[LOG][PRP] A Mark on the World [Makri x Balthier]

[- Mynsed -]

Life with his new mistress was very troubling and yet, exhilarating. He was always on his toes, waiting in trepidation for her next move. She liked poking and prying through his carefully built walls, looking for knotches to slowly make them crumble. It was frustrating. But it was exciting, doing this dance with her.

Letting out a sigh, he stepped out of the water of the pond, shaking out his mane. He had woken up especially early that morning and so, he thought he may as well bathe. It didn't help with taming his thoughts, however. Which were full of his mistress. Makri. She didn't want him calling her by that name. But he did so in his head. She was in his thoughts before falling asleep and was ever present when he woke up. He was sure she was also there in his dreams but he couldn't remember them very well. He was eager to get to her side but, at the same time, reluctant. The conflicting feelings were leaving him very confused.

Closing his eyes, he sat there for a moment, listening to the silence. The rare silence. By the time he opened his eyes again, something occurred to him. The sky was getting brighter. The world was waking up. And... he was late. "Curses," he muttered to himself, taking off in a dart in the direction of his den. First day late, he was not looking forward to his mistress's reaction.  

[- Mynsed -]

There had never been any doubt that somehow, at some point, Balthier would finally make a misstep. She had been hoping that it would have come in the form of a misplaced word, a boundary overstepped that could not be uncrossed once he had done so, but he had always been just a little too careful. When she thought about all the things she could exact punishment for, it certainly had never occurred to her that it would be something as simple as being late. A part of her was disappointed at the carelessness but the wicked core of Makri's soul was still eagerly amused none-the-less.

Today was a day that their games became a lot more fun.

She heard him long before she saw him, having listened to his paws beat their path to her den time and time again, only tinted today with an urgency that told her how aware he was of his failure. She sat just beyond the entrance, obscured in the shadows where the sunlight did not quite touch her. It was only her eyes that stood out from the dusky shadows, aglow with the bit of light they were afforded.

As he came into view, her maw split into a wicked, terrible smile - beneath her haunting eyes the pearly fangs were visible, too.

"You are quite late, my pet." Then, after a pause, "come here."  

[- Mynsed -]

 

[- Mynsed -]

Makri took to her feet in a graceful sweep as he bowed low and chose to make a long, slow circle around his bright form. Her eyes trailed across him as she did, taking in the sight of him from the pads of his paws to the tip of his tail, pointed and obvious as she did. She wanted him to feel as if he were being weighed and measured, she wanted him to feel as if he were being judged. He was, of course, but making it known was apt to make him squirm that much more and she adore whenever her pet squirmed. Half the fun of him was making him punish himself.

"Apologizes do not buy back time, Balthier," she dipped low as she spoke, murmuring her words next to his ear. Instead of continuing her circling, she stopped there, inches from his face with her wicked mask directly next to his mane. A paw came up, claws just barely unsheathed, so that she could give his still-damp mane a single brush. It wasn't enough contact to even touch his fur but it was enough that he would feel the pressure and know that she was inside of his personal bubble.

"What were you doing that was so important, hm?" Her paw dropped and she shifted again, moving so that she could stand directly before him, staring down at his averted gaze.

How much was it going to take to drive a reaction from him, she wondered? Would she at all? Her tail flicked as she thought, waiting for his answer, and every bit of her seemed the lioness at hunt. He really was becoming quite the favorite.  

[- Mynsed -]

She was silent for a while, circling him. Like a vulture. And he was feeling quite like a carcass. It frustrated him but he attempted to keep his expression void of emotions. His careful watch of her gathered very little information. She gave very little hints to herself away. But Balthier was sure of one thing; she liked to play on emotions and mentality. She did things to make him squirm.

And yet, despite this knowledge, Balthier couldn't counteract it. Sure, he could guess at what she was trying to do but he still couldn't prevent his own reactions to it. And worse of all? He still didn't know exactly of what she was capable of, which kept him tense. No, knowing that she liked to toy with him changed nothing.

His head remained down when she came close to meet him but his eyes were barely lowered, unable to become completely subservant. She was close... too close. Threatening close. Was this another mind game of hers? Or would there be more? He hadn't disobeyed before, so he honestly didn't know how far she would go. It would be a good observation but that fact didn't make him any less nervous about what the outcome would be.

"Bathing, mistress," he tried to reply in a casual tone but there was a hint of strain in his voice that he hoped Makri wouldn't hear. Of course, he knew his hope was in vain; she was looking for signs of discomfort. She would zero in on this. His eyes flickered up to meet her's, a small polite smile in place. "I had thought my mistress would not like an unkempt sador by her side," he murmured. Not a lie but not quite the truth. Hopefully, it was acceptable. His heart was in his throat, the long healed scars on his paws burning in reminder of past masters. Uncertainty couldn't be kept from his gaze, regardless of the small smile.  

