My Broken Goddess, part 2

[sav8801]

Title: My Broken Goddess
Author: P-L
Word count:11,629
Fandom: The Hollows, AKA the Rachel Morgan Series, Skimmer/Ivy
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Those characters belong to Kim Harrison.  I'm just having a little fun with them.
Summary: After the events of EWWBD, Ivy decides to surprise Skimmer, but over the course of a quiet evening, recent events are brought into the open.


They were faded through surgery, but I could still see in my mind, with painful clarity, how they were inflicted. I’d never felt anything like this; never seen such a single minded devotion to the infliction of gratuitous pain on another, such a corruption of what could, and should, be a beautiful sharing of two beings. What I thought at first sight was a trio of close scars was in fact a single, continuous rend, left where the biter had ripped at the pale flesh, savagely, like an animal, to the point where no amount of vampire saliva could ever take the pain away.  It was such a messy, ugly scar, and it told a story of pain, degradation, horror...

Rape, I realised with a start. No one would ever submit willingly to such a blood encounter. And it killed me to feel them under my lips, marring, tainting Ivy like that, knowing that the bastard who hurt her was undoubtedly the one I was working to set free. No one else in this city would dare.

Ivy, sensing my anger and sorrow pulled me away from her neck so she could look at me. “Ivy...” I whimpered, her face blurring when tears welled up in my eyes. She silenced me with a soft finger on my lips, and carefully wiped away the moisture from my eyes. “What happened?” I asked, snatching her hand away from my face, more jerkily than I intended, but I already knew the answer. “He did this, didn’t he?”

God, I was a fool to not have seen it. She told me, time and again over the years, that she didn’t want to be Piscary’s scion, and now, all of a sudden, she changed her mind?    It seemed obvious now that she never wanted it, but that bastard simply forced himself upon her, as he always did. Odds are that she never wanted to break her blood fast either, but he contaminated her with his perverted hunger, making hers too much to take.

“Shh, lover. I know how you feel.” She murmured, her fingertips trailing the row of careful scars Nat had given me over the years. “If Nathalie had done this to you, I don’t know what I would have done. I think I would have flown all the way to L.A. and found a way to kill her.”

“You should have told me.” I shook my head angrily and pushed Ivy’s hand away, refusing her comforting touch. “It isn’t fair. It isn’t bloody hell fair!” My frustrated cry broke through my gritted teeth and echoed loudly against the high ceiling. “I was so lucky and you...” I nimbly got out from under her and sat naked at the edge of the bed, hugging my shins, shivering and dizzy from confusion and blood loss. Ivy had drained me; everything she could safely take from me, and then some, was gone.  I was in worse shape than I thought, but I refused to let it show. She didn’t need guilt right now, not over doing something that was right and beautiful, even if we got carried away. That’s all it was, and I wasn’t really hurt, but Ivy would make a big deal out of it

“You’re cold.” Ivy stated, ignoring the elephant in the room, like always. I could feel her, warm at my back, incapable of showing her pain and rage because to do so meant losing control of everything she had built around her heart to keep herself sane. My hatred grew only worse; first, he stunted her emotions, then he gave her a load of pain so great she could never get rid of? Bastard.

My fists tightened in helplessness, until I could smell my own blood flowing freshly again. I was so angry that I barely felt my fingernails cut into my palm. It took an effort of will, but I managed to loosen my hands and glanced at the small bloody crescents on my broken skin, the sight of my blood reminding me of every time Nathalie had taken blood from me, never hurting, always careful, and always consenting. Obviously, she wasn’t always gentle when she fed from me, and that was fine, but she always gave me more than she took; what was done to Ivy... nothing could ever make up for that.

“I’m fine.” I lied. Ivy made a dubious sound.  “My body’s fine, Ivy.”

“You’re not. You’re shaking.” Her warm, soft hands ran over my arms and my shoulders, rubbing some warmth into my depleted body. I could only hug myself tighter and try not to scream. Caring. Sweet. Wonderful. And made to suffer forever. She deserved so much better than this.

“I knew you were his scion, but you should have told me he...” I caught myself before I said “rape”, but I couldn’t keep the reproach out of my voice. Whether that reproach was aimed at me or at her was a different story. “You should have told me he hurt you. I never would have agreed to come here. He should rot.” I seethed. “No, he should burn in hell where he belongs, but I’ll settle for letting him rot in jail for the next few centuries.”

“I know.” She agreed quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I dealt with it. It isn’t that bad, most days.” Carefully controlled, neutral voice...  I knew her well enough to know she was probably lying.

