Chapter: 003 - Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Chapter: 003 - Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Location: Dark Forest

Characters: Marluxia, Zexion, Lexaeus

Rating/Warnings: NC-17/MA. Violence. Non-consensual sex. Swearing.

Summary: A full half-week has gone by without any really serious schemes or backstabbing. Naturally it was too good to last very long.

Chapter 003 : Dark Forest - Between A Rock And A Hard Place.

This certainly was a most unfortunate turn of events, Marluxia thoughtfully mused as he made his way through the forest.

Never in any possible scenario imagined during the development of his grand plan had he ever expected to find himself stranded in a gods-forsaken forest, a rainy, insect-infested gods-forsaken forest, thank you, along with his constantly squabbling former subordinates.

It had been supposed to be a point of no return. The final gamble. Death or victory; to majestically stand triumphant or go down in a blaze of glory.

Never had mosquitoes figured in his visions. He honestly felt quite cheated.

In the not-too-far distance Larxene and Vexen were having yet another loud and pointless argument, lazily cheered on by Axel and failing to be controlled by Lexaeus. He winced and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You would think after half a week out here they would have learned to channel their energy into more productive pastimes, but painfully apparently not so. Amateurs.

What the group needed, desperately needed, was a leader.

No more pointless arguments, no more pulling in different directions, no more of Lexaeus' idealistically naïve 'consensus', which never worked anyway on account of both unspoken sides consisting of three people, and disagreeing on principle.

The recent development had been completely unexpected and was nowhere near ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but despite Vexen's apparent beliefs, complaining about it would not do anything to improve it. The insufferable old idiot.

The group needed a leader, a clear course of action, and then against all odds perhaps they could actually stay alive long enough to make themselves a low-profile future elsewhere.

Work with what they had. Perhaps not a castle, servants, power enough to make a shot for omnipotence, but right at the moment the very notion of a future at all had gained quite a lot of merit in itself. At least if you considered the alternatives. Which no sane person would willingly do.

He shuddered and quickly turned his thoughts away from that particular path.

The elders were still talking about going back, as though there was anything to go back to, any chance at all for redemption. A proper leader would soon disperse any such counter-productive ideas, shape up the group, make them all understand both the gravity and potential of the current state of affairs.

Which was of course the reason he was purposefully approaching the rocky terrain upstream where Zexion had taken up what he called 'scouting for supplies' and everyone else thought of as 'sneaking off to spare himself the agony of listening through another of Vexen's and Larxene's tantrums'.

For all her venom he was quite certain he could still count the Savage Nymph as one of his most trusted allies; she was if anything even more adverse than he to the elders and the stale bureaucracy of the Organization.

Vexen… would not be a problem, not when it really mattered. He'd brought the man under his heel before, if forced to he could do it again. The prickly scientist was rash, not stupid, and the right buttons very easy to find, easier yet to push.

And Axel would come around. The fiery brute might be completely untrustworthy, but he wasn't stupid either. If kept on a short leash he could be useful.

Which left Zexion and Lexaeus. The towering earth-elemental was bound to follow wherever the shifty illusionist went, and Zexion himself was infamous for avoiding conflict whenever possible.

Hopefully it would be an easy task convincing the young man it was in his best interest to comply. And if not, well. Zexion was not known for his prowess in physical combat. One way or another, he would be persuaded.

The group desperately needed a leader.

The notion it could be possibly anyone aside from himself, the Graceful Assassin, Lord of Castle Oblivion, was simply laughable.

***

The night had been hell, with heavy clouds spewing forth a steady downpour completely drenching the forest, turning their campsite to mud and transforming every patch of leaves and twigs into slippery death-traps.

Morning had finally dawned bringing hesitant sunlight which, while preferable over the rain, had then turned the wet forest into a sticky, steaming sauna. With mosquitoes in it.

Zexion was in a foul mood indeed.

The vastly uncomfortable insight that they were stuck here had ruthlessly pressed on until it could no longer be ignored. Smacking another of the wretched flying blood-suckers against his already ant-bitten cheek he ran the problem through his head over and over again, desperately seeking an angle.

We could go back.

Back to the purity of Oblivion or sterile asceticism of The Castle That Never Was. Static and controlled environments more suited for creatures whose existence was already so fragile without brutish worldly variables threatening to unravel the delicate memories at the core of their being.

But we ran, he reluctantly conceded. We really shouldn't have done that. We should have stayed, or returned back to Never Was to report the moment things went wrong.

But we couldn't, he countered. The neophytes would never have come willingly, and no-one had been in a shape to fight right then, wrenched back from the very jaws of death on a whim by a panicking scientist.

