Lessons of a Viper (Vale)

Not the best piece I've written, but you know those times wherein surprising things in RP happen very fast, and writing out your character's reaction can help you make sense of it all? That's what this was, so it's all a little jumbled. Still, I hope it's interesting!

And some music for you, to set the scene -- Emancipator, 'Eve'

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'Lessons of a Viper'

Vale awoke from dreams of a roaring sea, and of a wave that swelled and grew until it towered above the shore like a giant claw. She, standing ankle deep in the surf, had had been fixed in time, staring up at the wave, knowing that in the next moment it would fall and come crashing over her with a sound and a fury, crushing her ribs into her lungs without mercy...

Ragged breathing escaped her chest, and she lay still for a moment amidst the silks of her couch. Last night, she had stood on a Tanarisi shore, her toes pressed into the damp sands above the tide pools, and she had faced a familiar figure; one with eyes even colder than her own.

It had been no lover's quarrel. There might have been death, had either raised their hands to draw on their magics, but instead they had been a pair of serpents, circling each other in a glittering dance. She struck first, and then venom had flowed freely; each knew the other well enough to know their weak points, what words to use to sink in the sharpened fangs.

As the memory washed over her, Vale turned her eyes to the velvet canopy above her and let her breathing slow. Shafts of moonlight filtered through the narrow stone window, but tonight she found no comfort in the embrace of the shadows, and her back and her breasts were chill with sweat. She was a Caan, and always she had understood the intent to kill, always she had turned her hand to the knife - but this was different.

The fel energies that she had drawn from the voidwalker still flowed through her veins, giving her power, but she had not yet managed to subdue them with the strength of her shadow. In her dreams she could hear whispers, taunting her, driving her back one moment and then pushing her to the brink of the vast unknown. And always, she could feel the demon's power rising in her pounding heart, threatening to burst through the vessels beneath her skin, driving her to kill-- and in those moments she could taste the blood. She saw sinews being ripped from bone, saw her own hands clawing and rending apart the muscles from the flesh, and the shrieks of the dying were as soft as harp-music.

Vale turned her face to her pillow and wrapped her arms around the smooth cloth, shuddering. She knew that part of herself; it slept beneath her beating heart where she had imprisoned it. In the forest, where she had needed every trick to fight for her own survival, she had wrapped herself in anger; in the company of her old master, when she had studied the secrets of the shadow and the mind, she had draped herself in cruelty. But here, among the fragility of the world beyond her clan, it was so easy to slash through the webs of human relationships with a single mistake. That thirst to possess - not only goods but minds and hearts - was ruinous, if she wished to allow herself to care about the welfare of anyone besides herself.

Perhaps last night, even though in the final moments he had asked forgiveness for his bitter words, Garthen had realised the truth of them. Viper of a woman... your own comfort... you expect me to bow and say, 'Yes, mistress?'... wasted my time in thinking that someone like you...

I never asked you for anything, she had said. And I never made you any promises.

But it was true that she had taken from him in every moment; that she had unravelled the bonds of his company, his resources, his good will, and had spun them together into the tapestry of her own comfort and security. Every advantage that she had seen, she had taken, making no promises and leaving no regrets in her wake. And suddenly, the words came back to her from old dreams, from the voices and the ghosts of her blood:

You are a Caan, Vale. You destroy everything you touch.

How long had she fought against those voices, thrown them back into the faces of the shades who had mocked her? But if she could not even conquer the power of the demon whose essence she had drained and made her own, then they were right in their derision.

With bile rising in her throat, she turned over again, and her eyes fell across the sleeping form of the man beside her. This was the only time he ever seemed at peace; at those times when he slept and was not gripped by his own nightmares. Those rare nights... Sometimes she had lain in his arms, a smile fleeting across her lips at the strange irony of finding a few scraps of contentment.

Vale took a deep breath as the watery light in the room faltered, as if a cloud had fluttered past the moon. How could she stay here, at the risk of rending apart what she had formed in the past weeks here in Dalaran? And at the risk of twisting every word spoken in the golden forest, at the snowy hotsprings, among the ash and the ice and the fires of hell, into nothing but a web of lies.

This battle was hers and hers alone; the struggle last night on the shore had proven to her that she had grasped enough, and that she had thrown herself against the bars of his patience one time too many. This battle was hers, but whether it would be a fight against the demonic power alone - or against herself also - remained to be seen.

Pushing back the silken coverlet, Vale rose and reached for the gown that hung askew over the back of the ornate teak chair where she had flung it. As the shimmering cloth slipped through her fingers, she cast a glance over her shoulder once again. She would leave him a letter, explain...

And there was a glimmer of a chance that if she could conquer herself and the fel that she had bound to her, if she could return from the forest and the ashes, then she might have a chance to repair the frayed threads that had been broken.