TITLE: "INCUBUS" AUTHOR: Gayle Rochefort-Potts CONTACT: tpotts@sprint.ca WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/taitlu/ SERIES: MIRROR/DS9 PAIRINGS: B'Etor/m RATING: NC-17 DISCLAIMER: TPTB have all the rights and the money... we have all the fun and the imagination. SUMMARY: M/B'Etor reveals interesting ways to spend a day. NOTE:(Incubus definition: (Webster's) 1. An evil spirit that is supposed to descend upon sleeping persons. 2.something that oppresses someone like a nightmare.) "Incubus" (c) November 2001 - - - - - - The fogginess that clouded her mind was slowly leaving her. She licked the powder from the palm of her hand and breathed in sharply as the effect took hold. With each breath, matters became clearer. She had obtained her last supply with some difficulty and that had led to her latest and larger order. The Vulcans were not good for much, in her opinion, but this native moss was the best hallucinogenic money could buy. She had learned over the years just how much to ingest to get just the right sensation... euphoric without loosing the sense of things around her. "B'Etor." B'Etor stretched and answered lazily, "Yes, my sister... what is your wish so early in the morning?" She opened one eye and looked towards the door. Lursa shook her head. "Don't you think you waste enough latinum on that stuff?" "I have my vices, just as you choose to buy your body slaves." She stretched again then sat up. She looked to the empty side of her bed and wondered if it was time to find at least one body slave for herself. "We are expected places today and you need to have a clear head." "We are merely taking over a small colony, hardly worth clear thought." She pulled out the warrior's garb she would wear today. She left her sister's presence long enough to prepare for her day. As she brushed through her long dark hair, she called out to her sister. "What do you have planned for this colony once we acquire it?" Her sister's voice carried through the door; she must have been standing close by. "I thought it would add to our price for a seat on the Council." B'Etor smiled, "Perhaps it should be offered for an alliance?" She pulled on the soft undergarments; they felt comforting to her. "No doubt you would wish it to be the Regent?" Lursa teased her about her attraction for Regent Worf of the House of Mogh, a most powerful catch. She leaned against the frame of the closed door. B'Etor slid the door open her manner was not calm. "I do not know why you bring his name up all the time." "Because you desire him." B'Etor dismissed Lursa's comment with a roll of her eyes and she pulled on her soft armour. She fastened it tightly against her body. "That is why you have taken to the yekuhl... because you can not have the Regent." B'Etor growled at her sister, "Take care, Sister, I do not take so much yekuhl that I can not sink my taj deep into your chest." She picked up the razor sharp dagger, pointed it at her sister... paused, then slipped it into its waist-sheath. ~~~~~~~~~~~ B'Etor sat back heavily in the command chair on the bridge of her small fighter. A twin of her sister's in every regard, with the exception of the registry marks and, in B'Etor's opinion, hers was the better crew. She had chosen her crew carefully, accepting even some of the older warriors... as long as their allegiance was only to her and they were willing to pay with their lives. It was a small price to pay for certain victories. Today's mission had been a successful... more successful than they had anticipated. They had acquired the colony, the small world it inhabited and a great deal of hidden latinum... and a previously unknown source of ngem tIr, a wild grain that grew in the forests... it was an ingredient for a toxic compound that could be used as a weapon. However, in very minute doses, it made an excellent hallucinogenic. B'Etor looked at the wide gash in her arm that had happened during the first attack on the colony. The colonist that had caused the injury was given the privilege of dying at her hand... he was sliced down the length of his body, with B'Etor's own be'joy blade and left to bleed to death. He had excellent stamina... and unfortunately was quite a worthy warrior... he lasted almost four hours before he asked to be released. B'Etor had tired of watching him, so she honoured his request and used his own bat'leth to severe his head from his body. The weapon now hung in her private quarters as a trophy. "HoD B'Etor..." The elder Klingon warrior bowed his head; he was the ship's surgeon and had come to the bridge to repair her arm. "Be quick." B'Etor closed her eyes and relaxed in the chair as her sleeve was untied and slipped off her arm. She glanced at the injury with some