Tempered by the Will

9 - Amends

 "Felix Aventine is a duke."

"I got that part," said Vica. "You need to tell me things I don't already know." Her voice was sharp, well past the border of unfriendliness although she kept it cold and impassive enough to hold this conversation. It was important. Maybe she didn't have the time or patience for his mood swings and tantrums anymore, but she needed the information he possessed.

If he didn't cooperate at least in that respect, then he was useless to her. All he was good for was tormenting her if that was the case, and she was done with that, too.

"I'm saying that he has no reason to fix a system that's already skewed in his favor," Constantine said after a pause. "He's a mage. The Capital caters to mages. Strong ones, with bloodline, which he both is and has."

"And you don't think maybe he just has a conscience?" She straightened her legs, letting the warm water splash lightly against the sides of the porcelain tub. "Not everyone's only out for themselves."

"Then why's he sitting at the top of the system right now? Don't ignore common sense just to spite me."

"Don't talk to me about spite," she snapped, and her grip tightened around the edge of the tub. "Tell me about the Resistance."

"It's not unified, which is why it'll never work. There are two main factions, one that just wants to shake the system, and one that wants to dismantle it completely. They're supposed to be on the same side but they'd just as soon kill each other if they get the chance."

"Which faction is which?"

"Felix belongs to the first. Mostly a union of mages, usually the dissatisfied, low-class ones. The second faction, that's Yezia and Yowan's turf. Most of the Resistants pledge their loyalty to that cause, and so do a lot of the non-magic endowed citizens who don't trust mages anymore. Felix's faction supposedly wants a society where everyone is...more equal. Yezia's just wants to do away with mages altogether. Can't have a repeat problem if you get rid of the source."

Vica's gaze darted to the back of Constantine's head. He was still turned away from her - she couldn't see his expression at all.

"Do away?" she repeated. "You mean -"

"Yes. Kill, or seal. Maybe with a few exceptions if they think they can control them."

"Yezia wanted to kill me?"

"When you were useful, no, but naturally, the question would have come up if you'd stayed with them. Vica, this is not your world. People can be allies one night and wake up with their throat slits for having lingered too long. Why do you think I didn't trust any of them alone with you, even when they said they just wanted to get you away from the Order?"

"Because you wanted your money, apparently."

He didn't respond for a moment, and she glared at the back of his head as she waited for him to say something. Would he dare argue the point? Her skin thrummed with pent up frustration and anger at everything he had said and done to her since that night on the hill. She had already done more than her part - had forgiven him every injury, forgotten every slight. She hadn't owed him any of that, and she certainly didn't owe him anything now.

She watched as he turned his head slightly, and a flash of yellow revealed that he was now staring at her out of the corner of his eye. Go ahead, she thought. Say something. Let's see what you have to say.

"You know damn well it wasn't about money."

"Right. For the thrills, then."

"Vica -"

"You're really shameless, you know that?" She pulled her hand away from the tub's edge, unwilling even to tolerate the closeness of his shoulder. Fury bubbled up like boiling magma inside her. "Sitting here, lecturing me. Are we supposed to be friends again? And I'm, what, supposed to let it go? I'm not your prisoner anymore. I don't have to do anything you say. Not unless I want to."

"What do you want me to say, then. You walked in here knowing that it'll kill you. You don't think I'm going to have an opinion on it?"

Another splash, as she hit the side of her fist against the inner wall of the tub above the water. "An opinion? Don't try to play dumb. I couldn't care less what you want me to do, run or stay. Our problem - your problem, is that after everything, you tried to hurt me for it."

"I didn't -"

"Yes, you did. We have s*x a couple times and you decide you want to use that against me? All because you couldn't change my mind and get your way." She scoffed, leaned back in the tub, and looked up at the ceiling. "I knew it was a bad idea, though. It's no use blaming you since that doesn't help me, so all I can do is regret it."

He twisted at the waist to look at her over his shoulder then. "Don't," he said. "It wasn't just me. You -"

"You shouldn't have," she snapped. "If you were going to use it against me, you should never have touched me. I don't care what your excuses are. You kidnapped me, dragged me hundreds of miles from where I was. And not that I expected someone like you to make amends, but you shouldn't forget that the first time I was introduced to your charms, it wasn't by my choice."