“Like hell you did.” I whispered, calling her out on her lie. “You never deal with pain, you just bury it and pretend it isn’t there.” A flame was starting to burn me from the depths of my soul, cold as steel on a winter night, all consuming as the sun. A need for bloody revenge, to cleanse what was done to my loved one in crimson. “I’ll kill him. I swear to you, I’ll kill him for this.”

“You can’t. You know you can’t.” Her voice was half soothing, half chiding, as if she were talking to an upset child, accompanied by soft lips on my shoulder and a warm embrace that stifled my shivers. “You’re not strong enough. Not even the two of us would be enough.”

“I don’t need a gun to kill him. I don’t need a stake, hell, I don’t even need to raise a finger. I have the law, Ivy, and I can make it say whatever the hell I want.” My eyes narrowed as the gears started spinning in my head. “I can get him sent to death row.”

“No!” Ivy shouted, with real panic this time. “Even if you succeed, you know what will happen. You’ll be shunned and thrown to the wolves. Dorothy, please listen to me.” Her grip on me tightened. Her pheromones were thickening, and mental fingers were starting to thread through my mind, shaping my thoughts into what she wanted them to be. She was bespelling me, using Piscary’s power to reinforce her own, and I started to panic even as a deep sense of bliss took root. If she were any other living vampire, I would only have to shake my head or pinch myself, and I would be able to think clearly again, but she was too strong now. I was trapped, and unless I did something, she would enthral me. I might very well be back in California when I woke up again; I wouldn’t put it past Ivy to go that far to protect me.

“S-stop it!” I protested and tried to get away, but I was already partly under her control and couldn’t bring all of my strength to bear. I might as well try to bend a steel beam, because Ivy wouldn’t budge.  My will was slowly being overtaken by hers, the potent pheromones she pumped in the air weakening it even further, until it was hard to just remember what she was trying to do, and why I was fighting something that felt this good.

Remember what I taught you. Nathalie’s melodious voice echoed through my mind, breaking through my panic. It was a memory of her from years ago, of her walking me through the steps of resisting her bespelling, what she had deemed a helpful skill for her favourite lawyer to have. Empty your lungs as much as you can, and still your breathing. Focus on your own heartbeat. Create a blank slate in your mind. The only thing left in your head now is what I put there. Can you sense it? My influence on you? Don’t try and pit your will against it. You will only entangle yourself deeper if you do. Create a new thought, even a simple idea, and anchor yourself with it. Rebuild a part of your reality around this one thought that is truly yours, and you will be freed.

Get away. Get away. I thought over and over again, rebuilding from memory the room that surrounded me, the feel of Ivy pressed against me. She was trying to instil a sense of calm and passiveness in me that my impulse to flee had to war with, but I managed to disentangle myself from her will. Putting every ounce of strength I had into the motion, I shoved Ivy off, sending her flying a few feet away, and planted my feet on the floor, remembering too late that a considerable amount of my blood was no longer in my veins but inside of her; the sudden effort made vertigo spin the room around, and the floor slip out from under me. I crashed, painfully, my breath whooshing out of me, and before I could even figure which way was up, Ivy had pounced on my back, pinning me to the floor.

Stupid, stupid, stupid... Flee? Nice going. Of course, that one had tripped her instincts. But you try to break a supposedly unbreakable mental grip, see if you have any more luck...

For half a heartbeat, the restriction of my movements was unbearable to the part of me controlled by my instincts. Every fibre of my being demanded that I move, and I tensed to struggle, but just as I reined the useless, dangerous impulse in, Ivy shouted.

“Skimmer, I’ll kill you!” It wasn’t a threat, it wasn’t a warning. She was simply begging me not to move, her terror at what she would do rising cloyingly in the air. “I’m sorry.”   She panted. “I won’t try to bespell you again, I promise, just... please, calm down.”

What the hell...? How can she be warning me if she’s losing it? I wondered, confused. If she was acting on reflexes and instinct, she shouldn’t be able to form this kind of thoughts... I filed that away to ponder it later.

“I won’t struggle anymore.” I promised once Ivy’s breathing calmed and the tension in her arms loosened a fraction. “Let go of me.”

“I will.” She croaked hoarsely. “But I want your word that you won’t go through with it. Skimmer, honey, please, it’s not worth it. I would rip Piscary apart myself for what he did to me, but if you do this...” She sniffled. I could feel her tears falling on my bare back. “What he did to me will look like heaven next to what awaits you. I won’t allow it. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Her voice went from trembling to broken as she spoke, and my lingering anger was doused in her sobs.

“Ivy...” I began, but she cut me off, loud and wailing.

“Promise me!”

