The Mountain Ch. 03

They were in a sort of dead-end, a rounded tunnel with a door at one end and a blind curve at the other. Persephone opened another metal door. This one was intricately painted with pictures of flowers and fairies. Despite the fancy designs, Lucy could still make out rust creeping up the sides of the door. The persistent dampness--despite the cool air--was slowly eroding the strange life inside the mountain.

"Come on," said Persephone. She grabbed Lucy's arm and pulled her into the room.

Like Warder's room, the place seemed to contain nearly all the pieces of a complete home--an area for eating, an office, a bed. However, where Warder's room had been sparse, this room was decadent, full of fabric and color and more light. Lucy noticed that the light over the bed was of a different quality than in the rest of the room or the hallway. It was natural light, she realized, falling in thin stripes from slits in the rock. They were nearer to the outdoors here than in Warder's room--perhaps near to the top of the mountain. Although she was still firmly trapped, the thought was comforting. She felt briefly as if she could tunnel through what remained of the rock with her bare hands. Instead, she followed Persephone meekly through a door and into a large bathroom.

"You're supposed to take a bath," said Persephone. "Then, you can put these on." She draped the wrinkled white dress over a towel stand. It took her longer to relinquish the jacket. She checked each of the pockets as a pretense, folded the collar. Lucy was keenly aware, somehow, that Persephone simply did not want her to have it. The thought made her uncomfortable. But, she was freezing. Skirting around Persephone, she knelt in front of the massive stone tub and fiddled with the taps. To her surprise and delight, one of the taps started to flow warm, and then hot. On the ground, the water system still worked, but the water that flowed was cold. For baths, they had to heat water over a fire--or simply rely on the ocean. This was another thing that the people who remembered what life was like before had told her about, but she never thought she'd live to see it for herself. Amidst the fear of her predicament, it was a brief moment of near-joy.

Persephone left the room, leaving the door open. Grateful for relative privacy, Lucy stripped off Warder's shirt and immersed herself quickly in the water. It was nearly scalding, but she let the hot water tap run another minute, moaning softly as the cold melted from her bones. This was--amazing. The best thing she had ever felt. Well, it was at least equal with the feeling of riding a big wave onto the shore, laughing and coughing up salty sea water. Losing access to this luxury was reason enough by itself to hate the mountain dwellers.

"Hurry up," shouted Persephone.

Reluctantly, Lucy looked around for soap and began to wash herself instead of simply lying in the tub. She scrubbed hard at everywhere that Warder's fingers had touched her, blushing from the heat of the water and from the memory. Sooner than she would have liked, the water began to cool. She was contemplating refilling the tub when Persephone stalked into the room. Ignoring her nakedness, she leaned over and pulled the stopper out of the tub. "Five minutes," she said dispassionately.

Lucy quickly rinsed the soap from her hair as the water drained. Thankful that that bathroom seemed to be well-stocked with towels, she wrapped herself in two and used another to squeeze as much water from her hair as possible, realizing that she would feel the cold even worse if it stayed wet. When she had done all she could, she slipped the white dress over her head, wishing mightily for underwear. Then, reluctantly, she put on the jacket. More accurately she wrapped herself in it. The jacket was meant to accommodate Warder's broad frame. Lucy drowned in it, struggling under its weight. She gave up on trying to extract her arms from the sleeves and tied them around her instead, using them to keep the jacket on. She looked ridiculous, but she was warmer than she had been in just the shirt. Thinking of the shirt, she looked for it, hoping to cover herself in as many clothes as possible. But Persephone must have snatched it when she came in to empty off the tub. It was gone.

The strange voice--not Persephone--sounded again.

Attention. Operations at Level Three will cease in one quarter. Level three to cease in one quarter.

Lucy looked around trying to determine where the voice was coming from.

"Don't worry about it." Persephone appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. "Come on, you've taken long enough."

Lucy thought again that Persephone would be very pretty if her face weren't permanently stuck in a scowl. Stumbling a little under the awkward weight of Warder's jacket, she followed Persephone into the living area, sighing quietly to herself when the same blanket was dumped unceremoniously over her head. A blindfold would be simpler. she thought to herself. Than she shook her head slightly, amazed that she was reasoning out the best way to enforce her own captivity.

