by Vi Voxley
Atren left, leaving Diego and Faren to a tense silence.
“Even if Eren did not modify him…” Faren said and left it at that.
Diego didn’t need him to elaborate any further. Atren had been right. He simply hadn’t wanted to consider the option that Crane might choose to fight him barehanded. All the advantages Diego had were based on distance and his weapons wearing Crane down before moving in for the kill.
Going close combat on that brute was practically the same as putting his head in Crane’s headlock voluntarily. Faren didn’t need to say anything. They’d both seen Crane rip limbs off and break bones with horrifying ease. That had been when he was still sane.
No, Diego Grothan had never truly feared anything. Now he was about to fight someone who was incapable of fear.
---
Urenya was hard at work as always when he entered the med bay. He fought down a pleased smile seeing her equipment already prepared for him.
Diego had never felt the temptation to go through the complicated, painful and unpredictable procedures of modifying his body. In the dark days, when the Elders of old had tried to reel in the uncontrollable Brion rage, technology had been the most advanced they’d ever had. It was long lost, but not all knowledge could be deleted at a wish. Things remain; get passed down from one to the next, especially in a culture relying heavily on oral tradition.
Still, modifications technology was far from perfect and far from precise. There was a whole field dedicated to unlocking its secrets, but so far only bits and pieces had been discovered. Of course there were plenty of those who would risk it for the promising outcomes – bones as hard as metal because they were partly metal, skin and flesh that healed faster, and so on. Some were lucky, but the occasions where the modifications proved to be more help than distraction were rare.
All that applied to those sane enough to think rationally. Diego didn’t doubt for a moment that if Eren had reached Crane in time, found the scientists early enough and done the operations, he would have packed the new general full of everything he could. It was no loss to him personally if it didn’t work out. It wasn’t his body and Crane, if the rumors and sources were to be believed, was no longer capable of comprehending what was done to him.
But even if he didn’t want to risk modifications – some were impractical, having a body armor of strengthened skin tissue would impair his movements – he was willing to accept doses of stimulants, boosting his already sharp senses to even greater levels for a short time.
“What weapon did he choose?” Urenya asked, injecting the stimulants straight into his muscle. They burned, but Diego enjoyed the red hot flash of sharpness each of the boosters brought.
“He has not announced it yet,” he said. “We think he will suggest a barehanded fight.”
Urenya stopped for a moment, standing before him, suddenly looking like the child Diego had once played with. Then her usual calm manner returned. “It makes sense. He is big and slower than you, he has to play to that.”
“Eren,” Diego corrected. “Crane is said to no longer think at all.”
“I doubt Eren thinks either,” Urenya said. “Or if, of revenge.”
“Of course.”
“You need to know something,” the healer said then, finishing up the last injection and waiting for Diego to shake himself clear of the dizzying after-effect.
“Eleya is Eren’s gesha,” she said then. “Only they never consummated it. Eleya refused.”
If the situation hadn’t called for a completely different priority, Diego would have demanded to know why he hadn’t been informed of that sooner, but the answer was obvious enough. Those things were private, very private, and it made sense for Eleya to trust Urenya. Healers inspired trust, only it raised the question of why tell him now.
Urenya turned back to her duties, carrying on with her work as she usually did even when Diego came to see her. “It may come in handy when you finally confront Eren. That has to be a painful topic for him. In a moment when you need to distract him, use that.”
A thought occurred to Diego, an ugly one.
“You knew this,” he began. “You have known for a while.”
“I did,” Urenya admitted. “Eleya told me a long time ago, pretty much when it happened. She asked me to keep it secret until it was absolutely necessary you know. That did not happen before now.”
“She is with Isolde,” Diego went on. “I let Isolde go to Briolina, because Eleya promised to protect her.”
“I am sure she can,” Urenya said.
“You misunderstand,” Diego said, growling. “You let me send my gesha to Briolina with a Brion gesha that fought her mate.”
Urenya gave him a hard look, something which Diego would have admired if he hadn’t been mad. “It means nothing. I think it might do Isolde good if they got to talking.”
Another realization. Diego’s fists clenched. “You told Eleya to tell her.”
“I suggested it,” Urenya admitted.
Diego crossed the distance between them before the healer could react. She was of small build, much more so to a full-grown Brion warrior. Even in his fury, he had to remind himself to hold back his strength when he slammed her into a wall, his hand closing around her throat. He saw naked fear, but determination as well.
“Why?” he demanded, snarling. “Why would you do that?”
“You have to trust me,” Urenya coughed, her hands trying to push his away, with little success. If Diego had wanted, he could have crushed her windpipe in a second. “It will do her good.”
“To know the sacred bind is not so sacred even to our own people?” Diego demanded.
His blood roared. The idea that Isolde had fought him of her own volition was painful enough, but to have someone confirm and support that… He felt betrayed, nothing less.
“Yes, exactly,” Urenya whispered. “Diego, you are hurting me… Let go –”
He allowed the healer fall to the floor, coughing. Their friendship was old and solid; Narath and she had always done their duty to him. Urenya had always taken his side. He couldn’t let his fear of losing Isolde – the only true fear he could ever have – cloud his judgement, permit the fury that hid within him rise to surface and lash out at his closest companions.