“I don’t know what to do.” I swallowed softly, the admittance of helplessness feeling as good as stabbing myself in the gut and twisting the knife. I had always walked through my life with a certainty of purpose, and now, for the first time, I saw no good options. Free Piscary, when all I wanted was to kill him slow and painful? Yeah, that would work. Arrange for him to be killed via legal means? I’d be kicked out of this camarilla, left masterless and at the (lack of) mercy of any undead who wanted my blood or my body. Turn tail and go home? That meant leaving Ivy here with that monster, and break off the truce between Nathalie and Piscary, possibly putting her in danger. “Should I stay? Should I go back to Nathalie? Tell me what to do, please!” I pleaded, but Ivy had no answer for me.

She finally pushed off me, pulling me up with her, and sat cross legged at the foot of the bed with me on her lap. We cried together for a while, just letting everything she’d buried in her shame and never faced come out. Sometimes, loving someone means staying silent and letting them cry on your shoulder, without judging them, and that’s exactly what I did.

“I want you to stay.” She murmured eventually, her voice quivering with emotion, after a long moment spent with her face buried in my hair, breathing in my scent. “Do what you have to, but I need you. I’ll deal with him. I’ll find a way to protect everyone from him, but please, don’t leave me again. Seeing you again... it brought everything back. I haven’t felt this good once in the past three years. I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t think I can anymore.” She looked at me, her pupil black eyes red and puffy with emotion and vulnerability where mine had already constricted back to their normal blue.

Fragile and strong, vulnerable and indestructible... Ivy. I nodded in acceptance, my throat too tight for speech. Nathalie and I had all of undeath to be together; the choice was easy. Ivy desperately needed me here and now. I would stay.

We stayed like this, in silence, for a long time, her hand stroking my hair, her body wrapping me in what warmth it could spare to make up for my blood it took, mine providing her with the certainty she needed. I tried to relax, to pretend the revelation of her rape didn’t change anything, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t just let go into the darkness that clawed at the edge of my consciousness, to sleep and recover, knowing that when I woke up, I’d see those ugly scars on Ivy’s neck. I wanted to erase them; I truly wanted to reach into her and rip the pain from her heart, but that would take time. I could, however, erase those scars, or at least claim them as mine...

“Ivy... I’d like to do something for you. About this.” I asked finally, pulling Ivy’s hair out off the way to expose the long length of her neck. I traced the contours of the old wound with one finger, making my intention clear, and brought my lips to it once she nodded in agreement. I muzzled her affectionately, keeping my temper in check this time, until the dormant saliva in her was alive and she was warmed up and ready for me.

You’re not doing this for blood. I had to remind myself as my fangs carefully broke her silky skin and warm, sweet blood flooded my mouth. As unbelievable as it could be to drink from Nathalie, undead blood couldn’t match living blood in terms of flavour, and even amongst living vamps, Ivy’s blood was particularly delicious. It made things even more difficult.

I had to bite her to help the scars fade, but only so I could get as much of my saliva in her as I could. Its healing properties would do the job. The problem with that plan was that vampires aren’t meant to stay unfazed and immobile when warm, living blood pours into their mouth; every instinct I had screamed at me to pull on the wound and swallow the sweetness that poured out, but I couldn’t abandon myself to them and sate my hunger. Doing so would draw a good deal of my saliva back into my mouth instead of letting it soak into the surrounding tissues. Worst, the marks on her skin encompassed a broad expense of it, at least four times more than what my mouth could cover. Tearing my teeth out of her neck only to sink them back in felt like I was ripping at my very soul. Every fibre of muscle in me screamed in agony with the tremendous effort required, punishing me for trying to deny what I was, what I needed when it was within such easy reach, but I wouldn’t give up. I plunged my teeth in her again and again, always struggling against the increasingly savage need that twisted my guts and sliced my brain to white hot pieces, but still I refused. This pain was nothing. I had chosen this pain, whereas Ivy had it forced on her, and the thought of her was enough to keep me going. I was better than Piscary, and she was too; we could do this together.

Do you feel this, you bastard? That’s me, taking your claim off her. Bet it’s killing you, uh? I goaded in my head, wishing he could hear me. He was probably watching us through the bond he shared with Ivy. I hoped he was, even though I might die of embarrassment were I more than semi-conscious, and that he was popping a vein in anger.