detachment. The surgeon reached into the bag slug across his body, he pulled out the newly acquired dermal regenerator. He made a few adjustments then began to repair the muscle in the young warrior's upper arm. "Do not forget to leave a scar." She was already planning out the tattoo she would have done, incorporating the scar and the tale of the take-over. The surgeon bowed his head but never once taking his eyes from his work. Her arm had to be fully functional and he had spent far too many credits for this piece of equipment to be sloppy in its application. He adjusted his hold on her arm, muttering an apology for having to touch her in the least. He sealed the wound, leaving the crescent-shaped scare behind. B'Etor glanced at the end result, nodded then waited as her sleeve was placed and retied. "Navigator, head for home." "Yes, HoD B'Etor." B'Etor stood. "I will be in my quarters if needed." She stepped down from the raised chair then calmly circled the bridge stations before leaving. She had to insure that all her orders were carried out. Now she would send word to the correct ones that would filter their accomplishment to Regent Worf... perhaps with the right about of power, he might just begin to see her as a possible mate. The door slid shut behind her. She flexed her hand and moved her arm, testing the repair work. It would do. She knew that she would have to spend some time building the strength and dexterity up to her usual level. She sat in the large comfortable chair, reached to the wide arm and opened the concealed compartment. She withdrew and small case, inside was a hypo spray and contained within was her second favourite drug... it was a mild aphrodisiac and would fuel her dreams. She knew she would have just over an hour to enjoy her solitude. She adjusted the dose and pressed the sprayer to the inside of her wrist. She felt the immediate flush and then the warm glow that slowly moved along her body. The spray was returned to its hiding place and she settled into the chair for her deliciously seductive dreams. ~~~~~~~ An afternoon in the trader's market sounded like the perfect way to end her week. B'Etor had been giving some serious thought as to ownership of a body slave and this was the best place to purchase one. The low lighting and the heavy scented air seemed to envelope B'Etor as she stepped into her favourite place. It was an establishment within the trader's market that specialized in the buying and selling of anything that had to do with pleasuring oneself. Among the selections were exotic cloths, perfumes of every type, both addictive and non-addictive drugs and of course... body slaves. B'Etor bowed her head to the owner, Kor. He had been at one time a warrior in his own right but after discovering that he could have a better future in selling rather than killing... or being killed... he and his mate opened up this place. The signage read; 'Qu'nong qub' and the translation was 'The Rare and Passionate Quest'. One needed a certain station to even enter this establishment and B'Etor was welcomed with the courtesy awarded to the high-ranking warrior that she was. Immediately, a female slave appeared, dressed in revealing clothing and offered to guide her to a private place where she could buy whatever suited her fancy. The female slave carried a large carafe of sweet bloodwine. "toy'wI. I want yekuhl, the highest quality." B'Etor hesitated for a moment then crooked a finger at the slave. "A body slave that is prepared for purchase, male and he must be of excellent stock." She looked around the room at the ones that were busy. "I do not want one that is used up." The servant nodded, "Vulcan, joH?" B'Etor nodded. She settled into the chair, her feet resting on the ottoman. She picked up the goblet that had been filled by the servant and sipped on the vintage bloodwine. There were definite pleasures to be had when one held a certain position. Her sister, Lursa, was preoccupied with spending her time attempting to get their younger brother into the Council. B'Etor did not believe that her brother would live long enough to serve. He was... stupid and sloppy in his demeanour. He chose his associates with little care and his bedmates with even less. He would die in his bed and at the hand of one that would not be worthy of the blood shed; she was certain of that. She saw the servant weaving through the crowded common room. Her own area was sectioned off with curtains that hid her presence; but she was able to watch the coming and goings of the others. She took another long sip of the wine. She had heard that the Regent frequented this place, she was not surprised as the security here was the best money could buy. The owner had no objection in the