Interlude – The Lies that Bind Us
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
"You're brooding, Isha," Rh'vaurek said. He had had a brief discussion with Deletham and he chose to obey the ambassador's request that he attend her as soon as he arrived back at the consulate. Rh'vaurek found her sitting on one of the low sofas illuminated by soft lamplight, with the vrelnec that had been her husband's resting across her knees; it was never a good sign when Isha started dwelling on her late husband. “You wished to see me.”
"I have every right to this," she told him taking the hilt in her right hand, unusual in itself as Isha usually favoured her left. Was she trying to convince him or herself, Rh'vaurek wondered. He disliked talking about her dead husband, it was not a neutral topic.
“Its late,” Isha said as she rose and placed the weapon back on the stand. “Is it over?” her question referring to the attack on the station.
“The attackers have been contained,” Rh'vaurek replied taking the seat opposite to the one she had occupied without invitation. “I hear you’ve taken to having the staff disciplined for lax behaviour,” he said as she turned back to him, referring to the beating that had been administered to the girl who let the Cardassian Ambassador in.
“Such a lapse was unforgivable,” she replied unconsiously kneeding her left wrist in a repetitive motion as she sat, “I cannot have all and sundry coming in here without invitation, sometimes an example is necessary.”
Rh’vaurek did not disagree with her, but the statement coming from Isha was out of place, he had never known her to resort to directly ordering brutality in order to keep her subordinates in line – Isha was a rare sort, both loved and respected by those beneath her - she left discipline to others such as himself. What had changed that? What did she believe she had to prove?
He stood, and walked round the low coffee table and sat opposite her, on its edge. “What’s wrong with your wrist,” he asked his eyes not leaving her face as his hand covered hers and he turned it palm up within his.
“I fell,” Isha replied. "Its only a sprain."
She tried to pull away but he held her there, firmly but without force, the back of her hand cradled in his palm. He did not know for certain if this was by accident or design though he suspected the latter. Rh’vaurek was familiar with an unpleasant trick which left a victim to torture and ultimately cripple themselves in their efforts to work out the shooting sensations that burned beneath the skin and to ease the lingering stiffness by movement, an activity which only compounded the nerve damage rapidly condemning the sufferer to constant inoperable pain.
He felt the tension in her and saw the way she looked at him, her gaze begging him not to ask questions and not to cause her any pain. But there was no way he could avoid hurting her, not if she wanted to regain the use of that hand anyway.
"Its dislocated," he explained, not believing her lie for a fraction of a second. Isha had clearly pissed someone off, someone who knew what they were doing. Rh'vaurek was tempted to wring it from her, but despite their brief lapse into public friendship before his, and then Isha's summoning to ch'Rihan they had resumed the deceit of enmity that had taken them through the wilderness years.
Lured by the distance from Imperial eyes they had risked too much and suffered for it, or rather Isha had; somehow Rh'vaurek had come away with a promotion and a warning to keep a tighter rein on her. Isha on the other hand they had been prepared to execute if she did not agree to stay in line. Rh'vaurek could only imagine what contortions of truth and law Isha had performed to secure her freedom this time.
They both understood that they had risked too much and now had gone to great lengths to resume the deception, that was the way it had to be. Rh'vaurek could not come to her rescue, such a step would rip their cloak apart; if Isha did not explicitly tell him then he would keep his suspicions to himself and take no action, trusting in Isha’s reason for keeping her silence. Their relationship, that combination of two ferocious and independent powers, was fraught with passion, rivalry and desire, it was not for daylight. The only moments they could safely share were these stolen moments in the dark.
With a tenderness that few people would have believed him capable Rh’vaurek began to manipulate the small bones of Isha's wrist. He just needed to find the right spot, the bone that was misaligned and press it back into position, that would release the artfully trapped nerves and allow her to recover.
Isha's lower lip clamped beneath her teeth was pale with the pressure, a strangled whimper caught in her throat, the only indication that he was hurting her.
"It'll pass," Rh'vaurek told her as he pinched and rolled his forfinger and thumb as if against one another; a sound, halfway between a crack and a schlupp accompanied the shift as her wrist realigned itself between them. "Its done, d'Ishaal," he said placing his other hand over her upturned palm.
"Rh'vaurek," she began before he hushed her with a touch of his fingers to her lips.
"I have to go. Get some rest, Isha," he advised as he released her hand. Rh'vaurek pressed his palms against his knees as he rose and waited for her to do the same, but seeing that she was not going to move he merely reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You look as though you haven't slept for a week," he observed.
I haven't, Isha wanted to say as her hand dropped into her lap, she could control the apparition of her husband's brother when she was awake, but when she slept - that was when the dead man's taunts did their most harm. Instead she stared at him in silence until Rh'vaurek turned and departed.
