literally if she tried hard enough). Even if he was probably going to break her arm, at least she had a chance. Aradia flexed her hands again, getting used to the joined metal sheaths around each finger. The joints rose to a dull edge over the knuckles when she closed her fist. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to worsen the severity of her strikes.

Good.

The girl decided against wasting another moment. She did not want to give Lord Zahhak the time to change his mind. Aradia gave him one curt nod of understanding, and then stepped forward. Her hands were away from her chest, and she was glad her hair was up and out of the way as she threw a fairly solid punch, aiming for his trunk.

Aradia's punch was solid, but it was also sloppy. From the moment she moved, she was virtually shouting what she was going to try to do. Equius sidestepped effortlessly, then palmed her on the back of the head. The strike's primary purpose was not pain; it was a message. Equius' hand traveled down to the knot at the base of the neck, and he lightly pinched it. A strike at full force there would kill her instantly, and both of them knew it. Taking three steps back, Equius found himself in roughly where Aradia was standing before. He stood there, arms folded over his bare chest. “I said to impress me. If this was the field you would be dead. Do better.”

While Equius danced around to plant his faux-strikes, Aradia held like a statue. Her large eyes followed his movements, watching and studying. Base of the neck. Back of the head. Easy enough.

It was not until Lord Zahhak had moved back into position that Aradia let out her breath again. She watched what her opponent was doing and copied. Her next breaths were deeper and focused in her chest as she tried to ground herself. The wine she'd had earlier was not helping.

She tried to use her slightness and speed to her advantage. An experimental step to the side was followed by three short, swift jabs planted on the lord's bicep. Equius' eyes followed Aradia, followed her lithe body as it coiled and struck. She was learning very, very fast.

Of course, this was still the first time she had ever fought, while Equius had been probably been killing for longer than Aradia had been walking. The first two strikes were avoided by a simple step backwards, while the third, Equius caught under his armpit.

He met Aradia's eyes for a moment, then grabbed her rear and shoved her in to headbutt her.

There was little force behind it. Equius simply held his forehead out for Aradia to collide into. It probably felt something like hitting your head on a roof or doorframe, a feeling Equius knew much better than most people. But still, Aradia yelped, more from shock than pain. She was cringing when she stumbled back, face burning after the sudden grip on her rear.

Equius let Aradia's arm go and gave her a shove to stumble her back. He noted that he was getting rather close to the wall of the tent. He wondered if Aradia would as well. “Better,” he nodded, “But I have killed you once again. Worse, I could have bowled you over and taken you in the field. You would die weeping in pain.”

It wasn't a lie; Equius had seen it happen before. He made a point of castrating any man he saw trying to rape a woman, even a warrior woman fairly defeated on the field of battle.

If he meant his words to upset her, he succeeded. It was alarming to be confronted with one's own vulnerability, and simultaneously with someone who was in an excellent position to take advantage of that vulnerability. Something in Aradia just wanted to curl up into a lump and not be touched or looked at by Equius or anyone else.

But another part of her, the part that felt the weight of the gauntlets more than the cool air on her exposed skin, was angered by the perceived threat. And that part made her clench her fists and strike again.

To Equius, the words were, in a twisted sense, a compliment. He had rather enjoyed grabbing her ass. She had walked behind him for most of the night, and he had only been able to admire her front.
She had earned a reward, Equius thought. Drawing back his right foot, he assumed a simple fighting stance. If the rampant improvement Aradia had just displayed continued, he might very well need it.

Floating on her toes, Aradia moved quickly. She was still inelegant, inexact, inexperienced, but there was a fire to what she did. It was much like the spark Equius had seen on the outset of the afternoon, back when she'd tried to defend her sheep. She struck him again on the side, and then to the front, trying to keep moving, trying to keep him from being able to snatch hold of her.

Equius noticed the spark in her eyes as Aradia came in for her third attack, and found himself thankful that he had taken the fighting stance. He had guessed right: she was learning at an astounding rate.
The first charge, Equius had went to her side. The second time, she had protected her sides, so Equius had grabbed her. Now, she was moving too fast to be grabbed, and she'd probably make Equius regret it if he tried.

He blocked and dodged, holding his ground and simply waiting. Equius had found great success with the technique in the past. There was very little that was more frustrating in battle than a man who refused to make an opening, and by planting his feet, Equius did exactly that.

Aradia had prevented herself from being grabbed. However, she had failed to prevent herself from being open to another form of attack.

Equius simply took a brisk step forward, waiting for the right moment before ramming his shoulder into Aradia. The force buffeted the girl, and she went to the ground. Not wasting a moment, Equius sat on her mid-section, taking great care not to crush her under his weight.

The ground rushed up to meet Aradia and when they collided it knocked the breath right from her lungs. Dazed, she lay back for a moment, gasping to desperately try to refill her empty chest. The sudden weight on her middle made her look up and narrow her eyes.

Equius put three fingers to the side of her neck and pushed her head. “Dead again if I snap your neck here.” Those same fingers trailed to the center of her neck. “Or I could strike here and you would not be able to speak or scream or even breathe much while I ravished you.”

The first instruction was fine for Aradia, just another weak point to note. She was beginning to see a pattern. Either the neck was the weakest point on the body or Lord Zahhak simply favored attacks there. Either way, these things were good to know.

But the next statement angered her. Another gratuitous reminder of how weak she was. Aradia found herself hating it. "Stop," she said very softly, a request with a hard edge. But he didn’t.

Equius' hand went to the hard bone on the left end of her neck. “Or I break this bone and you will be broken from the neck down. I may do whatever I like to you and you will have to lie there and watch.”

“Stop,” she said again, a little harsher.

Folding his arms, Equius looked at Aradia harshly. “It is almost like you want your friend to die.” 

That ought to do it. Of course, Aradia had been very impressive so far, exceeding Equius' expectations almost twice over. But he wasn't about to let her know that.

That was why he had left himself so vulnerable. This was as open as he was going to make himself; if she could harness that fire, use it even a little bit...

Equius was almost a touch afraid at what she might be capable of.

Speaking of Sollux might have been a mistake. This time, when she told him to stop, Aradia actually said it in a low-grade yell. It wasn't going to shatter eardrums, but she was angry and she damn well meant business. His goading had worked.

Perhaps too well. From her position, Aradia had just enough leverage to do half a crunch, using Equius seated on her stomach as a counterweight, and stretch up with her arms. She was so angry that she went with this... and slammed her fist very suddenly into the lord's face.

It felt solid beneath her knuckles, and that felt good.

Chapter Text

For half of a second, between Aradia sitting up and Aradia punching him, Equius could have sworn he was presently fighting a demon.

He had been punched in the face hundreds of times in his life. One was supposed to lean their forehead into the strike, as that was the hardest, most solid part of the skull. It would still hurt, but not as much as a strike to the nose or mouth, and not as dazing as one to the temple.

From this position, there was no way to maneuver away from Aradia's attack. Equius took her mailed fist between his eyes.

There was a flash of pain, and everything doubled for a moment. The smell of steel entered his nose. Equius let his head travel back with the impact, then gritted his teeth and rebounded back. Without hesitation, he balled his fist and hammered it into Aradia's face.

The punch was instinctive, but he managed to avoid using his full strength. His intention was not to break her nose or knock her out. This punch, much like the one he had gifted to Aradia when they had first met, was designed only to hurt.

His attacks so far had been to reprimand, teach, and frustrate her. But in battle, it was often the case that the moment you were most vulnerable to be struck was after you had struck yourself. Aradia had taken a moment, no matter how brief, to savor having finally hit him, and that was all he required.

Equius was a warrior, bred as much as raised. He was big, solid, made of thick muscle and heavy bone. Aradia was a vastly more delicate person, not made to take a hit of any sort. It was a good thing that the man had checked himself, or he might have done permanent damage to her face.

As it was, Equius had still done a number on her. Though her teeth and bones escaped intact, the right side of her lower lip split open against her teeth, and her nose - though unbroken - was hurt enough to bleed. His knuckles rammed into her cheek and crushed the soft skin against her cheek bone. A bruise would be blooming there in a moment.

Aradia felt a hot wetness running down her upper lip, and she tasted the salt and iron of her blood. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she threw her hands up over her face. Her defense was belated, but it made her feel marginally better. She didn't gasp or scream or cry out. She felt tears running from the corners of her eyes, but she did not sob. She just clutched her face, feeling the cold metal soothe her bruising flesh. The sting in her knuckles from striking Equius was the best comfort she could have hoped for.

That was more damage than he had hoped to do.

Equius stared at Aradia for a moment as she clutched her bloody nose and lip. What was he doing, striking a girl a third of his size? Equius could not always control his strength. He had punched her as lightly as he dared, but even that was a devastating strike, far moreso than he had intended. An apology welled up in his throat, but he swallowed it. He had a much better way to make it up to her.

Standing up, Equius walked around to behind Aradia and took a handful of her hair. He pulled her to her feet and just held her there, waiting to be hit. His apology was to allow her to brutalize him as much as she wished. He had gauged her abilities well, her strengths and weaknesses. Now, all that was left to do was to finish the fight. He loosened his body and waited.

She would have preferred an apology. She might have even forgiven him.

The sudden stillness after the strikes was enough to make the aggression drain out with her blood. She stumbled to her feet, twisting at the grip on her thick locks. It wasn't very effective, and she found herself pinned by the back of her head. They stood there, staring one another down. Aradia's dark, large eyes were shining too bright, the film of tears catching the candlelight in the tent.