least to the use of your own guards, just as long as they were not the ones to start the fights. Perhaps she would be fortunate and the Regent would find his way here today. She mentally began to add up her assets... she would soon have enough to establish herself as a possible candidate for the Regent's mate. She sipped again on the wine, there was a part of her that would settle for being *his* bed slave... for a price. The female servant parted the curtains and bowed. By her side was a Vulcan of extraordinary looks and gait. He seemed self- assured and not to mention absolutely delightful in his tall boots, tight pants, gloved hands and open shirt... a perfect selection for a body slave as well. Now if her yekuhl would be as delicious, her night would be made. "joH B'Etor, may I present, Taurik, he is a seller of yekuhl." B'Etor was slightly disappointed that he was not hers, but then again, anything was hers for the taking... and for the right price. B'Etor stood and gestured for the female to leave. She watched with interest as this Vulcan male knelt at her feet. She reached down and teased at the dark silky hair. "What you sell is of a good quality?" "It is the finest, joH B'Etor." Taurik reached into the pouch that was at his side and withdrew a small packet of yellowish powder. He offered it to the female warrior as he stood. He had not been surprised in a long time in who actually used drugs... but their dependencies did defy all logic. He had also noted on his way in that one of her personal guards remained just beyond the curtains and had refused any manner of food or drink, no doubt the guard did this to avoid drugging of any kind. "And the price for your ownership is not too high I trust." Taurik did not even flinch when B'Etor moved closer to touch his thigh. She had a caring touch unlike most of the females he had to deal with. He noticed the off colouring to her skin, the sign of a heavy yekuhl user... at least she still had her wits about her. He drew in a slow deep breath as her hand moved up his thigh, then gently traveled to the inside of his leg. "I was not aware that you desired... other services." He allowed her touch to continue as he slipped the pouch of drugs from his shoulder. He held it for a moment searching for a reasonably protective spot for it. He may have to trust this Klingon but there were others that would have taken the drugs within a heartbeat. B'Etor's mouth barely touched the warmth of his neck. She could almost taste the Vulcan's skin. She was aware of his movements, and of his search for a safe place for his supply. She wrapped her hand around the straps, just under his hand, she met his eyes, "I will secure this for you." Taurik bowed his head slightly, and watched as B'Etor slipped the pouch in the drawer under the chair. If all went as this Klingon wished it to, he would be hers. She arranged the drape of fabric to hide the existence of the drawer. "Safe for the present." B'Etor caressed her way up his bare arm, across his shoulders, her hand wrapped around the back of his neck and she pulled him to her. Her mouth claimed his, the pressure of the kiss increased. She felt him take a step closer to her. She dropped back her head offering her bared throat to him, a sign of trust and surrender. Taurik gently nipped at the base of her neck. He reached into her hair, cradling her head as his mouth moved up her neck increasing the pressure of his bites. He felt her moan and as he reached the soft area just under her chin and sank his teeth slowly into her flesh... she growled. B'Etor stepped back to catch her breath. Somehow she managed to still be in possession of the small packet of yekuhl in her hand and she wanted some before matters got out of hand. She reached into the packet pulling out a pinch of the heavy powder between her fingers. Expertly she resealed the small packet and placed it in the hidden pocket she had designed into the bust of her armour. She rubbed the powder between her finger and thumb, watching as it fell into the centre of her palm. She opened her hand and offered some to Taurik. Taurik shook his head. "I do not indulge." B'Etor licked the powder; she felt the tingle on her tongue and then the flush travel along her body. She offered what was left on her hand to Taurik, "There is not much there." Taurik acquiesced; he held her hand and drew his tongue along her palm. He watched her as he did this; her eyes were becoming bright and glassy. He would experience very little... just enough of an affect to feel a light euphoria. He had, in the little time he had spent with her, seemed to develop a marginal trust in her. She was not crass, rough or unthinking in her treatment of him. Despite the fact that she