Finally, only one bite was remaining. I let my saliva soak in as I had done several times already, my entire sweat-drenched body too weak to hold itself upright on its own by then. Ivy had to clutch me to her chest until I pulled my teeth out one last time, my tears of exhaustion mixing with the blood that dripped from her neck. Stubbornly, I kept licking the rapidly healing wounds, adding a little more to them, just in case, but it was unnecessary. Her skin was knitting itself back together, unblemished this time, well enough on its own, and I sagged against her shoulder, exhaling slowly. I was bone tired, my stomach was growling, my entire body was wracked with breath-stealing cramps, and I couldn’t help but smile. I had never felt such a sense of achievement in my life. Maybe this was what Ivy had gotten got from those years without practicing...

“Are you okay?” Ivy asked quietly, her hands cradling my face the only thing that held it upright. Ivy pushed a damp tendril of hair away from my face, and kissed me very gently. I was trembling so badly that she almost missed, but I managed to hold my body steady for a moment. “Thank you.” She whispered, her voice raw with emotion. “I... thank you for this.”

“Just tuck me in and I’ll consider us even. That bed is awfully high.” I croaked with dark humour. For the moment, I didn’t want anything but sleep for a long while with her spooned behind me.

“No.” She answered.

Before I could ask “no what?”, she had me, once again, scooped up and carried me away, into the bathroom this time. The light seemed awfully bright to my fully dilated eyes, shining around the white tile, shiny porcelain and stainless steel. Ivy carefully settled me into the enormous bathtub in the corner, kissed my forehead and whispered “I’ll be right back” before stepping out faster than I thought possible. She was back in a flash, carrying a large black duffel bag that she dropped on the floor.

“You packed an overnight bag...” I observed, the pinnacle of sharpness and wit, my voice even more ragged than I thought it would be, but I was happy even if it hurt to speak. She had meant to spend the week-end, not just the night, and it warmed me.

“Yes.” She answered. “It’s a good thing I did, too. It looks like I get to play nurse for the next few days.” She didn’t look all that unhappy about it, to be honest.

She didn’t have to rummage through it to find what she was looking for; it was neatly organised, containing clean clothes, a vial of grey powder, a clear plastic container filled with what looked like cakes, and that I recognised as brimstone-laced cookies, a pouch of scented bubble bath that was even more potent than the brimstone... everything she needed to spend the week-end with me was in there.

My wonderful obsessive planner. Don’t ever change. I sighed fondly as she fiddled with the water flow, adjusted the temperature to be just right, which meant really very hot, and poured a fair amount of that special herbal bubble bath in the water. The combination of ingredients in it made it the vampire equivalent of bane, the stuff weres chewed on to get high during their change and lessen their pain and reduce their recovery’s length once they changed back. It felt almost sinful to lay in the scalding water while it went to work on me. The painful soreness in my limbs eased up, and I breathed in relief, letting myself doze off a little.

It was late, I was drained, so I had excuses not to see a very naked Ivy enter the water with me. Her raven-coloured hair was hastily pulled up from her neck, a few loose strands that still managed to look artful framing her face. Her eyes were totally brown, and totally devoid of hunger; I was injured now, a turn off for her already sated bloodlust, and an intense feeling of security and contentment filled me even as she closed in on me. It’s in our instincts to feel compassion for the injured and protect them; even dead vamps felt it. We make great nannies, too, but don’t spread it around. Vampires have a reputation to live up to, after all... but in any case, I knew I would be safe with her around.

“Promise me you won’t let me get carried away like that again...” She asked, her hand on my neck where she sensed my pulse, her eyes darkening as she felt its sluggishness. “I know we both enjoyed it, but I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You didn’t hurt me... Fine.” I submitted under her glare. “I will if you promise not to keep everything inside all the time.” I shot back. “You said earlier that I’m your girlfriend. Promise you’ll let me be your girlfriend from now on.”

“Deal.”

My hand rose to her neck, and I smiled at the feel of the raw but otherwise pristine skin left where I had bitten her. It worked perfectly. My hand fell from her and splashed into the water through a thick layer of bubbles that, sadly, blocked my view of Ivy’s body.

We took the bath together, silently, letting our bodies speak. She helped me clean up more than I really needed, using scrubbing me as an excuse for touching me, as if she really needed one. Our time was filled with soft kisses and tender touches, hugs and caresses and long glances into each other’s eyes. She massaged the tension in my body into submission, washed my hair, and by the time we drained the water and she wrapped me in my robe, the same one she wore to ambush me half a lifetime ago, I felt a little more alive. Unfortunately, so did my mostly empty stomach...

“Sorry.” I winced at a particularly loud growling in my abdomen, my arms wrapping around it as if that would stifle it. I blushed, a little embarrassed by Ivy’s knowing smirk.

“It’s okay.” She was still smirking innocently. “I think we skipped dinner. Go to bed and relax. I’ll fix us right up.”