The comm link on his collar beeped to life. He took a moment to steel his voice and answered it, although he already knew what was coming.
“He made the announcement,” the bridge reported. “Crane has chosen a barehanded fight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Isolde
Isolde felt like a walking cliché of womanhood. As the shuttle docked with a pleasant purr of its engines, she experienced every emotion at once. She was tired, afraid, excited, a bit upset, hungry, horny, confused and pretty happy at the same time. The talk with Eleya had set off something she couldn’t yet explain, though she could guess. Right now, at the brink of setting foot on Briolina, she pushed everything aside.
She felt like an explorer taking her first step on a strange and undiscovered land, even if by all accounts Briolina was ahead of Terra in terms of development.
To distract herself from the situation, dire by all aspects imaginable, she made the first step dramatic for herself. Stepping down from the shuttle, she breathed in – perfectly natural air. Clean, even. The shuttle had brought them to Briolina’s capital, to one of the huge four compounds standing in the corners of an imaginary square. They towered above the gleaming, pristine city below. An ancient instinct called to Isolde to look over the edge, but she didn’t dare. They were up so high she thought a gust of wind might blow her over.
Alright, so technically it wasn’t even her first step on Briolina, because it wasn’t the ground.
The welcoming party approaching them forced her back to reality.
Seeing three Brion generals among them, Isolde felt very helpless, while Eleya’s lips twisted into a mocking smirk.
“He flatters us,” she told Narath and Deliya, who a
pparently shared her sense of humor, which Isolde found, frankly speaking, pretty morbid.
“Who?” she asked.
“Eren,” Eleya said, motioning for her to walk to meet them. “Three generals to protect him from us.”
“Comforting,” Isolde whispered as they approached the other Brions. “You’re saying we’re vastly overpowered and you think that’s funny.”
Eleya merely grinned, her valor squares pulsing happily on her neck. Isolde had come to realize all Brion warriors had different ways to deal with the danger and battle they lived for. Diego faced it calmly, head-on. Faren greeted danger coldly, staring down his enemies until he had gathered all their weaknesses and could end it all with a precise blow. Eleya – she laughed in the face of danger, welcoming it.
Everyone here is crazy, Isolde reminded herself. Maybe laughing was truly the best option, considering she was pretty much powerless to do anything else.
---
Senator Eren welcomed them alone, which meant he was the lone senator in the room besides Eleya. The three generals remained close to him, the message glaringly clear.
“So you are Diego’s gesha,” Eren said. Isolde wasn’t sure if his tone was mocking or not, but it rubbed her the wrong way nonetheless.
“And you must be only the first of all the senators who wanted to meet me,” Isolde said, seeing Eleya’s lips curl.
Eren didn’t even blink an eye at the accusation. “They decided that it was better if I spoke for all of us.”
“You do not speak for all of us,” Eleya cut in. “It will be clear very soon that you do not speak for anyone but yourself.”
“The Elders will set that straight for us all,” Eren said, though Isolde noticed how he refused to look at Eleya. It hadn’t been so obvious before, but now that she knew, it was impossible not to see. Thinking of how much she longed for Diego, Isolde couldn’t help but feel a little pity for them – for both of them. If anything she’d read was even slightly true, it had to be unbearable.
“You really do believe that,” Eleya said. “You think the Elders call for war with the Galactic Union.”
“We are the Brions,” Eren said simply. “We do not shun away from war.”
It was kind of funny. Based on her knowledge, Isolde would have assumed that all Brions believed what Eren had just said. That was their reputation, at least. But not only her guards and Eleya tensed up at his words, but his generals exchanged looks as well.
The dark days, she realized. They saw the dark days speaking and thought whether he was right or mad. The moment passed and the enemy generals resumed their watchful stances.
“War,” Eleya said, her voice disdainful, “is means to an end. To protect the Brion way, to make our people great. It is not something to be desired for its own sake.”
Isolde was slowly thinking of switching her major to Brion studies. She had learned more in the past two weeks than most scholars had in years and years. Already, she could have overturned several important principles that Terra assumed about their vicious allies. It just went to show that information passed down from rumor tended to get things a bit mixed up.
Eren shrugged. “As you say. When the Elders emerge, all will be clear. And you and I will both obey whatever they say.”
“Of course I will,” Eleya said, prompting Eren to glare at her.
Then he turned to Isolde. “You must not worry, human. When the Elders confirm I was right to protect Rhea, I will make sure you are safely escorted back to Terra.”
Isolde didn’t believe him for a second. What was weirder was that she didn’t feel the temptation to. Being homesick for so long and wanting nothing more than to escape the insane mess she had somehow gotten herself into, it had boiled down to her not wanting to go home. She didn’t feel Terra’s call any more, not even Rhea’s. All she wanted was to be wherever Diego was.
“I will stay with my gerion,” she told Eren. The senator gave her the fakest consoling smile she had ever seen.
“Of course,” he said, with all the compassion of death itself. “Only he has decided to challenge the newest addition to our armies. General Crane is a formidable fighter, as is, of course, Diego. Still, I would not bet on the outcome.”