obviously wished to be pleased, she seemed to hold some interest for his pleasures as well. Taurik moved with B'Etor towards the bed that had been provided to her. The area she had chosen was one of the larger 'rooms'. B'Etor reached to the tie fastening the Vulcan's hair back. She preferred to have his hair loose and flowing. She closed her eyes and breathed in the incense that permeated the air. She had ordered some to be placed within the area and from experience that it was a mild aphrodisiac. At least this would 'help' the mood along and bring some interest to him. Taurik was unsure as to how to proceed with this female. He moved closer to her, his fingers worked at the fasteners to her skirt and received no objections as it fell away from her. Care was taken with each of his touches on her body, he was aware that she held his life in her hands. He had also determined that if he pleased her, she was prepared to pay the price for his ownership. She had stated that he was able to retain his drug selling, but instead of the profits going to Kor... they would be hers. In the back of her mind she identified the far off growl; it was the Regent. She drew in a deep breath, allowing herself to drift deeper into the drug-induced pleasure. Hands that stroked her skin she imagined to be 'his'... strong hands that would rule a universe one day. The Regent's dark hair was imagined to fall around her head, she breathed in the incense and wondered what scent 'his' skin would have. B'Etor whispered for this male to enter her, to complete the dream of being taken by the Regent. She listened to the hot breathe by her ear, she felt the fast beating of the heart against her chest... his fingers grabbed her hair, pulling it as his body shook with release. She pulled him in deeper, holding him tight against her as she moaned for more. He licked her throat, nipped it gently, arousing her further then sunk his teeth into her bare shoulder. Her reaction was almost immediate... her body reached for his, pulled him hard against her, driving her long nails into his soft skin... and then she growled as the wave of pleasure took her over. "More yekuhl..." she whispered into the elegant ear. She had barely recovered from her climax and her thoughts were on another. She needed to maintain the euphoria, and the illusion. She ran her hands over his bare body, into his long silky hair then captured his mouth. The warm mouth kissed her back, nipped at her lips then she felt the soft powder being sprinkled into her open mouth. "joH B'Etor, I am yours to serve." = = = = = = = = = = Months later.... Taurik stood by the computer terminal in the common room, by the long couch. He was choosing another Klingon opera to read. As a Vulcan he had the intellect that slaves seldom had; and as B'Etor's favourite, he had the freedom to exercise this intellect in any way he chose to. He looked up from the download to discover Lursa entering the room. He had not seen her in a few days, B'Etor had mentioned in passing that she was off seeing to her own agenda... that of seeing their younger brother brought into power. The download finished with a gentle beep, he took the PADD and headed for the couch to sit and read. Lursa looked to this too well dressed bedslave. The tight fitting clothing that he wore was perfectly suited in cut and colour; this was partially covered with luxurious robes; his hair was tied back with expensive leathers. "She is in the mood for reading?" "The reading is mine, joH Lursa." He spoke without thinking of the consequences. "You? Reading?" Lursa stared at this one for a moment; he lifted his head to meet her eyes. Lursa crossed the room in three steps her hand snapped up and slapped his face. "Eyes down... as befitting a slave." She spit at him. Taurik felt the sting slowly creeping across his cheek and the pull in his neck muscle coming to his attention. "As you command, joH Lursa." Lursa stared at him. "My sister needs to correct your behaviour. She needs to be reminded that your position is beneath her... not beside her." Taurik stood quiet for a moment, finding the control for his embarrassment. "joH B'Etor is the one that chooses what I wear and she is the one that determines my activities." "Perhaps my sister needs to be reminded exactly what a bedslave is for?" Taurik smiled inwardly, "I assure you, joH Lursa, she is well aware." Lursa raised her hand but was stopped. She looked to the hand that surrounded her wrist... it was her sister. "He is mine to discipline, not yours. Go find one of yours to beat." B'Etor looked to Taurik. "I trust you have arranged for mid-meal." "I have, joH B'Etor. It will be brought to the dining room in a matter of minutes." He cast a sideways glance to