We could have stayed put, waited the enemies out. Regained our strength before we moved. Thought before we moved.

But we didn't. We panicked, and we ran.

Xemnas wouldn't be too impressed with that explanation, he knew. Nobodies logically shouldn't even be able to feel fear. But even the lowliest of beasts had the instinct to run when in danger, didn't they? And Nobodies were thinking rational creatures.

Knowing exactly how many and how powerful the enemies were.

Damn it all.

He shifted and leaned back against the tree trunk behind him, trying to find a more comfortable position, which only served to send a shower of droplets from the wet branches above him down his neck, and he swore under his breath.

The most aggravating thing about the whole business was that he knew full well they could have prevented it all from happening before it even started. A quick word with Xemnas the moment Sora arrived and the traitor's plans had become apparent would have taken care of the whole thing.

But they hadn't had any truly solid proof, and Marluxia was offensively skilled at snaking his way out of any accusations made against him. It had been so tempting to let the fool's own hubris do the work, watch with detached glee as his plans came tumbling down to destroy him.

But no, of course Vexen couldn't have that, he just had to get involved. And then Riku had unexpectedly shown up. And the mouse-king.

And-...

" Why, good afternoon, Zexion. So this is where you have escaped to?"

Not even trying to hide his distaste he shot the tall Assassin a profoundly sour look. The bastard had no business moving so silently, nor looking so poised and graceful even when standing to his ankles in mud and drooping weeds. Maybe the filth and compost goes perfectly with his element, he thought spitefully, fully aware he was being petty.

" I have certainly not escaped anywhere," he replied. " I'm merely selective with the company I keep."

Marluxia smiled slightly and sat down by a tree next to his, and he could have sworn the roots moved slightly to make the Assassin more comfortable, well away from the mud.

" Ah. That makes two of us, then."

He refrained from even commenting on that, the slight curl to his lip proof enough that the contrived man would never be the company he willingly selected.

" What do you want, Marluxia?"

He couldn't tell why a shudder suddenly ran down his spine as deep blue eyes locked onto his own, but he did know he didn't like the sensation, nor the ghost of a smile playing over the man's lips.

" How straightforward! And here I was under the impression you were one to love little games and intricacies... Very well. I wanted to talk to you. I do believe we can help one another."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Marluxia was only ever truly pleasant when he was about to soon become unpleasant. The realization belatedly hit home that if he was far away enough from the others that he couldn't hear their screaming, that meant they couldn't hear his screams either.

" Help each other?"

" Quite. It cannot have escaped your attention how the constant arguments and petty disagreements keep us inefficiently divided and robbed of all initiative. Not to mention how it wears everyone down, sapping energy that could be put to so much better use."

Well. That almost made sense, rare enough from the arrogant former Lord of Oblivion.

" And..?" Zexion warily prompted. Marluxia made a thoughtful gesture.

" It's quite apparent what must be done. The group must be unified if we are to stand a chance. By force, if necessary. One goal, one plan. One leader."

Ah. So that was it. He caught Marluxia's sidelong glance and quickly looked away with a frown. The mere thought of handing their future over in the ruthless megalomaniac's hands was insane. Unfortunately, he suspected, so was Marluxia; insane in the dangerous, brilliant way of a snake killing for the pleasure of it.

" So you say?" he mumbled noncommittally, avoiding eye-contact. Of course he was almost certain Marluxia wouldn't dare to cause him any harm even should he openly disagree. Almost.

Better to play it safe, though. You never could tell with the man.

" Well, yes," Marluxia continued. " It's quite obvious when you stop and think about it. Which is possibly the one thing no-one has done ever since we arrived here."

The Assassin leaned back and thoughtfully studied the dripping canopy above with a thin smile.

" You are a practical, intelligent man, Zexion. Sometimes I wonder if you're not the only other sensible- or at least sane person around."

Sharp eyes ruthlessly caught his own again.

" Which is of course why I decided to come to you. Like I said, I'm certain we can help each other."

The man actually thought he would let himself be manipulated to become his puppet? Talked into supporting his foolish ambition?

" Flattered, I'm sure," he said, quite sharply, unable to help himself. " Does this mutual helpfulness by any chance boil down to me helping you declare yourself supreme prince of the forest, and you helping me to not have any unfortunate accidents of the kind that happen so easily when one is not careful?"

He stood, giving the sitting man a cool stare down his nose, savouring the chance to look down at him for once.

" I'm not interested, Marluxia. If you had any brains whatsoever you'd realize you're lucky you're tolerated among us at all and be content with that."