Slowly, slowly, her hands came away from her face. A line of bright red came down from her nose, pooling into her mouth, and then running down her chin. It contrasted with her skin as her necklace did, twistedly beautiful. Aradia raised her hands to where Equius held her hair and methodically pried loose his fingers, ducking out from his grip. She shoved his arm back to his trunk and stepped forward.

So close now, it was clear that she was trembling badly. Carefully, she raised her shaking, blooded hands. She tapped him once on the base of his neck, reached to tap the side of his neck, walked around to tap the back of his head, and then completed the circle around him to tap over his windpipe. "Dead," she whispered as she struck each place. "Dead, dead, dead, dead." When she finished she stood back, chest heaving with breaths, entire body shaking, blood dripping slowly from her face. And her teary eyes locked intensely on Equius.

Equius frowned when it became clear Aradia was not going to hit him. She was even more of a mess than he had thought. Had he broken her? It appeared so. He hadn't meant to, but he had. He just looked at her sadly as she circled him, the fight having left her body completely. For all her talent, for all her fire, Aradia was still just a young girl. The fact she was able to muster the ability to stand at all was amazing.
There was only one thing for a gentleman to do in this situation.

Equius fell to his knees and bowed his head in shame. “I am sorry. It was not my intention to harm you. I have disgraced myself with my actions. If you like you may kill me now.”

But he was again in error.

Broken? Oh no. Aradia's actions had been completely deliberate. He had shown her where to strike for a kill. And she remembered. And she showed him that she remembered. She could have hit any of those spots with a force had she wanted to. She just didn’t want to. Aradia frowned down at the highborn man. A part of her leaped at seeing him bowed to her. It made her feel powerful, something that had previously escaped her. But another part seemed disgusted. He was strong. He had power. Why would he debase himself like this? If she ever had power like that she wouldn't let someone else take it from her so easily.

One mailed hand reached out and pressed three fingers to Equius's collarbone while her other hand gently reached under his chin to tip up his face and make him look at her, in all her bloodied glory. Equius raised an eyebrow when the metal touched him. He had been expecting something forceful, at least aggressive. Not this. "I'm told that if I hit you right here," she said, pressing her fingers harder into his clavicle, "I can paralyze you. You'd be helpless. You’d just have to lay back and watch while I ravished you." She held him for a long time, forcing him to look at her and let her words sink in, but finally she took away her hands and stepped back.

She methodically removed her gauntlets, wiggling each finger loose and tossing the gloves to the ground. They hit the dirt in front of Lord Zahhak with a metallic thump. "Get up, my lord," she sighed, "I'm not going to kill you."

He had misjudged her again. That happened a lot. She had exceeded his expectations; showing strength, courage, dignity, and maturity once more. Every obstacle he had put in her path, everything he believed would finally trip her up, Aradia had survived.

He...

Equius thought he might be in love with her.

He slowly stood up, almost afraid to look at her. But she had earned that. She had earned his eye contact. More than that, she had earned something she had failed to draw from him since they had met: a smile. “I have trained many a warrior in my life,” he informed her, “On the fifth or sixth lesson, I strike them. It is to teach them how to react to being hit. I skipped to that step immediately with you.” He paused and looked at her. “Lady Aradia, with perhaps two exceptions you have more natural talent for combat than anyone else I have ever met. Ask me for anything in my power and it is yours.”

She didn’t quite know what to do with that smile. He'd leered at her, snarled, sneered... But this was the only true smile she had ever seen on him. Something made her want to slap it right off his face, but she didn’t have the will to do that. Something else found it attractive and wished he would try that more often than frowning. But more than anything, Aradia felt detached. She could look at him and note that he was missing a tooth or two, and have no reaction to that thought.

Aradia felt odd. A little hollow, like a suit or plate with nothing inside. And a little floaty, like a spirit hovering outside of its body. It was difficult to process all that had happened to her today. Especially the heightened emotions of this past hour. Her hands were still shaking.

"Let Sollux go right now," she answered Lord Zahhak's offer. "And on the morrow,get your men out of this village. Don’t bring them back here." She looked at him as she spoke, as if she were a bird of prey watching for a weakness. The girl was fierce if she wanted to be.

But she was so exhausted. Her legs felt like jelly, and her jaw was threatening to spasm from how locked she'd been keeping it. Her hands shook almost too much as she fumbled to yank the ribbon from her hair and let it tumble down to cover her as at last her gaze broke away.

“My men and your friend already sleep,” Lord Zahhak said, “I will grant your requests tomorrow morning. I swear this on my honor.”

Equius noticed Aradia's loose, weak posture and swiftly walked over to her. Putting one arm on the back of her knees, Equius lifted Aradia into his arms.

The young woman tensed as he approached her, and held herself stiffly in his grasp once she was hoisted up and into his arms. She still didn’t quite trust him. That was fair of course. He had given her plenty of reasons to be mistrustful. He carried her over to his bed and laid her down. Grabbing a cloth and a basin of water, Equius began to gently wash Aradia's face of blood. The bleeding had all but stopped, and although her lip still had a small gash in it, Aradia looked more-or-less the same as how she had looked before he had hit her.

On Equius's bed, Aradia sat up. She bent her legs at the knee, pressing them against her chest and hugging her arms around her knees protectively. Her face was easy enough to access from that position. Wiping away that blood was like cleaning away sins. She held perfectly still the whole time, just staring with wary eyes.

He had put her through so much; it seemed almost unfair to do any more to her. At the same time, though, Equius had not wanted a woman more in his life than he wanted Aradia at that moment.

Then, hesitantly, Equius kissed her.

Chapter Text

For some strange reason, the kiss did not surprise her. She felt it coming somehow, a pulse that passed through the tense air between them.

And yet common sense let her know that she should be shocked. She had expected him to hurt her, insult her, rape her... kissing was assumed to be out of the question. Yet there they were. It amazed her how hesitant he was. This big, strong warrior reduced to a careful closed-lips kiss. It was so funny, so strange, that Aradia was unable to resist kissing back, letting her lips part as she did so.

Equius held her there for some time, just enjoying the coppery taste of her mouth and the boody dance of her tongue. It was at this point he would start taking off his clothes, but they were both down to only their barest essentials. He did not want to go so swiftly that he would make her uncomfortable. Yes, Equius had coerced Aradia into coming here and sleeping with him, but for some odd reason he could not bring himself to force himself on her in any capacity. She was more than a good-looking peasant girl with an attractive personality: she was a goddess of fire and power given earthly vessel.

Proper worship was not optional.

Equius took her hand away from her knees and into his straight, shoulder-length hair. His hand, meanwhile, traveled to the back of Aradia's head, simply holding her there as they kissed. It was perfect. A very good start.

It had been a long time since Aradia had been kissed. Three years, in fact. Three years since she had tumbled around in a hayloft with Sollux. After that, she had refused any attentions of a romantic or of a physical nature. Not that there was anyone directing them at her aside from Sollux, and he'd stopped trying before long. She hadn't been lonely. At least... she hadn't thought so.

It surprised her how good it felt to feel another mouth on her own. To feel hands on her skin that weren't there to harm. Aradia raked her hands through Equius's hair, feeling the silk strands combing between her fingers. Her thumb grazed over the ridge of his ear and she tilted her head slightly to her right.

It became uncomfortable to kiss him from her position. Though it made her feel more exposed, Aradia shifted, lowering her legs and tilting them to the side, allowing her to lean forward into the kiss. Her mouth was so warm, remarkably soft.

Equius had not been with a woman in some time. There were an abundance of whores and camp followers around, but they did not befit a lord. Equius had little interest in prostitutes; he, rather naively, believed that sex was supposed to have some sort of meaning.

Gently, he began to lower Aradia's head to the bedframe. Soon, they were both lying down, yet to have broken the lock their mouths had created. Equius held her close, his free hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her in so close that her breasts pushed up against the top of his chest. His hand then descended to her cloth smallclothes. Hooking them with his thumb, Equius began to strip off the last piece of covering Aradia still had.

The girl pulled back, breaking the kiss. Warm breaths came in short pants, and her chest rose and fell with the force of them. Her eyes, closed up to this point, opened again. Somehow capable of enough rational thought to do so, Aradia wriggled down enough to tug the end of the leather thong tying her turnshoes. The strings unraveled and she was able to kick them off and let them fall onto the ground.

When she came back up, the peasant stared at the lord hovering over her. She didn't move as he pulled her coverings off of her legs. Her smallclothes covered her like very short breeches, from hips to just above her knees. Being fully exposed made Aradia feel raw, overly open, and she shivered. Equius was close enough to kill her, if he wanted to. But, it occurred to her, the same could be said for her. She kissed him again with a mouth that tasted of blood, a hand slipping down to unlace the front of his smallclothes.

Equius felt a small, deft hand on his manhood. He doubted Aradia knew much about the workings of a nobleman's undergarments, but he felt himself rising and stiffening regardless. Eventually she succeeded, and Equius wordlessly assisted her in removing his last covering, too.

Now that their mouths were separated, Equius was free to enjoy the rest of her body. His mouth trailed down to Aradia's neck, then her breasts, then her belly. Aradia distantly wondered what he was doing. But her thoughts seemed far away, located in some place outside of her head. Her head tilted, giving him full access to her neck, and her body rose up to meet him, flexing into his mouth. Finally, he came to a stop below her navel, finally catching a glimpse of her glorious womanhood.