Lursa. "There is enough for another to join you." B'Etor caught his glance and his silent suggestion. "Lursa, would you care to join me for mid-meal?" "Join you, or will your pet be with us?" Taurik took the hint, he bowed his head, "I will take me leave..." "I did not dismiss you." B'Etor looked to Lursa, "I will have the company I choose at my meals. Do you or do you not wish to join me?" Lursa weighed the effects of not joining her. There was already a rift between them over the accumulated wealth for their brother; this did not have to be added to the wedge that was beginning to separate the two sisters. "I would be honoured, My Sister." ~~~~~~ B'Etor drew in a breath, feeling the effects of the powder on her tongue. "This is an exceptionally good yield?" She stretched and reached to Taurik pulling him to her. "Pleasure me." Taurik's hand moved slowly down her body, teasing and caressing her along the path. In the short time he had been with her, he was beginning to develop a degree of caring for this Klingon female. Odd he thought as to the depth of the caring, perhaps it was because he had not been offered a place before this. Not only in bed with her, but at times, he stood at her side. He was becoming concerned with her increase use of the yekuhl. He was trying to monitor the dosages. Last night he had a taste of B'Etor's anger when he refused to give her more of the yekuhl. She had been drinking bloodwine as well and the two were a toxic combination if taken too extremes and she seemed determined to take matters to the limit... for some unknown reason. His body still held the bruises of his 'disciplining'. He had spent the morning cleaning up after her tantrum. Paintings, statues, and dishes were thrown at him, luckily missing him each time. The bedding was pulled off and thrown into the corner as her anger became frenzied, a result of the high levels of yekuhl in her system. Taurik's hand moved into her hair, brushing it back from her face. His fingers brushed over her forehead ridges, tracing the pattern he had committed to memory. "Why do you do this?" He asked in a soft voice. "Do what?" "Yekuhl." He wanted to slip into her thoughts, find the reason, he suspected she might have pushed the reason so far into the back of her mind that she was not aware of it any longer. "I have my reasons." She pushed him out of the way and sat up reaching to the small packet containing the pinkish powder. It was taken from her hand; she glared at him. "You need not concern yourself... you are merely a slave." Even to her ears the words did not sound convincing. Taurik dropped the packet onto the nightstand, and then pulled her down into the covers. He nipped at her lips, "Then command me, joH'wI." He was pleased when her hands reached into his hair and pulled him down. She captured his mouth; she bit into his lip... but not hard enough to make it bleed. He knew enough about her habits that she would save the taste of his blood for later. Taurik pulled at her hair, bending her neck backwards, his mouth tasting her throat. He knew this coupling would be a battle of power, one over the other and he intended to win this one. B'Etor shivered. She did not want to react to him, but she could not stop herself. His touch was one that she savoured. His mouth moved lower, tasting the skin on her shoulder, then down her arm biting into but not breaking the skin. He was skilled. She inhaled sharply, uncontrollably, as his mouth sucked in her breast. His hot mouth surrounded the sensitive nipple and his tongue teased it unmercifully. She heard herself growl, low and deep in her throat. Taurik moved covering her body in order to feel the minute movements of her muscles under him. He continued to suckle her, moving to the other breast when she could take no more contact on the one. She wrapped her legs around his body, pulling him tight against her, her body arching against his. Taurik moved his hands up to her shoulders; he pulled himself up slightly, capturing her mouth. He tasted her, ran his tongue along her teeth, nipped at her lips... then without preamble or permission reached deeply into her thoughts. B'Etor's body stiffened with the invasion. She wanted to scream at him, to throw him off of her. How dare he presume that he was allowed to touch her in this manner? Her eyes widened, his were so dark... and she fell into them. Taurik felt his own body stiffen for a second, until he separated his thoughts from hers. It took another moment to find his way through the fogginess that the drug caused in her mind. He had not done this in a very long time; he had the skills that many had paid for... a skill to reach into another's thoughts without hesitation or preparation. He did not loose