Volker tried to sleep. He really did. He balled up under the covers and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept in an actual bed in decades, and he had only crawled into it in the vain hope Orion would join him. He covered his face with his hands and dug his fingernails into his forehead. What was wrong with him? He felt like a child; all he wanted was strong arms around him telling him he hadn’t done something foolish angering his master over a pretty face.
He silently got up off the bed, taking a blanket, and slid under it. It was how he normally slept at home, and the strong boards against his shoulder made him feel more protected. He still curled up under the blanket. Volker closed his eyes, and entered the Well.
“If you’re done being pathetic there’s someone here to see you.” Nestor told him boredly from a position on the floor, pouring over his notes.
Volker noticed it immediately...the door was open. The door to the office. He stepped cautiously toward it, and found he could put a foot over the threshold. That meant one thing; Oor was here.
Rheinhard. Come in here and close the door behind you. Oor’s voice sounded...neutral. Not disappointed, but not angry. Volker obeyed, and shut the door behind him. The office of the Well was unlike any other. It was meant to reflect Oor’s office in Witherhold; plush black furniture, a fire crackling away in the hearth, bookshelves and a wide ironwood desk. Oor was seated behind it, with large shards of mirror settled in front of him. Memories.
Rheinhard...this really is a disappointing escape attempt. A man you find attractive asks you to leave with him, and for some reason he doesn’t find your ways repulsive...so you get attached? Oor raised an eyebrow. I’ve seen your memories of him. He isn’t interested. Clearly. He’s being polite in his rejection, and perhaps still wants you as a friend, but that other ship has sailed. You are alone, and will always be alone. Even when you were his age and with less...cosmetic damage, it wouldn’t have happened. You just aren’t desirable. By anyone. You were bred for killing, and that’s all you’ll ever be.
The wraith stood up and walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. I know what you were thinking. Run away with him, escape me, forge a new and quiet life with someone who loves you. But that isn’t for you. It’s not for Klaus, or Aluid, or Huron, or any of the men who came before them. You are a tool, and that is all you will ever be. I thought I’d bred this sort of pathetic emotional need out, but it pops up now and then.
Volker looked down, and blinked away tears. Oor rubbed one away with his thumb. Leave quietly, and return to me. I think we’ve had enough vacation for a month or six. And Volker? That hand turned cruel, digging a thumb into the sensitive area just below his eye. Don’t make me regret this long leash you have.
Volker drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes. He was still under the bed...and it was morning.
Orion
He silently got up off the bed, taking a blanket, and slid under it. It was how he normally slept at home, and the strong boards against his shoulder made him feel more protected. He still curled up under the blanket. Volker closed his eyes, and entered the Well.
“If you’re done being pathetic there’s someone here to see you.” Nestor told him boredly from a position on the floor, pouring over his notes.
Volker noticed it immediately...the door was open. The door to the office. He stepped cautiously toward it, and found he could put a foot over the threshold. That meant one thing; Oor was here.
Rheinhard. Come in here and close the door behind you. Oor’s voice sounded...neutral. Not disappointed, but not angry. Volker obeyed, and shut the door behind him. The office of the Well was unlike any other. It was meant to reflect Oor’s office in Witherhold; plush black furniture, a fire crackling away in the hearth, bookshelves and a wide ironwood desk. Oor was seated behind it, with large shards of mirror settled in front of him. Memories.
Rheinhard...this really is a disappointing escape attempt. A man you find attractive asks you to leave with him, and for some reason he doesn’t find your ways repulsive...so you get attached? Oor raised an eyebrow. I’ve seen your memories of him. He isn’t interested. Clearly. He’s being polite in his rejection, and perhaps still wants you as a friend, but that other ship has sailed. You are alone, and will always be alone. Even when you were his age and with less...cosmetic damage, it wouldn’t have happened. You just aren’t desirable. By anyone. You were bred for killing, and that’s all you’ll ever be.
The wraith stood up and walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. I know what you were thinking. Run away with him, escape me, forge a new and quiet life with someone who loves you. But that isn’t for you. It’s not for Klaus, or Aluid, or Huron, or any of the men who came before them. You are a tool, and that is all you will ever be. I thought I’d bred this sort of pathetic emotional need out, but it pops up now and then.
Volker looked down, and blinked away tears. Oor rubbed one away with his thumb. Leave quietly, and return to me. I think we’ve had enough vacation for a month or six. And Volker? That hand turned cruel, digging a thumb into the sensitive area just below his eye. Don’t make me regret this long leash you have.
Volker drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes. He was still under the bed...and it was morning.
Orion