"I have every right to this," she said once he was gone.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
&
erie'Khrein Rh'vaurek Raedheol
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
| Title | The Lies that Bind Us | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek | |
| Posted | Mon May 03, 2010 @ 3:01pm | |
| Location | Romulan Consulate | |
| Timeline | SD18, after midnight |
"I have every right to this," she told him taking the hilt in her right hand, unusual in itself as Isha usually favoured her left. Was she trying to convince him or herself, Rh'vaurek wondered. He disliked talking about her dead husband, it was not a neutral topic.
“Its late,” Isha said as she rose and placed the weapon back on the stand. “Is it over?” her question referring to the attack on the station.
“The attackers have been contained,” Rh'vaurek replied taking the seat opposite to the one she had occupied without invitation. “I hear you’ve taken to having the staff disciplined for lax behaviour,” he said as she turned back to him, referring to the beating that had been administered to the girl who let the Cardassian Ambassador in.
“Such a lapse was unforgivable,” she replied unconsiously kneeding her left wrist in a repetitive motion as she sat, “I cannot have all and sundry coming in here without invitation, sometimes an example is necessary.”
Rh’vaurek did not disagree with her, but the statement coming from Isha was out of place, he had never known her to resort to directly ordering brutality in order to keep her subordinates in line – Isha was a rare sort, both loved and respected by those beneath her - she left discipline to others such as himself. What had changed that? What did she believe she had to prove?
He stood, and walked round the low coffee table and sat opposite her, on its edge. “What’s wrong with your wrist,” he asked his eyes not leaving her face as his hand covered hers and he turned it palm up within his.
“I fell,” Isha replied. "Its only a sprain."
She tried to pull away but he held her there, firmly but without force, the back of her hand cradled in his palm. He did not know for certain if this was by accident or design though he suspected the latter. Rh’vaurek was familiar with an unpleasant trick which left a victim to torture and ultimately cripple themselves in their efforts to work out the shooting sensations that burned beneath the skin and to ease the lingering stiffness by movement, an activity which only compounded the nerve damage rapidly condemning the sufferer to constant inoperable pain.
He felt the tension in her and saw the way she looked at him, her gaze begging him not to ask questions and not to cause her any pain. But there was no way he could avoid hurting her, not if she wanted to regain the use of that hand anyway.
"Its dislocated," he explained, not believing her lie for a fraction of a second. Isha had clearly pissed someone off, someone who knew what they were doing. Rh'vaurek was tempted to wring it from her, but despite their brief lapse into public friendship before his, and then Isha's summoning to ch'Rihan they had resumed the deceit of enmity that had taken them through the wilderness years.
Lured by the distance from Imperial eyes they had risked too much and suffered for it, or rather Isha had; somehow Rh'vaurek had come away with a promotion and a warning to keep a tighter rein on her. Isha on the other hand they had been prepared to execute if she did not agree to stay in line. Rh'vaurek could only imagine what contortions of truth and law Isha had performed to secure her freedom this time.
They both understood that they had risked too much and now had gone to great lengths to resume the deception, that was the way it had to be. Rh'vaurek could not come to her rescue, such a step would rip their cloak apart; if Isha did not explicitly tell him then he would keep his suspicions to himself and take no action, trusting in Isha’s reason for keeping her silence. Their relationship, that combination of two ferocious and independent powers, was fraught with passion, rivalry and desire, it was not for daylight. The only moments they could safely share were these stolen moments in the dark.
With a tenderness that few people would have believed him capable Rh’vaurek began to manipulate the small bones of Isha's wrist. He just needed to find the right spot, the bone that was misaligned and press it back into position, that would release the artfully trapped nerves and allow her to recover.
Isha's lower lip clamped beneath her teeth was pale with the pressure, a strangled whimper caught in her throat, the only indication that he was hurting her.
"It'll pass," Rh'vaurek told her as he pinched and rolled his forfinger and thumb as if against one another; a sound, halfway between a crack and a schlupp accompanied the shift as her wrist realigned itself between them. "Its done, d'Ishaal," he said placing his other hand over her upturned palm.
"Rh'vaurek," she began before he hushed her with a touch of his fingers to her lips.
"I have to go. Get some rest, Isha," he advised as he released her hand. Rh'vaurek pressed his palms against his knees as he rose and waited for her to do the same, but seeing that she was not going to move he merely reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You look as though you haven't slept for a week," he observed.
I haven't, Isha wanted to say as her hand dropped into her lap, she could control the apparition of her husband's brother when she was awake, but when she slept - that was when the dead man's taunts did their most harm. Instead she stared at him in silence until Rh'vaurek turned and departed.
"I have every right to this," she said once he was gone.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
&
erie'Khrein Rh'vaurek Raedheol