Opening his mouth and parting her legs, Equius moved his head between her smooth thighs and began to eat her out. Previously quiet, Aradia gave a tiny gasp of surprise. It had never occurred to her before that this was something someone could do. It was hard to believe how good it felt. She used one hand to cover her mouth and stifle the urge to make any further embarrassing noises. Gasping and whimpering were all she wanted to do, but she didn't want Equius to hear them. The other hand she lowered to card through the nobleman's hair, not pushing or tugging at him, just running the jet locks through her fingers.

It had been years since Equius had pleasured a woman like this. From Aradia's surprise, he could guess nobody had ever done this for her before. It was quite popular at court and in the city, but Equius supposed it might be more uncommon so far into the country. As he tasted what no man had ever tasted before, Equius heard the girl come closer and closer to climax. Her breaths grew shallower and more frenzied as he drove her to an edge, and Equius wondered vaguely if she might be the sort to scream.

Her entire body stiffened and she gasped, making a sound that was not quite a groan and not quite a sigh when she came. Her lack of experience was made obvious by the fact that it didn't take long. When she was done, Equius came up, swallowed, and smiled at her. “Did you like that?”

The girl reached up to touch Equius's face when he finished, guiding him down into another kiss. She could taste herself in his mouth, sharp and strange. "Yes," she replied breathlessly when they parted again. Their faces were so close that their lips brushed as she spoke.

Aradia thought he may be as good at that as he was at tormenting her. They were alike, after all, though this was a different kind of torment, vastly sweeter. She ground up her hips into Equius and took his lower lip gently between her teeth.

Equius accepted the embrace quietly. Aradia was not a very large person, and she had very little in the way of prior experience. Her womanhood could comfortably fit his tongue, but his manhood was another story.

It's not that it was incredible, it was just proportional to his body. That, however, made it quite long and quite thick by ordinary standards. Aradia's beautiful body pressed up against his led to a rise in Equius, but he would have to be very careful with this next step or risk hurting her. “If you feel pain tell me,” he promised. “I will go slowly.” Maneuvering her up a few inches, Equius slid his erect cock into the space between Aradia's legs. He maintained eye contact as he did it.

She had to fist her hands into the bed, clutching the blanket to keep a hold on herself. It was not the worst hurt she'd ever felt, and Aradia was fairly sure that it wasn't much worse than losing her virginity in the first place. But that didn't mean that it wasn't painful. Aradia's face tensed up and her body stiffened. She bit her lip and held her breath until Equius had entered her completely. Only once she grew more accustomed to his presence within her did she allow her spine to relax and her eyes to open again. She took short, shallow breaths as she stared up at the man.

Her hand was very delicate and slightly shaky as she released the sheets and touched his face again. She continued to find touching him fascinating, especially knowing that this was a face she'd just punched. Her legs drew up to hook around Equius's waist and she nodded. "Go on. I'll be fine."

Equius had to hold onto Aradia's hips. He worked carefully, precisely, slowly drawing in and out of her. He built himself up, up, up... Finally, after ten or so minutes, he spilled his seed with a slight grunt of exertion.

The sex itself was not overly enjoyable for Aradia. In proportion as Equius was, it was rather much for her slight frame to take on. There was certainly more of him than there had been of Sollux.

Yet it wasn't terrible. Aradia was still soaking wet from the earlier treat with Equius's skilled tongue, and that eased the way enough to keep it from hurting the whole while. It was merely uncomfortable with the occasional worsened stab of pain. Every time that happened, she tensed. But sometimes Equius struck something excellent within her, and she tensed for that too.

Sighing in content and pulling out, Equius looked at Aradia longingly. She was new, inexperienced. ‘Fucking her brains out’ was not really viable, not without causing serious harm.

He elected for something more gentle. He pulled Aradia into his lap and cradled her, one hand on the back of her head, the other on her pale rear. The young woman tumbled into the lord's arms, fitting very well on his lap. He slowly lowered himself to her chest. He had yet to get much out of those breasts he had spent a great deal of time admiring. His mouth wrapped around her left nipple and he began to suck.

Shifting position, Aradia ended up nearly straddling him, bracing her knees on either side of him and holding tightly to his shoulders while he took her breast past his lips. Another thing she wouldn't have thought of, and it had her gasping. She might have even moaned, raking her fingers across Equius's back.

Drawing his head away, Equius lifted his head enough to look at Aradia's sweating face. His hand trailed down to between her legs and patted her cunt. “Do you recall what I did to you a few minutes ago here?” he questioned, “Perhaps you could do the same to me.”

"You mean you'd like me to use my mouth?" she sought clarification as Lord Zahhak held her. Tired and weak at the knees she was, but she was looking in his eyes, and she didn’t seem embarrassed or shy of his suggestion. "I've never done that before. I'm not convinced I would know how."

Lord Zahhak chuckled at her inexperience. The stereotype of people of low-birth was that they spent their entire adult lives alternating between working the land, getting drunk, and fucking. A girl like Aradia, who had been of marriageable age for several years now and yet failed to know such basic things, was almost something out of a farce.

But once had been enough of getting drunk and fucking for Aradia. Her village was small enough to be short on prospects for her, even if she had been at all interested. Being so quiet, she preferred her own company anyway. No one else was needed in her little world.

Despite the fact he was doing all the work,Equius was greatly enjoying himself. Aradia wasn't a virgin, but she might as well be; everything Equius did came as a revelation to her. Still, there was a great deal of pleasure to be derived from her body. In time, perhaps she would learn how to pleasure him in the same way he was pleasuring her.

Even now, he was giving her a lesson. He had never had a pupil quite like Aradia before. She was quick-witted and eager to learn in combat, and Equius had learned that killing and fucking had been designed with quite a lot in common.

“It is rather self explanatory,” he informed her, “Put it in your mouth and suck. While doing that move your mouth up and down the shaft. If you bite down I will kill you.” The threat was three quarters of a joke. He didn't think Aradia would imagine her teeth should get involved, but there was also a good chance she had no idea how fragile a cock was.

"If I bite down, you'll be in too much of a shock to do much of anything," she responded. She watched him, head tipped to one side. She still felt powerful around him, like she could handle herself now if she had to. This was good, because otherwise she would never had done this.

"Choke me with your manhood and I will relieve you of it," she promised, kissing Equius very firmly. It was a bizarre, violent sort of flirting and it suited the situation. When the kiss ended, Aradia began to kiss a trail down, copying what the man had done on her own body, the face to the neck to the chest to the stomach.

Refusing to kneel, Aradia instead placed both hands on Equius's chest to make him like back, and she maneuvered between his legs. Her warm tongue flicked out to run along Equius's length, encouraging it back to a hardness.

Equius couldn’t help but smile at the reversal of fortunes she had managed. Aradia was in unfamiliar territory here. A minute ago, she had no idea what he had wanted, but all it took was a simple explanation for her to grasp the situation enough to make light of it.

Equius liked it. He liked it quite a lot. She wouldn’t have needed her tongue to have hardened him, although that certainly helped. As she crawled down his body, he pulled her legs onto his chest to balance them. He wasn’t going to eat her out twice. She was wet enough, and he wanted to show her something else. Instead, he took his first two fingers and dipped the tips between her legs. He waited for her to start before he did.

Aradia felt her insides twist with desire when he touched her. It was impressive that the two of them were both ready to go again, so soon after both having come. She tipped her hips down encouragingly as she tilted her head forward.

Her lips parted and she slowly, tentatively took the tip into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the head and licked up the slit, slow and experimental. From this odd position, she was in total control of how far she took him, so she gradually began to lower her head, sucking as Equius had suggested.

Equius gasped slightly as she slowly lowered herself onto him. For all the damage she could cause, he trusted Aradia enough to let her figure it out on her own. She was efficient and quick, but not hasty. The friction was quickly getting another rise out of him.

What was truly impressive was how she was ready to go again with little rest. Lord Zahhak had as much stamina as he could ever need, but he suspected Aradia was going based on willpower and enthusiasm.
As she lowered herself onto him, he stuck two fingers into her and began to massage what lie inside. It was warm and wet, quickly soaking his fingers. He didn't dare shove any more inside: Aradia's slit wasn't very large, but Equius' fingers were.

And there they were, Aradia on top of him, them mutually pleasuring one another. For Equius, it was almost a thank-you. Aradia had given him a night he would never forget, even before they had kissed.
She was extraordinary.

What Aradia lacked in experience she made up for in sheer fascination. She seemed curious, interested in what was happening. It was new to her, and she found that she quite enjoyed how it felt to be with Equius, so why not just give herself over to the experience? After all, she only had the one life.

Being with Equius was unlike anything she knew. Aradia could not understand why she was going along so willingly, why she wanted this so badly. Yet she did. She wanted to feel Equius's hands on her body, and she liked the idea of him moving inside her. Even kissing him felt good. And just a few hours ago she hated him. She still felt strongly about him. But it was no longer hate. Aradia didn’t know what it was anymore.

A twist of the fingers within her had her moaning, causing a low vibrating hum to pass from her mouth and to Equius's cock. Aradia had taken him a little over half-way, but she lacked the knowledge to go any further than that.