himself in the melds as many did. He began his search for the dark notions that seemed to, at times, overtake her. This was when she used the yekuhl the most. How had that Vulcan brought this up in her? Had she been running from this all along? Her drug state had been lifted and the pains swept in. ~~ Scenes begin to unfold... flashes of memories... It had been lifetime since she had visited this place. She comes upon familiar surrounding. She is before a tombstone remembering a pain. Fear and anticipation. Been the first time in a lifetime that she has been back. Hello my friend we meet again. She stuck at the stone with a bat'leth. It sparks and it descends into a flash back. She is moving to the hard music going on in the hall and they bump into each other. Meeting at an Opera: childhood friends. Hello my friend we met again. Room spins as they lose themselves in each other. He is tall and elegant looking. Nothing like the ruffians that these others boys are. She remembered him to be smart and funny nothing like her brothers. He was studying science and was gentle with her always. And he was being very solicitous. She liked his smile. And that way he looked at her made her warm and beautiful. A perfect love that you gave to me. Fell in love. After the coupling he snuggles her breast and he toys with his hair. In bed in her room very passionate, he bit her palm sniffs it and she curls her fingers inward cutting into her palms. Reciting poetry form a popular modern opera they have both seen: When you are with me I am free. I am careless. I believe. Above all the others we'll fly. This brings tears to my eyes. "You are so sentimental are all men cry-babies?" "We are more sensitive to the complexities, joys and sorrows of the Klingon experience than you females." "I guess that is why you are the poets. More than one use for you all. I have never cried in my life nor to I intend to." "Tears wash away the fears and fortify the soul. You should try it my dearest love." "Perhaps in child birth one day, My sacrifice." As he climbs down, the pinnacle of her happiness... her father entered. "What the hell are you doing?" Her eyes open and he suspects something and looks down the wall, and notices a shadow. "What is going on?" and throws her to the bed. He calls to her mother, "What is this? Blood on her sheet from losing her virginity! Now you are useless to me!" She was backhanded. Her tears. "Do not cry daughter. Who was it? That boy I saw you talking to. I am going to contact his parent and demand satisfaction." "No Father... he is the one." "He has dishonoured his family and ours. You were intended to another now I can't use you. You are dead to me. You might as well be gone." Then the meeting between the fathers... "Your son defiled my daughter." "If that is the case then I suppose you are demanding satisfaction." "Indeed I am. He is your only son." "Yes he is my heir but that is no matter what must be done must be done. Shall I bring him over?" "No, let him come on his own." "As you wish." The boy stood up to her father. "I claim her." B'Etor felt fear... then hope and pride that her mate is doing this for her... for them. "Over my dead body." "After I dispatch with this challenge B'Etor we are going." Then gets the bat'leth in the belly from the elder brother... Duras. In the background, her father calls his father. "It is done." "How did he die?" "He died well." "Then matters between us are done?" "Indeed. Shall we continue with those negotiations?" "Yes, I see no reason not to. Are you going to pick up the empty shell?" "His 'mate can deal with it. Until the counsel chambers then Duras." Her mother comments, "Well daughter, it seems you have a duty. To dispose of his body." "Bury him," says Lursa had never before bothered with B'Etor. "I will tend to that matter." She cradled him as he dies but he is happy to have him die honourably... he is at peace and they share their poem. "My sacrifice." He whispers, "I just want to say hello again." She roars at his death. Her roar carries his warrior sprit to Sto-Vo-Kor... above the house outward form the clouds... the thunder crashed and the rains began. He dies and life switches to the grave. It is raining there too. "I just want to say hello again." She notices the marks on her palms from their last night. Her fingernails dig into her palm as she keeps her tears in. Then she is over his grave remembering what they shared. Her hands trembled her body quivered. 'When you are with me, I'm free. I am careless I believe. Above all others well fly that brings tears to my eyes... I can't even cry for you my dearest heart...' Her rage her despairs are so great she can't even think. Then she gets mad... dons the warrior garb and for the first time in her life, she picks up a bat'leth. The same bat'leth that had slain her lover... her brother's weapon and no one stopped her. Lursa aligned herself with her sister. 