He froze. And although she was still burning with all the unresolved anger that she had kept buried all this time for the sake of what peace she could salvage, she found a cold satisfaction in how he reacted. She turned her head to meet his stare more fully.

"What?" she asked. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you going to say something like, you weren't actually inside me, so it doesn't count? It does. It does count, and I hated you for it. And now that I'm thinking more clearly, I realize I still do. I'd say you have no idea how unbelievable it is that I ever tolerated you and everything you did to me, but I know you do. You just ignore it since you already got what you wanted."

He didn't say anything for a tense, strained moment, but his eyes burned bright and molten as he stared at her. Finally, he opened his mouth and took in a sharp breath before giving his reply.

"I didn't get what I wanted," he said. "You're here. I wanted us to leave."

"That's not a choice you get to make for me. You took enough of those from me already."

"What do I say, then? I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I wanted to hurt you then, that I meant to. I'm sorry that I can't make it right. But getting yourself killed here doesn't fix it, either."

"That was really convincing," she said. "But you're wrong if you think I came here to spite you. You're still not seeing the point. Not everything is about you. Not everything I do is to please or spite you. I'm here because I want to be, and because I need to be, and it has a lot less to do with you than you seem to want. But you need to come to terms with it one way or another, because I'm not changing my mind for you. Not even if you mock me a thousand times more about how you f****d me and -"

"Stop it."

"Why?" she challenged. "Does it bother you? Does it hurt you? I don't think it really does."

"Vica -"

"No. Don't." She held up her hand between them as if to ward him off and looked away, closing her eyes. "I'm tired of it. You get to say everything you want to say -"

"I don't. f**k, I don't." He pushed her hand down, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and holding it down when she tried to throw him off. "I don't say half the things I should, either, but - Vica! Listen to me."

She laughed. Listen to him, he said, as if she hadn't had to hear every hurtful thing he snarled at her these last two weeks. As if they hadn't fought night after night even when she tried to reconcile with him, as if she hadn't given more than she'd been offered.

"Listen to me," he repeated, and his grasp softened around her forearm enough for her to yank it away. He didn't break the stare, however, and she begrudgingly allowed him to speak.

If he had something useful to say, she would accept it. If not, she would throw it back in his face and tell him to keep it.

"For better or for worse, I followed you here," he said, voice quiet and smooth, almost conciliatory. "And I'm staying, because you don't know it yet, but you're in danger every moment you stay here, and there is no one you can trust."

"Maybe not you, either."

"You don't have to. I want you to, but it's not necessary for me to keep you alive."

"So, what? You're making nice now? You're going to try to patch things over with me and fight on the same side?"

"Yes. I'm trying. I want to."

She stared hard at him, wishing she could c***k him open both as a lesson in revenge as well as much-needed study into the workings of his idiotic, addled brain. "It won't be that easy," she said. She didn't bother to hide any of her anger; it didn't matter to her whether he was 'trying' or not. If he truly meant it, then he wouldn't expect or demand her forgiveness so soon.

"I know."

"You know," she mocked. "You sound so different all of a sudden. Just a few hours ago, you were singing another tune -"

"I was wrong -"

"Yes, you were -"

"- to act like that. But I'm not wrong about you throwing yourself into danger for no reason. I'll stay here for as long as you will, but I can't keep you alive forever. I don't know how else I can convince you to see that."

"Maybe keep up the good work and stop being an ass." With a shrug, she dipped lower into the tub and nodded her head at the door. "I'm finishing my bath, I don't want to hear you anymore. We'll talk later if I feel like asking you more about the Capital."

He looked like he was going to say something, and she narrowed her eyes in preparation for another argument. Of course. Why would she have thought that he'd been sincere - he was only pretending to appeal to her so that he could get his way, so that he could convince her to leave the Capital and probably reduce her to nothing more than a s****l conquest until he got bored of her. The way he'd treated her since that night on the hill - there was no way his concern for her was any more sincere than that.

Even if he thought it was, it simply wasn't.

So what would he do now? Say something cutting to enrage her? Or maybe he would wheedle her some more. Which one?

But as she waited and waited, he said nothing. Until at last, with slow movements, he pushed himself up to his feet and headed for the door.

He left in silence.