#

Persephone led her through the hallways at a clip. She was moving fast enough that she seemed less inclined to slow their progress by bumping Lucy into things and tripping her. At least, this was true until she stopped short so that Lucy tread on the back of Persephone's shiny black boots.

"Ouch," said Persephone. "Watch it."

A moment later, Lucy felt a hand at the top of her head and the blanket slid down her face. She expected to see Persephone and was startled to find a strange woman staring back at her. The woman smiled at her confusion.

"Hello, darling," she said. "What a pretty little thing."

The woman herself was beautiful. Almost--regal. She was older than Persephone, probably around the same age as Lucy's mother. The few people Lucy had seen during her imprisonment had all been wearing rugged, sensible clothes, like Persephone's plain, fitted black sweats or Warder's sturdy jacket. This woman wore a long, shimmering dress that hugged her body and pooled gracefully against the stone floor at her feet. It should have looked out of place, but something about the woman's bearing suggested that she never looked out of place or felt it. Her thick whitish-blonde hair was piled on her head in an elegant bun and Lucy swore it was studded with diamond pins.

"I'm supposed to take her back to Warder," said Persephone shortly.

The woman's pleasant expression dissolved and she snapped her head towards Persephone, her mouth pressed in a thin line. "Retract your claws, brat," she said. "I only wanted a moment with our guest. It has been so long since we had a guest," she said, returning her attention to Lucy with a sweet smile. "I feel honored to have happened upon you."

"Yeah. Chance, I bet," grumbled Persephone, in a tone that suggested she didn't believe the meeting was accidental at all.

"Look at that beautiful raven hair," the woman said, ignoring Persephone and reaching out to touch the ends of Lucy's dark waves. "So many of us are fair," she said, patting her bun with one hand. "You're a vision."

Lucy didn't say anything. She might have managed a "thank you" but she was still reeling from being referred to cheerfully as a "guest." The woman's hands returned to Lucy's hair and she gathered it up and brushed it over her left shoulder. Lucy realized that Warder's jacket had slipped down her arm and her shoulder was bare except for the strap of the thin, white dress. Despite the woman's rude appraisal, she stayed very still, cognizant that even bitter Persephone had done little more than verbally spar with the stranger. She didn't know what was happening, but she sensed it was more than a casual meeting in the hallway. Her instincts told her to be on high alert. After a thorough examination, the woman tugged Warder's jacket back into place, patting the sleeve as if to be helpful. This only caused the jacket to slip down on the other side. To Lucy's confusion, the woman brushed her hair out of the way again and examined her other shoulder, running one, manicured finger along her neck.

"Lovely," the woman said. There was something odd in her voice. A kind of relief.

"You're going to make me late, Grace," said Persephone. She was leaning against the opposite wall, glaring at both of them.

The woman glanced at her as if she were a bug or a rat who had unexpectedly started talking. "You're swimming in that jacket," she said to Lucy. "You wait here, won't you, and I'll bring you something that fits. I know I have just the thing."

"We're late!" said Persephone. She gave up trying to be dispassionate and stared at the woman with dismay.

"You'll wait," said the woman. "I'll only be a moment."

With that, the woman walked swiftly away, her shoes clicking against the stone. Once her footsteps had faded, the hallway was completely silent. Each of the girls stood there, frozen, waiting. As the silence stretched, Lucy realized that she could hear the water again, trickling softly somewhere against the stone.

The woman did return quickly. She was carrying a jacket. Without comment, she slipped Warder's jacket off and placed her arm into the other jacket. The material on the outside of the jacket wasn't much different from Warder's, some kind of sturdy canvas. However, this garment had obviously been cut for someone closer to Lucy's size--probably a woman, because the jacket actually hugged her instead of gaping around her hips. Once the jacket was on, the woman came around in front of Lucy and began to do up the buttons, as if Lucy were a small child. Lucy raised a hand to try to help, but the woman brushed it away with a soft "tutting" noise.

"There," she said, taking a step back. "Isn't that better?"

"Thank you," Lucy said. She was much warmer. The jacket was lined with something soft--fleece or maybe even fur. It felt amazing against her bare arms.