'Above all the others we'll fly this brings tears to my eyes my sacrifice.' She beckons to Lursa, "Well since he does not want us let's get out of here." Her heart hardens and her rage is turned outward. She is going to prove in this world and show her father and everyone... that she is not worthless. "Agreed sister... let us seek our own fortune." "Do not interfere Duras it is her right to claim the weapon. You will have to learn how to use that my sister." "You will instruct me?" "Of course... we are partners." This ends with two angry determined daughters leaving. They went to say their farewells but the brothers and father turned their back on them, their mother offers them a purse and her name. B'Etor notices the nick taken out of the stone from her weapon, she reaches out to caress the scarred stone. She will put many more there in the futures she promises him... and then she finally sheds a tear for his loss. That is the name of the bat'leth too; the bat'leth has been cleansed of another's blood but never his. Only one side has his blood, she uses the other blades to slay others. So his alone has a place of honour on the fore blade in this four bladed weapon. The scenes dim with B'Etor leaning her foot against his grave. "I just want to say hello again. My sacrifice..." The meld ended... and B'Etor saw her life in a way she had not before... her hand lifted to strike Taurik for his 'intrusion'; after all she had the right to discipline him. But sense grabbed a hold of her and she lowered her hand. Taurik lowered his eyes, "I beg for forgiveness." There was a silence that followed, B'Etor was not sure if she should grant it or hold it over him for a time. She decided to do neither, "Do it again, and you die Vulcan." ~~~~~~~ It was months later and B'Etor's drug addiction had ended and not without a great deal of anguish. Taurik had been there to help her with her withdrawal and with Lursa's help had begun to discover her place. The first sign of their improved position was an invitation to the opera and to a gathering afterwards. This was usually reserved for the elite of the society, a place where one could find allies and possibly a mate. B'Etor stood off to the side, a goblet of bloodwine in her hand. She was slightly out of breath, she had been laughing and dancing for most of the past hour. She sipped on the wine; even the wine had been tasting a little better than she remembered. Taurik stood behind and off to the side, a mug of bloodwine in his hand. He did not mind the taste, and found the heady sensation to be to his liking. He had reached a higher stature than he had planned on. He had hoped to improve B'Etor's position and there-by improving his own. He had expected to enjoy the benefits of added wealth and power, but not this high. He had also planned to eventually move himself to a place of trust... but he had not expected to become her bedslave, confident and chief advisor. B'Etor had been talking and then heard the noise of someone entering the party. The room fell quiet it was the Regent himself. He growled that the celebrations were to continue, and everyone moved back slowly and with a slight uneasiness to what they had been doing. B'Etor had not noticed that Taurik had moved closer to her, he offered to fill her goblet again. She let him as she watched the Regent. The Regent moved with sureness, he would hold out his hand and a mug would be placed there. His entourage moved with him through the room maintaining a discreet distance from him. The Regent looked her way, she had expected her heart to be caught in her throat and her heart to be pounding... but none of it happened. She bowed her head, he offered her recognition with the slight lift of his mug then he turned away to speak with another warrior. She was disappointed... in the reaction she felt, in the recognition that he offered and mostly in the Regent himself. He was very... unappealing now that she held position and wealth almost equal to his own. She turned when she felt a light touch on her arm. She met Taurik's eyes, and in that instant decided that this was enough for her... maybe not for et ernity, but for now. She reached to pull him closer, then kissed the warm mouth. She whispered close to his ear, "I wish to leave." Taurik shot a glance at the Regent then met B'Etor's eyes. Something had changed in her in the few moments since the Regent had arrived and he was anxious to find out what it was. He lowered his eyes, "As you desire, joH." ~~~~~~~~ END Feedback delightfully accepted at: tpotts@sprint.ca