After several lingering minutes of hands and mouths, Aradia wanted more from the highborn man. She drew back with one last, long lick and pulled away, slipping his hands from her depths. It took a matter of seconds for her to change and flip her position, so that she was sitting on his chest in a mime of how he had earlier pinned her. "I want you in me again, my lord," she told him in a whisper, face flushed as she kissed him.

Equius had bedded virgins before. He showed them the same care he showed Aradia, more for their safety than anything else. With all his might, he might afflict terrible injury without any malice to speak of.

They knew this, and they feared him. Equius was a man of power, and even if he wasn't using that power, he still possessed it. Perhaps they were afraid to anger him by accident. Aradia clearly had no fear of him, which probably explained why he found himself under her, her pinning him to the bed with her mouth.

He could have pulled her off without much effort, but found that he didn't want to. He liked her on top. He preferred it that way. All his life, Equius' life had been about control: control of his strength, of his urges, of his situation. His dominance arose out of necessity.

The thought of being dominated, especially by a peasant girl that Equius had originally taken to see if he could break her, was so incredible and unbelievable that it could be nothing but a potent aphrodisiac.

Even though Aradia had just finished him, Equius found himself rising a third time. This was new. This was fantastic. The possibilities of being the submissive were difficult to grasp, and Equius had not found a girl with which that would be possible until now.

“As you wish my lady.” Placing his rough hands on her hips, Equius maneuvered Aradia onto his cock, the tip penetrating her once more. From the sitting position, it would be a bit rougher on Aradia, but he had little doubt she could handle the pain. He held her body firm as he carefully, methodically entered her.

All at once he was sheathed fully inside her. Aradia's breath caught in her lungs and she held still, hands clenching on the man's strong shoulders. She needed to grip for balance and for control, and she didn't shy away from letting her nails dig little half-moon marks into Equius's back. He could handle it, she was quite sure.

Every nerve's awareness was heightened and she could feel everything. The thick length filling her completely, the hard flesh beneath her hands, the dull ache of her arched back... She could feel the way her heart hammered in the cage of her ribs, the throb of her still-split lip, and the bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck. Locks of her long, lush hair were plastered to the sides of her face and her necklace bounced between her breasts as Aradia began to move.

She raised and lowered herself carefully, letting Equius's powerful hands help steady her. It didn't take long before she gained speed and rocked against the lord. This position was vastly better, or perhaps that was because she was already relaxed from the first time. Either way, Aradia could feel more good than bad coming through. The lovely girl didn't bother to stifle her gasps and infrequent moans of pleasure this time.

Equius just breathed evenly, listening to Aradia's moans with the satisfaction that he was giving her a pleasure that she had never felt before. That boy Sollux might have taken her maidenhead, but Equius doubted either of them derived much pleasure from the experience.

Here, though, was different. Equius had experience and a combination of tenderness and power, while Aradia had vigor and confidence to make up for her newness at the act. He was not one to make much noise, so he focused on keeping himself inside Aradia for as long as he could. The sensation of her moving up and down upon the shaft was brilliant. His mouth opened involuntarily, and the only sound to escape his lips was a rasping moan.

With a soft groan, Aradia hit her edge again. "My lor-" she started but then stopped. "-Equius," she amended. She had not used his name before. A sign of what then? Respect? Affection? Perhaps she was merely lost in the moment. It was difficult to know. All the same, the girl came hard, groaning his name again as she rode it out.

When it was over, a rush of tiredness hit the young woman. Her limbs felt heavy and her lungs burned from panting through two orgasms and a lot of physical work. How long had they been at it? At least an hour now. But just the thought of more of this made her pulse race again.

The man smiled grimly at the fact that she had finally deemed him worthy of a first name. ‘And all it took was the hardest fucking she's had in her life,’ he thought, drinking in her beauty with his eyes once more.

Finally, he finished inside of her and fell back, panting. His muscles glistened with sweat like they did after a day in the training yard. He felt some distant aches on his body, but they were overwhelmed by the after-effects of his climax moments ago.

Equius didn't think it was the best sex he had ever had, but it was very likely his favorite, if that made sense.

His hands trailed down Aradia's hips and felt her thighs, those gates to the wonders between her legs. Her inner thighs were harder and more muscular than he had expected them to be. He sat up and put his hands on her round, firm ass. Pulling Aradia her towards him, Equius traveled her from his navel to the top of his chest. He had rather enjoyed being on the bottom. He wondered what else Aradia could do while dominating him.

Chapter Text

Equius placed both of Aradia’s feet on opposite sides of his head. Then he rose his hands up and squeezed her breasts, his scarred hands engulfing her chest. “Let us try something new,” he suggested, “Wrap your legs around my head and squeeze as hard as you can.. Count to fifty and do not let me go until then no matter what I do.” He hesitated, “You can count to fifty, can you not?”

"Fifty?" Aradia bit her kiss-swollen lower lip and shook her head. "I-I can count, ah, thirty." Her words were broken up as she tried to catch her breath. Thirty was how many coins they could get for a sheep. Her father had taught her to count so high. Thirty was impressive for a country-born peasant, more so for a girl. This was an uncomfortable reminder of how low Aradia's station was; a sobering thought in the heat of the evening.

The eighteen year old shifted to rest on Equius's chest, looking down at him. Her hair fell around her head to ensconce the two behind a black curtain. "How many more is it?" She sounded determined.

Equius took note of the fact that she was ragged. He didn't blame her, as the lord could still remember his own second time. He had hardly been able to get it up, and had nearly broken the poor girl's hip in the process...he shuddered at the memory.

“Fifty is thirty and twenty,” Lord Zahhak said slowly, “It goes thirty then forty then fifty. I will teach you to count later. Are you sure you want to keep going? I do not want you to overexert yourself. You have performed far better than I had expected you to; you have nothing to prove to me.”

Yes, he was actually concerned about her health and safety. At this point, there was very little doubt about it. Equius, the next Lord Zahhak, heir to the Stronghold, hero of a dozen battles, winner of tourneys in riding, archery, and swordsmanship, and one of the most marriageable and desirable lords yet unmarried in all of Skaia, was completely in love with some peasant girl from a nameless backwater of a village.

His concern struck Aradia. She tilted her head curiously to one side and her brows knit for a moment as her lips tipped into a frown. The look was confused, like she was not quite able to comprehend what she had just heard. Earlier she would have assumed sarcasm in the words, an attempt to be condescending to his lowborn little captive. But now she didn’t think so at all. He sounded... he sounded as if he might actually care.

And suddenly 'captive' didn’t fit her right either. What was happening in her head all of a sudden?!

Aradia shook it off by leaning in and kissing the corner of Equius's mouth. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking," she said in a clipped, mumbled voice. She cleared her throat and sat back up. "Thirty then twenty. I can do that." Her head bobbed in a short, curt nod and she moved to take the man's head between her shapely legs. She gave him a moment before slowly squeezing. "One... Two... Three... Four..." She had to count aloud.

For the first time, she caught herself hoping she wouldn't hurt him.

Her legs were as strong as Equius had hoped for, and she held him with most of her strength. Even still, Equius could barely feel her grip. It was a bit like having his mouth and nose being smothered, albeit in a much more sensual way than usual.

The intention of Equius here had been for Aradia to continue to dominate him. The legs were the strongest part of a person's body, while the neck was the weakest. Equius had intended to put his weakest point between Aradia's strongest, thereby putting his supply of air into her control.

He was trusting her with his life. If she wanted, she could squeeze him until he suffocated between her legs (certainly one of the better ways a man could die.) Fifty seconds, however, would be enough to disorient him without causing any damage.

Equius could breathe a bit, and it did not hurt very much at all. He could not breathe, however, and hiis nose was crushed against her womanhood. He could smell her sex and lust and sweat.

This was odd. Odd and a little awkward. If they hadn’t already been all over one another's bodies, Aradia would have felt uncomfortable with this. But they had already seen and touched and tasted everything there was to know of one another, so she supposed that this was just as well. The only reason it occurred to her to wonder at all was because the heat and glow was starting to fade for her as exhaustion took its place.
The counting proved a good distraction. She was methodical but a little slow as she climbed into the double digits. The sensation of Equius's hot breath on her still-moist cunt was not altogether unpleasant either. Aradia couldn’t resist the urge to grind down a little on his face.

Equius was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. It was hardly the worst pain he had ever felt, but it provided a perfect chance for a test. One final lesson for the night. He had tested her will, her loyalty, her talent, her morals, and her stamina. Lastly, Equius was going to test Aradia's capacity for brutality. He began to tap against her leg with a note of frantic urgency.

At thirty she stopped and started over at one, so that she could count to twenty. The tapping gave her pause... But he'd said not to stop, no matter what he did. And it wasn't as if he was thrashing about or anything like that. She kept on counting, intending to complete the numbers.

Lord Zahhak might have overestimated how long he could hold his breath. Although there were worse places to be trapped, a lack of air was a lack of air. Immediately, his vision dimmed and he felt dizzy, out of focus. He tried to pry her legs open, only to find that they were too tightly around his head for him to fit his hands in. He could use all his strength, but that would likely leave a palm-sized bruise on Aradia’s legs. Hurting her when she was only doing as he had asked would be rude. He had no choice but to lie still and try and signal her to release him.

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but there was no air to speak with. His words came out as a muffled moan into her slit. Equius was infuriated at his helplessness, his inability to speak or breathe and his unwillingness to buck or move.