"Don't thank her," said Persephone. "Now we really are going to be late."

"Hurry home then, little dog," said the woman. She tossed Warder's jacket to the floor and Persephone jumped to retrieve it. "I'm sure I'll see you again, darling," she added to Lucy. "I do hope my gift keeps you warm."

Uncertain whether or not it was prudent to try another "thank you," Lucy simply nodded. Before she had finished, Persephone was tossing the blanket back over her head and dragging her away.

#

Lucy knew when they arrived back at Warder's rooms. She could hear Persephone fumbling for the key and the familiar creak of the heavy, metal door. It was already unpleasant to breathe in the strange atmosphere inside the mountain and the blanket made it absolutely suffocating. She was grateful that she was about to be able to remove it.

Persephone pushed her through the doorway and she reached up to tug the thing away. As she tried, her hand brushed someone else's and she jumped. Warder tossed the blanket away from her, an odd expression on his face.

"A blindfold might have been more prudent," he said to Persephone. "You are also late."

Lucy recalled her own thought about a blindfold and frowned. If she were to be trapped here indefinitely, she might spend half her life being led around with without the privilege even to see.

"We would have been back if Grace hadn't stopped us," said Persephone.

"Grace?" Warder asked. His spoke in his characteristic unhurried drawl, but Lucy could tell that this news had him on alert. He sniffed and then his forehead creased. He looked at Lucy again, as if he were suddenly seeing her differently and placed a hand on her arm over the new jacket. "What's this?" he asked.

Something in his voice made Lucy alert, too. She braced herself, turning to Persephone in hopes that she would provide an adequate answer.

"Grace insisted on dressing her," said Persephone. "She brought her that and made her wear it. What was I supposed to do?"

Before Persephone had finished her explanation, Warder was deftly unbuttoning the jacket and peeling it away. Instantly, Lucy's hands went to her arms, chafing the skin for warmth. Warder raised the jacket to his nose and sniffed it, then held it away with a grimace. He tossed it at Persephone, who caught it awkwardly. "Get it out of here," he said. "She'll need another bath tomorrow. And next time, be more cautious."

"It wasn't my fault," said Persephone. "She just showed up and--"

"Persephone!" Warder thundered, and the girl fell silent. More quietly, he said: "you're done for the day. Go."

Lucy was confused. The jacket hadn't smelled like anything to her. It certainly wasn't dirty. It was clean and soft and, if anything, smelled faintly of soap and even more faintly of the persistent damp that seemed to permeate everything inside the mountain. Frustrated to have lost the first piece of clothing she'd been given that had actually been comfortable, she spoke. "I'm cold," she said.

Warder turned and surveyed her, raking his eyes from her hair--nearly dry and curling without benefit of a brush--to her feet, which were bare.

"Here," he said, handing her the blanket that Persephone had forced her to wear. "I have to go out. Eat the dinner I left for you and go to bed."

Lucy peered around him and saw that there was a bowl of something set on the table.

"I'm not tired," she said. "I've been sleeping for days."

"Shall I amuse you?" Warder asked, his tone threatening.

Retreating, Lucy shook her head.

"Fine," said Warder. "Do as I say."

#

Warder stalked through the hallway. It was deserted except for soldiers positioned here and there at crossways. He nodded to one of them, noting that the woman straightened up as she answered with a salute.

He was frustrated--with Persephone, with himself. He was doing exactly what Grace had intended for him to do, stalking towards her at the provocation of the "gift" she had made to his captive. He had provoked her, perhaps, by insisting that Lucy be allowed to bathe in her private quarters. Most of the mountain shared a few large facilities for bathing and he hadn't been eager to parade his captive naked in front of the curious public. However, Grace had the rank to have refused him and because she had agreed, she ought not to have interfered.

Grace opened the door to her rooms almost before he knocked.

"Warder," she said, her voice sultry, "what a pleasant surprise."

"You are not at all surprised, Lady Grace," he said. "I came to return this 'gift' and to warn you against toying with my prisoner."