[- Mynsed -]

There was no way to miss the strain, contrasted as it was by his too-casual attempt at covering it up. The obvious discomfort written into his every reaction was so delectable that she was positively buzzing from snout to tail and yet, somehow, it just wasn't enough.

One dark paw raised, claws just barely unsheathed, to push his chin up to meet her gaze. The razor tips glanced along his fur, not so much pressure to p***k the skin beneath, but enough to leave parts in the paler hide where his mane did not quite reach. As was her wont, she judged him in silence, picking apart his demeanor and devouring it down into the vault that was her knowledge of Balthier. Then, at last, she released him and brushed passed him with a sigh on her maw and a peculiar look in her eyes.

"I had hoped you would have put a toe out of line by now. Punishing you for bathing is hardly any fun at all, you know."

For a breath she kept her back to him, staring boredly off into the distance, focusing on some arbitrary, unimportant feature on the horizon that honestly didn't keep her attention at all. Then she was turning, sitting once more in that rigid, regal position that belied all the silent danger beneath her dark fur. When her eyes leveled on him this time there was an altogether different look there - judging, absolutely, but the scale she measured him against was not the same as it had always been.

"I am giving you once chance to speak openly with me, Balthier, one chance to open up that pretty mug of yours and spill truths without repurcussion. Do you understand?"  

[- Mynsed -]

His head went up easily, eyes dashing up to meet hers. The unsureness lurked within his gaze as he stared at her, though he attempted to keep on an eased smile. The claws were digging in threateningly. She was try to cow it. And even though he knew this, he also knew she was succeeding. It frustrated him, to be unnerved like this.

It seemed like eternity before she finally released him. He dare not jerk away before then. A breath of relief was barely caught as he straightened up. He didn't want her to know just how tense he really had been. He didn't even realize how tense he had been until she had released him. "What a kind mistress you are," he murmured, bowing his head. There was a slight tone of mockery, very slight. After all, she did express wanting to punish him.

When she gave him the opportunity to speak openly, his heart quickened. He wasn't used to this sort of tactic. His mind raced, trying to decipher what she could possibly be digging for. "What... is it you wish me to say?" he asked unsurely, ears twitching. He wasn't about to spill his truths. He wouldn't lie but he sure as hell would keep a vault on his past, his secrets, his opinions. The wrong word to the wrong lion could leave him in hot water, after all.  

[- Mynsed -]

"It's smart of you to be afraid of me," there was no taunt laced into the words as she spoke now, unlike the way she had addressed him so often in the past, "not just because of who I am or your rank in this pride but because it's an important part of survival. If you weren't afraid of me I wouldn't like you half so much, my pet. I don't like fools. Everyone is afraid of something that could kill them, that is a mortal truth, and the wise know it."

For her, her fears were very few and she very rarely spoke of them. Balthier had only ever seen her as someone in charge of her own fate but her entire life had been overshadowed by a more keen lion, by a more wickedly brilliant spirit. Her love for her brother was weighed heavily against her fear of him and all the ways he could make someone suffer. She was as she had always seemed - bluntly malicious - but Do'al was a beast spit from the depths of chaos with a smile meant to turn blood cold. It was that small, tiny ounce of empathy that made her want to raise the male up to something more than a simple pet.
"You have so much promise in that head of yours, I am not blind to it. You are smart and cunning but every ounce of it is turned toward survival, it leaves nothing left for me to employ if I have need for it." Her tail flicked as she watched him, trying to judge how he soaked in her words, if any of it inflated his ego or surprised him. She knew he was cunning but she did not know his motivations - even as a Sador she had no doubt that he had them. "So what I want you to tell me, Balthier is whether or not all you want from your life is to survive until you're cold and dead."

Another quick, snap of her tail punctuated a narrowing of her eyes and the lines of her muscles shifted, as if she wanted to stand and pace around him again. It was clear, at once, that she was doing her very best not to push intimidation upon him. She wanted his honesty.

"Or do you want to leave a mark in the world before you go?"  

[- Mynsed -]

Well. So she knew he was afraid. And she easily suggested that she could kill him. He gave a tight smile, not responding. He wasn't scared of death. Death came to all. It was lingering in a life full of pain. There were things worse than death, after all. But he wasn't going to let her know this.