That frustration somehow translated to arousal. To Equius’ shock, he found himself rising once more. He had come already three times. An erection now was not something he thought himself capable of.
And yet there it was, his cock engorged and inches from Aradia’s face. The pounding in Equius’ head was joined by a rush of excitement. Yes, this was exactly what he had wanted. To helpless in somebody else’s hands (or legs, he supposed,) to be held as their submissive and their captive. Lord Zahhak moaned, this time in ecstasy, as he felt himself only moments away from releasing for a fourth time.

Aradia had to admit her surprise at just how much this excited Equius. She would not have thought that something as silly as this would have such a powerful effect. Was this a normal thing that people did? For the first time, she felt her ignorance, and she found that she did not like it.

"...Eighteen... Nineteen... Twenty." She hoped she hadn’t done him too much damage. Her leg muscles were achy now as she finally released the nobleman. Aradia didn’t give him time to release again before she turned around and mounted him again. For several minutes she rode him as she had earlier, groaning and panting. When they both released, she collapsed on Equius's chest, kissing his face all over.

"Do you ever tire?" she asked him laughingly, petting his hair and stroking his face as she tucked the black strands back behind his ears. She, for one, was exhausted.

Equius gasped for air the moment he was free of Aradia's grip. For the first time throughout the entire act, he actually shouted, an ecstatic holler as he came inside of her for the third time.

He hoped she wouldn't get pregnant. Equius was fairly certain they had pomegranates in the supplies… she would have to eat them at the first opportunity.

Her sudden cheer and affection was at once surprising and exhilarating. It seemed that, finally, she was beginning to like and trust him.

Equius pulled her close and held her for a long moment, not saying anything. She was so warm, and soft, and beautiful... “I am rather fatigued,” he admitted, “I wear something like seven stone of armor every day though, so rolling around in bed is practically holiday.” He buried his face in her hair, enjoying the feel of it against his cheek. Closing his eyes and smiling, Equius gently kissed the top of the girl's head. “Would you like to sleep now or perhaps talk for a bit?”

There was a glow, warm and soft, rising from Aradia. It flushed her skin and made her feel warm, as if something was blooming inside her. It was the strangest sensation, and not one she could remember feeling before. It made her all the more lovely.

She flushed further beneath his kiss, enjoying the attention. She found that she liked him when he was being gentle. It was something she'd not thought him capable of when she'd met him. Much of this lord's demeanor had changed, and all for the better. "What would we say?" asked Aradia, folding her arms across Equius's chest and putting their faces quite close together. She had such deep, beautiful eyes, and the word that described how they were focused on Equius now might have even amounted to longing.

Equius looked in her eyes, those balls of passion and fire, and found that size and station were nothing before them. He didn't want her to be his, he wanted to be hers. It was a small distinction, but an important one. He had never wanted somebody else to control him like that, to have him be subject to their moods and their grievances.

He wanted to serve Aradia, to please her however he could, and for her to make him whimper for mercy when he failed her. He wanted her to pin him to the bed and take what she wanted from him. He wanted to do so much with her, share so much with her, have her become an inextricable part of himself.

And he saw no reason not to tell her that.

“My lady,” he intoned, “You are the strongest, funniest, quickest witted, and most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life. I love you. Please do not leave me on the morrow. Stay with me and let me be yours.”

Of all the things Aradia might have expected Equius to say, this would never have been one of them. She stared at him, eyes going wide and looking conflicted, alarmed, and yet, nearly wanting. She didn’t know if it scared her more that he'd suggested it or that she liked the idea. She felt like he didn’t know much at all after today.

She propped herself up, laying her palms flat against his chest and tilting her back so that she was half-raised, still laying on him below the waist, but pulled apart. She shook her head slowly, little mouth pursed slightly in concern. "You... You don’t mean that."

Aradia was still so young. And she had never lived anywhere but this tiny village. She hadn’t even traveled more than twenty miles from where she was born. Going with Equius would mean leaving behind everything she knew. "You shouldn’t talk that way. You couldn’t marry me: I'm nobody. And I don’t want to be anyone's mistress. I'm not a whore." She was frowning now, and desperately trying to rationalize a refusal.
But who else would have her now? Nobody would want her after hearing about this evening. In spite of all that had happened, all anyone else would hear is that Aradia had warmed the bed of some young lord. Even Sollux would be horrified, though she had done it for his sake. If she stayed, she'd be looked down on by most everyone else in her village. Aradia would live and die alone with her sheep. And worse, she would again be reduced to weakness, powerlessness. After this, after feeling what it felt like to be in control of something, Aradia didn’t know if she could bear it.

A voice inside her breast begged her to just say yes. But then what kind of woman would she be? The conflict was obvious on her face. "...We'd both be the better for it if we pretended this never happened..." she whispered an excuse that sounded weak to even her own ears.

Equius had not put too much thought into the logistics of what he was proposing. Indeed, Aradia was correct. Much as he loved her, they could never marry. And once he returned home and was forced to wed that House Serket girl, he wouldn't be able to touch her without being labeled an adulterer and an unfaithful husband. It would be a blow to both his personal honor and the honor of his entire house, and he couldn't allow that.

He didn't care, though. He wanted to see Aradia's face and hear her voice every day until he died. Even if she could never warm his bed again, he would make do with just her smile and her laugh. “I do mean it my lady,” he said seriously, “You have been marriageable for years now. And you said it yourself that the only marriage you have ever considered is one of convenience. Leave your village behind and come with me back to the city. I will teach you how to read and count and fight and ride and anything else you want to know.” He took her hands, his blue eyes meeting her dark ones. Her hands were so small and fragile and perfect. Like a proper gentleman, he put the back of her right hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“I do not care what is best or what someone else may think,” he went on, “I want you and only you. We can give each other everything we have ever wanted. If I am smart about it I might even be able to avoid my marriage. When my father dies I can marry who I like and forget the consequences. You will bear my children and when we are dead no one will care that their mother was of low birth. Your children will be lords and knights and ladies and you will be remembered as Lady Aradia Zahhak: a woman whose fearful skill in battle was only matched by her grace in court and her exquisite beauty. One woman in a hundred thousand does not get this opportunity. I would not offer this to you if I did not believe you deserved it.”

Gods save her. She liked what Lord Zahhak was saying. Everything he offered, every promise, sent Aradia's mind off into a dozen directions, giving her visions of what she might be able to call her future. She could be so strong. She could learn letters and more numbers. She could have children with a man who actually attracted her for something other than necessity. She could be something more than a sheep girl.

But all of that paled in comparison to Equius. She could be with this man for the rest of her days, if she said yes. She could exchange blows and understand that they held each other's life with enough trust not to take it. This day had been exhilarating, and she'd felt more alive than she ever had. How could she go back to sitting on a hill, staring at sheep all day after all of this?

Like some shy maid, she blushed when he kissed her hand. Aradia could feel Equius's heartbeat against her chest. She could spend her nights with those strong arms around her body, that heartbeat in her ears.

And yet... What would her parents have said?

That thought alone gave her enough pause to shake her head. They would want her to be happy and well. They would want her to be careful. They would want her to be absolutely sure.

He was so different now from how he was that afternoon. She needed to know what was the truth of the man. Equius had been testing her all evening. Now Aradia had a test of her own. "You ask very much of me," she said quietly. "Give me the night, my lord. Let me sleep on it. I will tell you in the morning." If he lost his temper, if he over-urged her or pushed, if he did not allow her the time to make her decision... He would lose her.

She kissed his brow tenderly. "Funny we should end the evening with you waiting on my indulgence."

Equius stared for a moment, before clutching her tighter to him. The possibility still exists that she would refuse, and if that was the case, he was going to hold her as close as he could for as long as he could. “As you say,” he agreed, “Rest now my lady. And thank you. For everything.”

Equius positioned Aradia so that her head resting on his slick, muscular chest, and her curves were under an arm nearly as big as she was. He clutched her like he clutched his sword in his first battle. Kissing her on the top of the head one last time, Lord Zahhak closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep.

The firm grip felt solid, trustworthy. Not like something that would slip away from her and dissolve like smoke in the cool night air. It soothed the peasant girl enough to let her melt into the nobleman's arms. Though she felt more emotionally and physically exhausted than any other time in her life, Aradia took some time to fall asleep. She had some thinking to do. She lay there for at least half an hour, just watching  Equius sleep, the single still-lit tallow candle tossing deep, flickering shadows over his hard-carved body. Aradia knew what she wanted. She knew what Equius wanted. She knew what the world expected of the both of them. And, eventually, she began to know what she would have to tell him come morning.

Positive, Aradia decided to hold dear the time she had with him. The young woman clung close to the man beneath her, soft body held tight and warm. She'd never slept half so snug.

Chapter Text

Sometime in the night, the two of them had shifted. When Aradia awoke, she was laying on her side curved into a fetal position, legs drawn up and head bowed forward. She slept like a child. She could feel the heavy, hard warmth of the man behind her, cradling her slight body with his own. It was still very early, not quite dawn, and the naked woman shivered and pressed just a bit closer to her lord.

Equius' sleep was not nearly as restless as Aradia's. He was, by nature, a heavy, solid sleeper. Even before battles where he was leading the vanguard or breaking a gate or something similar, he slept well. ‘The sleeping giant!’, his men would sometimes joke, ‘Missed the battle because he slept in!’