“Dinner in bed, uh? Are you sure you can handle making sandwiches on your own?” I teased her, and winked when she leered at me so she knew that I loved having her take care of me and appreciated it.

“It’s a surprise.” She answered mysteriously.

“Another one? Aren’t I the lucky girl...” I rose on my toes so I could kiss her right behind the ear. “I love you. Even if your surprise is a grilled ham and cheese sandwich.” That got me a solid slap on the thigh, but we were laughing seconds later.

“I love you too.”

We parted, and I stared at her ass as she made her way to the kitchen. She looked like a negative image of me; light hair and tanned skin for me, dark hair and pale skin for her, hell, even our attire played the same game, black, form fitting silk robe for her, white, fluffy cotton robe for me. I loved it, loved our contrasts, the way she completed me so wonderfully, and even though the price for staying with her disgusted me, I didn’t feel like I made a mistake.

I slid into the blankets covering my bed, enjoying the coolness of the sheets against my bare legs, and settled myself against the head board with a pillow at my back. This morning could have gone better, but the conclusion satisfied me, with the exception of one little detail; the fact that she had cried out, warning me not to move when she pounced on me. Benign at first sight, it still bothered me a great deal. She was supposed to be controlled by her instincts by then, but she still had the presence of mind to warn me? It didn’t make sense. If she were that conscious, she would have remembered that I knew the rules. If anything, her cry might have made me panic and made everything worse.

Maybe she wasn’t conscious at all. Maybe it was a reflex. But that suggested that she developed such a reflex, and the only explanation I could see for that was that she was constantly exposed to someone who didn’t know the rules, who couldn’t balance her out when her control was strained and needed to be told what to do... someone like a redheaded witch dumb enough to get herself broken without having a vampire to protect her.

They’re not sharing blood, nor sleeping together, but Ivy *likes* her enough to protect her without any kind of payoff, either sexual or blood. It made sense. It might be that she had adapted that way for the damn witch, and if she had, it really bothered me. It was a minor change, but with Ivy’s loathing of her vampire nature, it might be symptomatic of something more...

Something worse. Like, say, trying to fit what Rachel Morgan believed to be right instead of accepting what she is, and how right that is. If they weren’t sharing blood or sleeping together, that could be a lot of change, change Ivy didn’t need. It was enough to make me hate the pretty witch.

I was jostled from my thoughts by Ivy’s entrance into the bedroom, a tray of food and one of drinks carefully balanced in her arms. The two plates she carried were filled with vegetables and generous pieces of chicken, the dish still sizzling from the pan, the spicy scent of curry coming off them making my mouth water. A carton of milk and a pair of glasses stood on the second tray, accompanied by a pair of brimstone cookies.

“There you go. Do you want a fork or are you okay with chopsticks?” She asked, settling a plate on one of those tray used for breakfast in bed that she produced from behind the headboard.

“I’ll take the fork, thanks. I still don’t have the hang of chopsticks. Mm, that looks great.” I said, turning my attention to the food and bringing a mouthful of veggies and meat to my mouth. I chewed slowly, making appreciative sounds. “Tastes great too.”

The vegetables were crunchy, cooked to perfection, the meat was tender and juicy and there was just the right amount of spice. We ate together in bed, making light conversation, like the reunited lovers we were. We had loads to catch up on, and by the time I finished the last crumbs of cookies, drained my milk and watched her put everything away, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. In winter, it translated into an ungodly hour, but it was Saturday. Neither of us had to get up to go to work.

“I never returned the favour earlier.” I offered a little guiltily as Ivy slipped beneath the covers. “I don’t think we can get the same mood flowing, but I can make an effort if you’d like.”

Ivy shook her head and inched closer to me, a hint of a smile on her lips. “It’s okay. I’m still tingling all over from all the saliva you pumped into me.” Her neck looked healed, barely even a hint of red was left. Even the perfectly clean bite mark she left on me looked worse.

Satisfied that the bites would tide her over for the moment, and after making a mental note to service her to the best of my abilities, I turned around so she could pull me into her. “Sweet dreams, Sweets.”  I said, my voice slurring a little with fatigue, once we were comfortably spooned together.

“You too, Skimmer.”

I’m going to get you out, Piscary. I swore as darkness began to overrun my mind. You can have Kisten, or even that idiot witch who doesn’t know what she’s missing, I don’t care, but Ivy’s mine. She’s my broken goddess, and if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make her whole again. I’ll kill you if you ever lay another finger on her.

With that final promise made, with Ivy at my back, I slowly drifted off to sleep. I’d do all that, just... tomorrow.