"I am ready for you to use my... smarts and cunning as you will, mistress," he murmured, eyeing her suspiciously. Where was she going with this? What did she want from him? Truly wanted from him? Her question left him quiet. He... did want to survive. He knew his life was to serve. There was nothing more to a sador's future than that. What did she want from this world?

He... paused for a long moment. Before finally, he ventured out a question of his own. "And what sort of mark would you suggest a sador like me to make on this world?" he asked, sador said just a tad bit bitterly. His tone was less formal, carefully demanding.  

[- Mynsed -]

Finally.

The difference was very slight but she heard it, that bitterness at claiming what he was and the way he, for once, wanted to know more than she was willing to give up. For the first time she felt his carefully constructed exterior part just enough to let her see into what she had always known to be there - a lion spiteful of his lot in life, if too wise to show it openly. It was what she had hoped for, a small, useful ember of aspiration at his core. She could use that, she could fan those flames and make of him a wildfire fit to devour those who stood in the way of her machinations.

"I have already told you I have no use of a mate, Balthier. Love is a fool's game that rarely makes either party stronger, it simply gives weaknesses and downfalls, it distracts one from a goal when there is a constant consideration of someone else's safety." She did push herself up onto her feet now, edging towards him slowly as she laid out her proposition. "I do, however, have a great need of a partner in life - I need eyes and ears in places I cannot be. I need a lion at my right paw, dedicated to my plans."

As she neared him now, her shoulder brushed into his, letting her trail her side along his own as she slid past him. Her tail curled at the end, running beneath his chin so that she could brush the dark tuft along his jawline in what could arguably have been the most feminine, teasing gesture she had ever displayed. She paused there, leaned here weight into him, and glanced back over her shoulder to judge the reaction in his face and posture.

"And eventually I've a need for a strong, wise father to sire my cubs. That is the most pointed mark you can leave in this world, Balthier - a family that can bring even the greatest of lions to their knees."  

[- Mynsed -]

She was a turmoil of confusion that left him scrambling for pieces of what was real and what wasn’t. Never, in his life, had even remotely expressed his bitterness towards his lot in life. It just wasn’t done. It was dangerous. He should be grateful. And for the longest time, he had convinced himself that he didn’t care, it didn’t matter. That that was life, there was nothing more to it. There was nothing to change.

And yet, Makri joined Aegnor’hini, toyed with him, and made him unbury feelings of resentment and hopelessness that he didn’t know he possessed. It was unnerving. It was… terrifying. Way more than standing on brambles for hours. More than remaining in a cave near the volcano during the heat season. More than bathing in ivy because he had forgotten to deliver something for a master. More than… other, darker things that had taken away his innocence so long ago. No, this was far more terrifying than any of those things. His mistress was making him feel bitterness, resentment… he was inwardly betraying his pride, his future twisting and bleak. He no longer saw a path laid out for him. He could no longer be content with just being a sador. Those feelings had been brought to light, even if by a little bit.

And she wasn’t intending to quit there. He froze, expression carefully blank as his mind raced. She wasn’t suggesting what he thought she was… was she? Siring… children. With her. It wasn’t unheard of, though it was more unlikely between a demon and a sador. But there it was, plain as day. She was… asking him to sire cubs. Complimenting him by calling him strong and wise. He wouldn’t fall for the flattery. Makri didn’t flatter without reason. Not out of good spirit. His expression became wary.
However… the more he dwelled on it, the more his heart soared. Not out of love or affection. He didn’t know if he could ever feel that way towards his cruel mistress. But… there was purpose. There was meaning. She was giving him those things. And all she expected was… what? Loyalty? Cubs? He swallowed hard. He wouldn’t be her equal. He couldn’t be close. But Makri had fastened a knot on him from day one and had only been adding more since then. It occurred to him that he would betray his pride for her, if she so asked it. Without batting an eye or considering it a betrayal. Whereas before, he would have hesitated and gone about it in a neutral way. It dawned on him how much of a hold she had on his life now… in this short of time, she had made him hers completely and solely. It was frightening. She was frightening.

He bowed his head slightly, though his eyes bore into hers without flinching, without shying. They were almost challenging, holding a heat of purpose instead of simply drifting in the wind. ”I am yours to command, mistress,” he murmured. ”I will be your eyes and ears, waiting at your right paw. I will be dedicated to your interests and plans. I will provide you with children,” he told her with soft fierceness. He waited for a heartbeat. He needed to say the next bit. He needed to. ”I will be devoted entirely to you. But, Makri,” he breathed her name. ”I do not think I can nor will fall in love with you.” He needed her to know… it would be as partners, as she said. But it would be definite. He would not wax and wan and succumb even his heart to her. She could have his mind, body, and spirit. But she would not have all of him.