When Aradia stirred in the night, he did not. He slept straight until morning, where light flowing through the top of the tent hit his face and the night watchman's bugle hit his ears.

The lord’s eyes ponderously opened and he lifted his head up. He looked to his side, where Aradia had been when they had fallen asleep. He half-expected her to be long-gone, having stolen away in the night with one of his horses, never to be seen again.

Having been awake for some time by then, Aradia was turned towards Equius, watching him silently. Watching him sleep was soothing in its own, weird way. He really was a handsome man, and Aradia thought that it might be nice of she got to wake to him in the mornings.

Her lips were dry and reluctant to open when she tried. Her split lip had begun to scab, and the swollen appearance had gone down a bit. Actually, Aradia looked a little worse for the wear. In spite of the healing, the fusing line on her lip wasn't very pretty. The place where Lord Zahhak's fist had crushed into her cheekbone was blooming into a mottled red and purple bruise that threatened to creep up and give the girl a bit of a black eye. After a night of rolling about, her hair was a wreck, tangled and wild like some wayward forest being's. But her eyes were still bright and warm as she looked at her lover. "Good morning, Equius," she whispered with a dry mouth. Her words sounded like paper or fallen leaves.

Equius looked at the girl's face with a frown. He had seen far worse injuries, but any blemish on her beauty was cause for alarm. On the other hand, it almost attributed to her allure. Aradia was a wild beast, with a will that could not be broken and a savagery in her heart that could not be lost. With her disheveled forest of hair, bruised face, and complete lack of clothing, she would have been mistakable for one of the uncivilized forestfolk of ancient times.

He'd have her rub some aloe on the bruise later, it'd lessen the swelling. In a week's time, it would be gone, most likely replaced with a dozen others of varying severity. That was assuming she took him up on his offer. Equius' training was not an easy affair.

He licked the roof of his mouth, and found that his throat was sore and raspy. “Water,” he declared the single word, then stood up, searching for his clothes. Still a bit woozy, he pulled his simple black shirt and pants on before finding the roughspun garment Aradia had been wearing when they met.

He handed it to the naked girl, then kissed her forehead affectionately. “Get dressed, I will be back shortly.”

Water sounded an excellent idea to Aradia. The thought of the cool, fresh liquid filling her mouth and running down her throat consumed Aradia's thoughts for a moment, and she rather hoped that he would hurry about it. It occurred to her how thoughtful it was of him to rise and fetch it for them. Most men wouldn't have considered it their place.

Aradia closed her eyes when he kissed her, then opened them to watch him go. She didn’t move to dress until he'd left her alone.

By the time he returned, the peasant had dressed herself again, slipping into her raw wadmel and re-tying her smallclothes beneath. Her turnshoes were laced tight and she stood with her back to the flap of the tent, combing her fingers through her wild woman's hair. She knew exactly what she needed to tell Equius, she only needed to find the right words themselves.

Equius had taken a moment longer than he had expected. One of his officers had delivered to him some most distressing news.

Equius slumped back into the tent, holding a pitcher of water and a pair of clay cups. He poured one cup, handed it to Aradia, then poured another for himself and downed the entire thing.

Aradia accepted the water and sipped slowly, making it last. That was much better. But the moment her thirst left her, concern replaced it. Something was wrong. She may not have known Lord Zahhak very well, but she knew enough to tell his demeanor had changed.

He sat on the bed, clutching handfuls of his smooth, jet-black hair. “I bring ill tidings,” he said. If everything the officer had told him was true, then... he didn't know what then. “Your friend Sollux knew something. He told our scouts about a secret cave that some of the enemy use as a meeting place. This is more information than we have managed to get from anyone else so far. My officers suspect him to be a lieutenant of the Signless forces.” Equius sighed, before looking at Aradia with dull sadness in his eyes. “They want to keep him as a hostage and bargaining chip.”

She lowered the cup slowly and approached the man as he started to speak. His words made her veins fill with ice. "That cannot be true," she said, shaking her head. "He- he wouldn't do something like this." She meant confessing. She wasn't actually surprised that he knew something. She was just shocked that he had spoken to Lord Zahhak's men. They must have hurt him terribly.

"You promised," she said, a note of desperation entering her voice, "You promised you would let him go. Just tell your men to release him!" Her heart hammered and she added, "Please."

“I...I cannot.” Equius sighed and looked at the girl. If only she could understand, understand how helpless he was. He didn't want to do anything to upset or betray her, but he didn't have a choice. “They investigated what he said. A night rider found the exact cave he described in addition to Signless necklaces and weapons. They think he knows more and want to keep interrogating him.”

Equius put his hands in his hair again. He knew that things were going too well. Why couldn't the stupid boy just not know anything, or hold on until morning? This was his fault. Equius had told his men to use their fists only; they couldn't have inflicted so much agony on him...

“If we let him go he will warn them we are coming. Regardless of what I want I cannot let that happen no matter what. Please understand… I do not want to keep him and break my word to you.”

She wanted to go with him. Even now, Aradia was so ready to say yes, to agree to follow Equius back to the city. God, she wanted to. But Sollux...

It wasn't Equius’s fault. At least, Aradia didn't think so. He seemed honest in his apologies, as if his hands really were tied. She did not want to blame him. But if not Equius, who could she blame? It wasn't Sollux's fault that he had been captured, tortured. Aradia wished she knew exactly who had laid the blow to make him talk. If she got her hands on him, even Lord Zahhak couldn't help what she would do.

"There must be something you can do?" she asked, "Something I can do?"

Equius felt something begin to form in his head. An idea, an ugly idea. He had to stop the boy from talking, and he had to get what he knew out of him. But he had sworn, on his honor, to release him from captivity… “If I can extricate what else he knows from him then he can be allowed to leave our custody,” he admitted, “But it took half a day to get just a little information out of him. I could tell my men to use their more, ah, creative means… But that would be excruciating and may very well kill him. No, he has to voluntarily give up the information.” Equius looked at Aradia. It might very well work, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if it'd be worth it.

He sighed. Not seeing much other choice, Equius walked over to the side of the tent and picked up his sheathed broadsword. He carried it back to the bed and rested his head on the hilt. “Does he care about you as much as you care about him?” he questioned.

Dark eyes followed Equius as he moved through the large space of the tent, watching him as he lifted his weapon. A dozen thoughts flicked through her mind but she voiced none of them. Those eyes rose to the lord's face, looking out through heavy, dark lashes. Aradia nodded slowly. "I would like to believe so," she said carefully.

"You mean to harm me in front of him," she said, voicing one of her thoughts after several dragging moments of silence. "Or make him think you mean to harm me." She was too quick to think his sword and his question added to nothing more than curiosity.

Still, she hoped that she had assumed wrong. There were other ways. This seemed risky. "I could simply talk to him..." she suggested in a half-hearted murmur, “Tell him you would pardon him if he spoke..." That was a less dramatic solution, but also less likely to be as effective. Sollux would be unlikely to speak for just his own sake, at least without duress. And Equius's men were bound to question why their commander would let the presumed traitor off so easily. Aradia wrung her hands and looked off into space.

Equius shook his head. “It would not work, my lady. He will not expect or respond to kindness after I ordered him tortured. His only hope is for me to exploit how much he cares for you.”

Lord Zahhak gently pulled Aradia close to him, taking a lock of her hair. He unsheathed the first five or six inches of the blade and pressed the hair against it, cutting it off. “I am going to make him think that you will suffer a slow and agonizing death at my hands if he does not cooperate. If we both play our parts well he could be back home before lunch.”

He sighed, then steeled his brow. This was war. War meant sacrifices, and that meant mistreating and manhandling the woman he had fallen in love with. He took Aradia by the shoulders and held her straight, looking into her eyes. “I may have to hurt you to make things believable,” he warned the girl, “And you must act as though you hate and fear me. Should be easy enough - you have already had a lot of practice.”

She was unable to contain the snort that rose, unbidden, at Equius's words. Pretending to despise him would not be at all difficult. Her memory was longer than a few hours, dramatic though those hours may have been.

His hands on her shoulders felt real, solid. Aradia was glad of them. One of her arms came up to bend double at her chest and set her hand on top of one of his. She squeezed gently and ran her thumb along the man's. Aradia felt cold, and Equius seemed so warm where he touched her.

"I trust you," she said, almost unable to believe what she was saying. "I only ask that you be careful." He was so vastly bigger than her... Permanent damage was a very real possibility.

Delicate fingers curled around the lord's large hand, and Aradia lifted it and brought it to her mouth. She kissed it as he had earlier kissed hers and then drew away, steeling herself for their performance.

“I will not do any harm,” Equius assured Aradia, “But you must act as though I have cowed you and broken your will. Now we go.” Seizing her wrist brusquely, Equius strapped the sword to his back and headed out of the tent.

Chapter Text

The stumble that Aradia had as she rushed to keep up with his much longer strides was not faked, but added to the appearance of her being dragged.

Lord Zahhak ordered the blue-clad officer at the tent door to take him and ‘the peasant whore’ (who kept her head low and trailed along in Equius’s shadow) to the captive. The man bowed his head and led the two of them to the young man with mismatched eyes.

"Sollux!" gasped Aradia under her breath. Though she had not seen her reflection, she knew that she was bruised... And still she knew that he was much worse. Sollux was such a quiet, reserved child that he had never gotten into fights or put himself into situations where he might be harmed. This was easily the worse shape she'd ever seen him in.