As far as Grace was concerned, the girl was nothing more than that. If the woman knew that he intended to make her his mate, she could be a true danger to Lucy. He would be careful that she would not know until it was done and then even Grace wouldn't interfere. To tease his captive was an annoyance. To threaten his mate would be an act answerable with brutal justice. Justice that would be cold even to Grace.

Grace took the jacket out of his hands and stroked the fur lining. "It's an expensive piece," she said. "I thought your little captive looked very pretty wearing it."

"And Cenia knows you're giving away her things?" asked Warder.

"Cenia has no use for pretty things," said Grace. "You should know. She's a dedicated soldier."

"I did not force her into that life, Grace," said Warder.

"Of course not," she answered. "Except by refusing to put an end to it as you should."

"Don't be coy, Grace," said Warder. "Speak your mind. What would you have me do?"

"Take my daughter for your mate," said Grace. "You will not find a more powerful family to align yourself with. And Cenia is beautiful and well-suited to your temperament."

"You seem to know little of my temperament," said Warder, stalking close to her. Grace moved with him until her back was against the stone wall. "If you did, I think you would take more care."

"Would I?" asked Grace silkily. "I know that you enjoy my...temperament."

"Do not strain the bonds of my affection, Grace," said Warder.

"You speak to me as if you have no awareness of my position. I outrank you, Warder. That won't change unless you take a mate."

"I find it distasteful that you try to force your daughter on me," said Warder. "Considering our own history."

"She isn't yours," said Grace, ducking under his arm where it hemmed her in and gliding away towards the bed. "Our own...entanglement has not been blessed with children."

"That in itself is a blessing," said Warder coldly. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't you?" asked Grace. She looked at him over her shoulder while she untied the laces of her dress and let it pool at her feet.

Warder watched her, his face betraying nothing. He had decided to end things with Grace long before he encountered Lucy on the mountain. She was grasping and needlessly cruel, unpredictable and determined to control him. She was also beautiful and available. In some ways, they were well-matched. That had been the thing that drew them together in the first place, despite the difference in their ages and their station. When their affair began, he was even less than he was now. Not a warrior. Not even a lowly foot soldier. A boy, barely grown, angry and drifting in the confined world of the mountain.

Slowly, he strode towards her, examining her naked body. It was night outside the mountain and bars of moonlight streamed through the stone vents over her bed, casting the room in an odd, bluish glow.

He desired a release. When he found that Lucy was a virgin, he had decided to wait to bed her. If she was what he thought--and he knew she was--she would ask him to take her long before his control wavered. And yet, the wait wore on him. And Grace was here.

Deciding, he pushed her forward onto the bed, forcing her to lie on her stomach. She stretched her arms over her head like a cat, settling into the position as if she had chosen it. He dropped his pants, not even bothering to remove his shirt. He fingered her passage and Grace moaned beneath him. She was dripping wet and ready for him, eager to be taken.

He leaned over her and nipped at her ear, hard. Dragged his hands down her sides, feeling her melt into his touch. Without further ceremony, he entered her, moving slowly, deliberately, watching himself disappear between her thighs. Grace pushed back against him, urging him to go harder. Instead, he pulled out and positioned himself to enter her ass.

"I want you where you were," murmured Grace, looking over her shoulder.

"I don't care what you want," said Warder, pressing deeper. "This is what I want. Take it or tell me to go, but don't think you can sway me, Lady Grace."

Grace shuddered lightly, clearly shaken by losing control of the seduction. She breathed deeply and then stretched her arms again, lifting her buttocks towards him. "As you wish, Warder."

Immediately, he picked up where he had left off. The lubrication from her natural juices helped to ease his way, but he knew he was causing her pain. He had taken her this way before, but she didn't like it and he doubted she allowed it of her many other lovers. He admitted to himself that this was why he forced her, urging her to accept him on his own terms. Even to be led to do the exact opposite of what she wished was to allow her some power. It had been a mistake to give in, but now, he would find his release.

Leaning into her, he picked up his pace, tugging at the pins in her hair until it came lose and then plunging his fingers into it, tugging near her scalp. She arched her neck back towards him and turned, inviting him to bite. He ignored her, knowing she did not truly expect him to respond. He had asked her once, years ago, when she had been his first.

Let me mate you, he had begged, starry eyed at the things they had just done to one another.