“Diego will win,” Isolde found herself saying. She did that often of late, coming to defend Diego’s honor without really planning to and knowing he didn’t need it. “He killed General Gawen, he can win against Crane as well.”
Eren nodded, but it was like someone amusing a child. “Gawen was a great fighter, indeed. But I imagine against him, Diego had a spear, did he not?”
Eleya suddenly stood very rigid. Isolde nodded carefully. “He did, yes.”
“He is good with all weapons,” Eren said, not a shred of compassion in his cold eyes as he clearly enjoyed delivering the bad news. “Which is why General Crane has chosen they will use none.”
Eleya was shaking with fury, but even Isolde knew they could do nothing to object. Challenges were fought with the weapons the challenged selected. It was Crane’s right to choose to fight unarmed, even if it was rare for the Brions to use anything other than their signature spears. Another man might have considered the implications of seeming dishonorable, but Crane had no such limitations and neither did Eren.
The senator clearly took pleasure in seeing the array of emotions passing behind Isolde’s eyes. Eleya was speechless as well. She might have guessed, but had still hoped it wouldn’t come to that. However it was already clear as day that fate did not seem to be on their side much as of late.
“Rest easily, then,” Eren said, turning away from them. “It will all be over soon. And you can go home and forget all about the Brions.”
---
They had set aside rooms for her in the senator’s palace. Despite the danger still lurking around her, although none of them were certain any more if anyone planned to harm her, Isolde had asked for privacy. Deliya and Narath had taken up their positions by her door, making it feel just a bit homey.
Homey. Isolde almost snorted at the idea that home now meant the Triumphant for her, apparently. It was amazing how quickly someone could get attached to a place they hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place. Yet she missed her room, missed Diego’s rooms, missed him.
One entire wall of her room was basically missing, with only two large pillars separating the balcony floor. There she stood, watching Briolina through the protective shield around the palace.
It was not as ugly a planet as she had imagined. Eleya had been right about that. Even the nature seemed wild, but in a way that reminded her more of untouched reservations where nature went where it wanted without anyone trying to bar its way. The capital of Briolina sparkled in the light of day, its citizens carrying on with their lives, unaware of the danger they were all in. She felt for them, now that she knew the Brions a bit better.
Yes. Eleya had been right. There was nothing wrong with Briolina itself as much as she had seen. The people seemed to be pretty much the same as on the Triumphant. No one looked at her weirdly, on the contrary, she truly seemed to be the small wonder Eleya had assured her she would be. Isolde longed to explore the planet further. With Diego at her arm, she could go anywhere, press her lips to his when no one was looking, have him take her under the immense colorful trees, scream her pleasure for the general, not caring who heard…
Isolde wondered how she had missed the moment when she had lost the fight with herself.
She guessed it had been Eleya. Something about the way the senator had phrased the whole question had made her realize she had misunderstood all of them. When they had kept telling her that any Brion woman would have been overjoyed to have Diego for a gerion, Isolde had assumed they meant she should have been publicly drooling all over him and jumping out of her skin for a famous general. Partly true, but not entirely so.
What they had meant, but it only occurred to Isolde when Eleya said it, was that it could have been so much worse. The binding was sacred to the Brions. Damn
oversimplifying and all that, but she had never thought of what kind of a terror it was to the Brions themselves. All the galaxy heard was that it was the Brion way and the binding always made the couple happy and they were meant for each other. Isolde had thought there was something wrong with her, that the fact she wasn’t losing her mind in thankfulness meant that perhaps the bond, or she, was somehow flawed.
It made sense, especially to an ethnographer, that the Brions would deny and hide the more complicated versions of the binding. Would deny that fate didn’t always make everything easy. It was logical to hide something they had to have been afraid of themselves, if Brions even felt fear. Eleya had spoken of praying.
Isolde couldn’t imagine sitting and waiting for her fated to come and claim her only to find he was nothing like she’d wanted him to be. With a moment to sit and gather her thoughts that had been running all over the place, Isolde finally felt like she was on the same page with them.
They hadn’t meant “oh look at that hunk of a man, don’t you want to climb that like a tree”.
All true. And she did.
They had rather meant “Diego is a good match”. Not just for having the body of a Greek god and a voice that made Isolde’s legs tremble and eyes that made her forget her own name.
Also true.
It could simply have been… so much worse. So there Isolde was, the gesha to a man who was not only gorgeous on a level that bordered on ridiculous, but who also adored her completely and was willing to fight for what was right.
Which raised the question of why exactly was she still saying no? All her life she hadn’t really wanted anything with a passion, had always been lukewarm to any of the options. Now she had something she wanted so much it hurt, when it could have hurt in so much better ways – when it could have been the sweet, ecstatic pain of being filled with a cock that huge, having Diego all to herself and not coming out of the bedroom for weeks to make up the time they’d lost.
Having her general fuck her until she couldn’t walk and then simply being with him. That was the pain she wanted, not ripping her mind in two by trying to refuse something she wanted more than anything. It wasn’t merely physical either. Diego called to her, in his entirety. They were one.