He was a mess. His face was swollen, and it looked as though his nose had been broken. His arms and bare chest were decorated with thick bruises and welts, but none of them looked to be anything like a permanent injury. There was a gag stuffed into his mouth.

Equius knelt in front of the boy, still towering over him. “Sollux. It is a pleasure to finally speak with you. I am Lord Equius Zahhak and you may hold me responsible for the treatment you have received as one of my guests. Now then I do believe you have some information I would like to hear.”

Sollux just stared at Equius with darkened, hateful eyes. Equius' response was a shrug and a yank as he forcefully pulled Aradia down with them.

At the yank on her arm, she fell to the dirt with a pained whimper. She dug her bruising knees hard into the ground to bring tears to her eyes, which she used when she looked up at Sollux. Let him think they were from Equius's words.

“This slut of yours tells me that you and she once fucked,” said the lord, “I suppose that gives you and I something in common. Although I imagine the experiences were quite different for her. Tell him, girl! Tell him how I made you shriek and bleed and weep all night.”

Equius bowed his eyes at Aradia, hoping the message would be clear. Sollux would not believe much of anything Equius said, so Lord Zahhak would need Aradia's help to be completely fully convincing.

Aradia flinched whenever Equius so much as gestured, and wrapped an arm around her middle, as if to comfort and protect herself. "Please, my lord," she begged, "You’ve had what you wanted..." she choked on her words, forcing herself to focus on her injured friend as much as it took to bring on tears, "Please let him be." Angered and alarmed, the young man struggled against the ropes binding his hands behind his back.

“Whether or not I 'let you be' is up to her.” Equius put his palm on Aradia's face and pushed her back, dropping her to the ground. He looked at Sollux and grinned viciously. “You gave me some information, boy, which means you know more. I have run out of patience waiting. I told my men to use only their fists on you and as of now I revoke that; they are free to do as they like to you, and I think we both know that they can be a creative lot. And I will hold you both. Every day my men will subject you to pain the likes of which you did not even know you could feel. And every night you will have to listen as I ravish and brutalize this girl over and over again. That is your first choice.” He paused for a lingering moment. “Your second is to tell me everything you know right now. I will let you both go with your lives and your freedom. Those are your two choices. If you would like some further convincing I can give you a sample of what I will be doing to this girl every day, until I grow tired of her and give her to my men.”

Standing up, Equius walked over to Aradia and put his hand on her neck, engulfing it in the process. “Come here. I think your friend needs a demonstration.”

Equius mouthed the words "finish it" to Aradia. There could be no doubt in Sollux's mind. He had to be utterly convinced of the truth of everything Equius said.

"No!" Aradia gasped out. It was a strangled cry, choked by Equius’s hand. She poured all of her emotion into her voice, letting it be filled up by the worry and the fear and the sadness she felt for her friend. She did not care if her flesh bruised where Equius grabbed. She did not care how humiliating it was to let Sollux see her this way, even if it was an act. She certainly did not care if this spoiled well-laid plans for whatever the Signless' followers intended. All she cared about was making sure that her best friend escaped this with his life and all his parts intact. Aradia would do anything for those she cared for.

"No, no please, my lord!" Aradia was raising and lowering her voice erratically, sounding as if she was working up to full sobbing. "Not again. Please don’t do this again." She cried out as he put a hand on her and struggled, weak and frantic as a fish on the shore. She needed to look helpless. "Sollux!" she cried, turning to look at him with wild-eyes panic, "Sollux, please!" It was not like her to beg. He knew that. Aradia suspected that this would be just what was needed.

And she was right. The young man shouted something against the gag, a muffled plea. He shook and then nodded his head wildly at Equius, trying to signal that he would speak if the lord stopped manhandling his friend.

“It seems you have made a choice. A wise decision.” Equius snapped his fingers at two of his men-at-arms. “Take him back to the interrogation tent. Once he has told you everything, bring him back to me.” He turned to Sollux. “Hold back nothing, boy. If you lie to or deceive us we will know. Understood?”

His eyes filled with fear and resignation, Sollux begrudgingly nodded his head. The two soldiers picked him up by his bound arms and dragged him away. Once the boy was gone, Equius turned to the sergeant. “Fetch me a torch.” The officer bowed his head and jogged off, leaving Equius alone with Aradia. He removed his hand from Aradia's neck and instead offered it to help her up. “I hope I did not hurt you,” he said, “You did exceptionally well, my lady.”

With the offered assistance, Aradia stood and dusted off the dirt clinging to her dress. For a time, she did not look at Equius but rather watched the opening of the tent through which Sollux had been dragged.
A disquiet boiled in her guts. She felt wrong for having tricked her friend. This was important to him, everything the Signless preached. Aradia knew this. Though she would not, could not, tell Equius, Sollux ran his mouth about these things very often. In spite of the necessity, she felt as if she had betrayed him.

"I hope he can forgive me," she sighed. Her head turned back to Lord Zahhak. "You will let him go after this, my lord? No matter what he says?" Aradia sounded worried.

“Yes,” said the man, “He is free once he has told my men what he knows. Except…” Equius hesitated. He had been avoiding the subject with Aradia until now, but she deserved to know. Certain precautions had to be taken, some less pleasant than others. “If his information rings true then he might be able to warn the Signless and his followers of our attack. I am not going to allow him to compromise us. I have no choice. I will have to cut his tongue out.”

The sergeant returned with the torch. Sighing heavily, Equius took the knife the sergeant had at his waist and placed the blade inside the fire.

Bold as she had been when she strode up to him in her grazing field the day before, Aradia walked right up to Equius and slapped the knife out of his hand. Generally speaking, she was a very level-headed person, more for words and thought than rash action or violence. But at times, she was moved enough to ignore her better instincts. And, as Equius had seen in the last night, she certainly had the capacity.

The blade clattered to the ground, skidding a line in the dirt. It smoldered, too hot to touch but not red-hot yet. If Aradia had been one pace to the left. It might have gone through her foot, but she didn’t seem to care. She was too busy glaring up at the young lord.

"Don't you dare!" she snapped. "You've done more than enough harm to him. There’s nothing more he would do. You leave him be!" Hang their act. Sollux was gone and Aradia didn’t care anymore. And her anger was a formidable thing.

Equius looked at Aradia with an exasperation that masked any other… reaction to her violence towards him (any sign of roughness brought to mind the previous evening… and that was certainly not where his head needed to be just then). He hadn't expected her to like the idea, but he had hoped she would at least understand why he was doing it.

The sergeant went for his sword, but Equius raised a hand for him to stay his blade. “This is not up for argument. He is your friend but he is also my enemy. I have been entrusted with fifteen thousand lives. And we know for a fact he has been in contact with other Signless forces in the past. I will not let him warn them of my coming. He will still live and be able to do all the things he did before we captured him. He just will not be able to speak.”

Aradia was angry, and Equius loathed upsetting her, but it had to be done. Much as he cared about her, his duty came first. It always had, it always would. “Unless you have a better idea, there is nothing I can do. It is either this or keep him captive indefinitely.”

"Then let me do it," Aradia blurted.

It was a surprising statement. Why would she ever want to hurt her best friend, after she had done so much to protect him? But she rationalized it succinctly. "You said he is your enemy. You don’t care how much he is hurt, you only care at all for my sake. Well I do care. I would be gentler than you. And it would give me the chance to explain why I'm leaving with you." She dug her nails into her palms. "When he's told you enough let me take him back to the village. Just allow me this, my lord. I'd rather it be me than you."

Equius raised an eyebrow, before he thought about it for a moment. Yes, that could very well work. Aradia would have to get accustomed to the sight of blood and horrific injuries, anyways. Now would be an excellent time to start.  “Very well. But for two things: One, you must cut deep into his mouth. Leave too much of his tongue and he will still be able to speak. Two, I will watch as you do it. Then you may take him back to the village.”

Aradia gave half a flinch. It only lasted for a moment before she recovered herself, but it had happened all the same. Clearly, she had not planned to actually go through with the severing of her friend's tongue. Her heart sank and she fought very valiantly not to let it show on her face.

Picking the knife off of the ground and wiping the still-hot blade on his sleeve, Equius placed it back in the fire. He looked back at Aradia, frowning sympathetically. He knew how she felt. A sad turn of events for her.

But a surprisingly happy one for him. She had likely not meant to, but Aradia had just told him that she planned to take him up on his offer. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

"...Very well," she said reluctantly, trying to think of some way out of this. But even if she had to... she would rather it be her. Her own argument had convinced her of such. "I will do it." She felt fairly sick.

When Sollux finished telling them all he knew, or near enough to all that the rest could be inferred, he was brought back. The gag was gone, but his hands were still bound and he looked miserable. He and Aradia exchanged looks of worry and sadness that didn't need to be translated into words.

"...Make everyone else go," the girl asked of her lover. Nobody else had to see this, and she was still desperately trying to come up with a plan.

 “Leave us,” Lord Zahhak ordered his subordinates, “All of you.” He walked around and took hold of Sollux's shoulders once the men were gone. With one hand, he held the reddened knife, and with the other he pinned both of Sollux's arms.

“Whenever you are ready,” he nodded at Aradia. It was clear from the look on her face that she didn't want to do this, but she had no choice. She had made her decision, and she had to live up to it.

That was the honorable thing to do. If Equius was going to mold her into a lady, a real lady, then she would need that honor.

Sollux looked at them both inquisitively. He was eyeing the knife apprehensively, but Equius understood the confusion: Why did the lord order away his men? Why was he suddenly being civil to Aradia? What was the knife for?

Equius could feel the boy trembling in his grasp. That was what he was; a boy. Someone who had associated with the wrong people and would be paying for it until the day he died. He had not directly hurt anyone; he did not deserve this for a bout of youthful rebellion.

But this was war. Innocents were hurt. Equius did his best to minimize that, but it happened all the time. He had long ago learned to put aside his reservations about what must be done. Cutting out this boy's tongue could save a thousand lives later on. A bad-tasting act, but a necessary one.

Equius held the knife up, offering it to Aradia. “Careful not to touch the blade,” he warned her, “And the hotter it is the easier this will be. Young Sollux, in order to assure you will not tell the Signless forces that we know what you know, I am going to have your tongue removed. Your friend Aradia has volunteered to do the deed, and I have granted her this request.”

"....Sollux..." Aradia said slowly. She stepped up and carefully took the knife from Equius. Her hands were shaking. "Sollux, I am so, so sorry." She didn’t look to Equius to beg him to reconsider. She knew better. He wouldn't. Begging would only shame all three of them.

The girl kissed her friend on the cheek, an action as full of love as any, though perhaps not a romantic sort. She stood on her toes to whisper an explanation in his ear, gentle but hurried, to keep the blade from cooling too much. At first the boy panicked and tripped over pleas, begging her- no. No he stopped just short of begging. Aradia respected him greatly for that. But his terror was obvious. He was shaking violently in Equius's strong grasp.

Sollux opened his mouth reluctantly. As with her words, Aradia was gentle but quick. She held the young man's extended tongue and made one swift slice. A chunk of flesh hit the ground and Sollux screamed. Tears were flowing down Aradia’s face, but she did not let herself break down and sob. In a rush, she cut a strip from the sleeve and wadded it, coaxing her mutilated friend into opening his mouth so he could bite on the wool weave and hopefully soothe the burned cut.

As she lowered her hands, she slipped and the hot blade cut a thin line down the back of her hand. The girl hissed and winced, dropping the knife again.

Equius let the boy go, gently pushing him into Aradia's arms. He grabbed the knife as Sollux embraced her. There was nothing for Equius to do or say. All he could do was watch, and hope Aradia would understand and forgive him. When he thought enough time had passed, he put a hand on Sollux's shoulder, and the now-voiceless boy turned to look at him with equal parts confusion and loathing.

“I never harmed her,” he told the lowborn young man, “And I cut your tongue out only to keep my men safe, not out of vindictiveness. You will return home with your life and for the most part your health. Most who fall into the hands of enemy armies are not nearly so lucky. Be thankful for that.”

Equius gestured for them to follow him to the stables. He walked slowly, making sure they stayed not too far behind him. “Lady Aradia has requested that she be allowed to take you back to the village alone. You may say your goodbyes from there. You cannot speak, but there is still much you can say.” As they arrived at the stables, Equius fetched a horse, a gentle older beast which would listen to Aradia's every command. A good horse for a beginner.

As the two mounted, Equius took a look at Aradia's burned hand. Luckily, the wound was both small and light. She would be fine. Equius had to remind himself not to coddle her. She was one of the strongest women... no, one of the strongest people Equius had ever met. She could handle herself, in spite of the tears that had dried on her face from what she had done.

The lowborn girl didn’t bother to assure Equius that she would return. He knew. All Aradia did was give him a nod before slowly guiding the horse away from the camp.

Chapter Text

It was not far back to the village, but Aradia Megido did not rush. In a bit of shock, Sollux was wobbly on his seat, and she didn’t want to push it.

When they were back inside the limits, Aradia and Sollux dismounted gracelessly. Aradia left the horse hitched outside of Sollux's cottage. The moment the door was closed behind them, she turned to her friend. "You should still be able to talk. I think," the girl sighed, "I hope I left enough. I stuffed the wool in to keep him from checking..." She kept her voice hushed, just in case. "Don’t overdo it, and don’t be obvious about it."

Sollux spit the cloth into his hand and flexed his jaw. He had less than half a tongue left. But maybe... "Ay-ay!" Vowels were doable at least. "Why id oo do dis?"

Aradia, who was bustling around the place to find things to patch up her friend, turned and smiled sadly. "I fixed your lisp." She turned back to the shelf and grabbed several items; she knew her way around Sollux’s cottage as well as she knew her own home. "Because if Lord Zahhak had done it you wouldn't be able to speak at all." She returned to her friend, now sitting on a rough-hewn wood bench, and started cleaning his cuts and bruises.

It took as long as it took to bandage Sollux to explain why she was going with Lord Zahhak. Half of that was spent insisting she was not insane. But when he realized that nothing he said would dissuade her, Sollux gave up. "You need to not warn anyone." she made him promise. He eventually agreed, but only because he understood that Aradia would be unable to save him if Lord Zahhak came back.

"Ay-ay," Sollux said as the girl stood to leave him for good, "Does ee no?" Aradia shook her head and wrapped a hand around her seemingly innocent red necklace. "No. And I don’t intend to have him find out." She kissed his cheek again and hugged him fiercely. "Take care of my sheep.” It hurt her to abandon the woolly little beasts, but she trusted her friend to take good care of them.

“Don’t let strangers hear you speak,” she went on after a mournful pause, “And please don’t hate me."

She bid her best friend one last goodbye and rode back to the warcamp with a heart of lead.

***

Equius did not stand there like some forlorn lover, waiting for Aradia to return. He had work to do. He ordered the men to make double time on preparing for the march, he spent several minutes hearing what they had learned from Sollux (a good deal of information, mostly involving Signless meeting places) and finally, he returned to his tent and starting put on his armor with the help of his squire.

The boy was some high-born who Equius had dismissed as a hopeless case after a week or two. He was much more interested in books than war, so Equius left him to his own devices for the most part. Tje lad did have a knack with armor, though, so the entire suit was on in fifteen minutes.

Equius headed outside, strapping his bow and quiver to his back as well, leaving the squire with the sword. Heading outside, another servant brought him his destrier. Equius told the boy to hold onto the horse for a minute, he was waiting for something.

That something appeared on the horizon, minus her traitorous friend. Aradia arrived at the camp while the army packed up to leave it. On Sollux's information, there was a village of Signless sympathizers, and Equius planned to see what they had to say. He had already sent out a small sortie to scout out the village's size and defenses, but he didn't expect much. There was almost no chance of there being any significant defense. As Aradia rode up to him, Equius bowed his head in apology, “I am sorry for having to do that. I would not have done it if it was not necessary. Can you forgive me?”

From horseback, Aradia was actually taller than Equius. That was a funny shift of view, and she frowned down at him sternly. "I can try," she acquiesced after enough time had passed to make him uncomfortable. She was still going with him, and that said enough.

Seeing that time was short and they didn’t have the luxury to bandy about, Aradia laid out her conditions in no uncertain terms. "I will go with you and I will stay," she said the obvious, "However, if you marry another you will not have me in your bed. I will be your companion, but I will not be your mistress. If you are cruel to me, I will leave. If you ever lay a hand on me that I do not wish, I will leave. Even if I do marry you, you do not own me." She exhaled slowly and softened quite a bit. "I needed that to be clear, my lord," she added much more gently.

Equius listened to her conditions and nodded. All fair, all what he expected. He wouldn't have made the offer if he wasn't expecting her to be willful. “I have but one condition of my own,” he said evenly, “It has nothing to do with you, it is simply a tenet of training. War is painful. In the course of our training you may be hurt or wounded. You will not whine to me about these injuries on the field. You will suffer them in silence as we all do as men of honor. If you feel it necessary, you may speak to one of my surgeons; they are the only people who will help you. In private, you may say as you like, but on the practice field you are just another soldier.”

Aradia nodded seriously. "Understood, my lord." The tenets seemed quite fair to her. Though she had to admit that she was very likely getting in over her head here, it was too late to turn back now. At least, it felt too late. It felt like she was riding right off the edge of the map.

All around them, people were packing up camp and mounting their horses, or marching on foot bearing packs and armor. Aradia had never been around so many armed people, and she was very unused to the stomping of so many hooves and the crash of so much metal. There would be a harsh learning curve for her, and she knew it.

She was gripping tight to her mount. The girl was not an experienced rider, and this was difficult. "...Where are we going?" she asked at last, remembering that this was still a war party.

Equius mounted his destrier, and he once again towered over Aradia. His black warhorse dwarfed her rouncy almost as much as he dwarfed her. “We are going west on some information your friend gave us. It is a full day’s ride though. If you tire, tell me.”

Equius paused for a moment as he watched a couple soldiers, their hands full of spears, walk by and stare at the peasant girl. “Stay close to me. Speak to no one without asking me first. Not all these men are of a virtuous sort.”

House Zahhak's newest warrior felt the muscles of her horse roll beneath her as she drew up alongside Equius. For a moment she stared at him, wondering at what she was doing here, what had come over her. He claimed to have fallen in love with her. Aradia was not sure if she loved him. But she thought that it might not be difficult to fall.

"I will do my best." The dark haired girl turned away from her lord, gripping the reins a little tighter as she rode, red necklace bounding against her breastbone.