It was a good glare, and it was quite a disappointment when the amused smile spreading over the pink-haired man's lips told him it had been completely wasted.

" Intelligent indeed," Marluxia said, rising gracefully from his perch among the roots. " But perhaps not all that clever."

Zexion narrowed his eyes and took a step back as the taller man approached him only to find himself trapped against the tree behind him. There was a dangerous dark gleam in Marluxia's eyes as he came closer, predator staring down prey.

" I'm not afraid of you," Zexion hissed, the words unthinkingly sliding off his tongue. " Your games won't work here. We're all in this together. You can't harm me. You wouldn't dare."

The bastard had the audacity to give him a fleeting smile.

" Is that so..?"

Zexion wanted to curse his less than impressive stature as the older man placed one deceivingly delicate hand against the tree trunk beside his head and leaned forward, almost a full head taller than himself. Unable to do much else, he glared.

Marluxia caught and held his gaze, the deep blue intensity of his eyes almost hypnotic.

" You really want to be on my side rather than against me, Zexion. The strong rule, the weak submit. That is nature's way."

The slightest quirk of a smile ghosted over the Assassin's face as he cupped Zexion's chin lightly in his gloved hand.

" And the weak who don't know when to submit are overrun and destroyed. I'm sure we would all be loath to have that happen."

Wrenching his chin free and just barely resisting the urge to plant his knee where the flowery man would really feel it he ducked under the arm holding him captive against the tree. Cursing as his feet slipped in the mud he quickly stumbled away, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Assassin.

Marluxia calmly turned and looked at him, poised as ever, seemingly in no rush to catch up.

" Stay away from me, Marluxia," he growled and started backing away in the general direction of the campsite, ready to summon his shadows and illusions if the man made any attempt to corner him again.

" You won't find what you're looking for here. Had it been up to me we would never have brought you back in the first place. Threaten me again and I'll kill you."

Marluxia remained standing by the tree, that little infuriating amused smirk still on his lips.

" What a pity," he said, tone mild. " At least then we know where we stand. Have a care in the wilderness, Zexion," he called as the Schemer turned tail and hurried towards the camp.

" It would be most tragic if you were to have one of those little... accidents on your way back."

Zexion threw dignity to the wind and ran.

***

When the short man had disappeared out of sight he let his smirk fade and grimaced in annoyance. That certainly could have worked out better. The boy was clever; just bit too clever to be manipulated, but obviously not clever enough to realize his own good. He might have to be dealt with eventually if he insisted on sporting such an uncooperative attitude; that kind of contrary behaviour really wouldn't do the group any good in the long run.

Looking down he noticed the mud covering his boots and made a grimace; trust a scholar to know every aisle of any library yet picking a mud-pit in a forest full of convenient cliffs and boulders for his resting place.

Following the sound of running water he made his way through the rocky terrain towards the stream, contemplating the recent conversation in depth.

Perhaps the man would come around when he realized it was for the best of the group to listen...

Lost in thought he didn't notice Lexaeus until he nearly walked into the man.

He would have liked to think that if the other hadn't had the element of surprise on his side he would easily have been a match for him. As it was the sudden iron grip around his throat made any such abstract thinking very irrelevant indeed.

His boots left the ground, mud and all, and there was no time to even let out a gasp of surprise before his air-supply was cut off.

Lexaeus' face was as stoic and unreadable as ever, but the look in his eyes was dark, close to murderous.

" I couldn't help but overhear," he said, his deep voice somewhat raspy as though only rarely used, " part of your discussion just now."

Marluxia writhed in his grip, tried to claw and pry at the impossibly strong hand choking him, but without much success. Lack of oxygen made his limbs heavy and uncooperative, and even when he did manage to land a blow or kick it was like attacking a rock; Lexaeus didn't even blink.

" You see," the large man calmly continued, " There is the difference between civilized creatures and savage beasts. Thinking creatures work in packs, utilizing all their assets, not only the brute strength of one individual."

The Assassin's vision was slowly going dark and every cell in his body screamed out for air. He kicked and twisted helplessly, summoning darkness into the familiar shape of his scythe but the hand around his throat squeezed hard in warning and he quickly let the weapon dissipate before it solidified in his hands. No matter, by now he was too weak to even hold it, much less wield it.

The roar of rushing blood in his ears almost drowned out the sound of the Silent Hero's voice, it reached him distant and distorted.

" There is one thing you may wish to consider at some length, before putting too much faith in your conception of the world," the large man lectured, turning slightly. He vaguely registered the heels of his boots bumping into something behind him before almost blacking out as his uncooperative body was pressed down against one of the large boulders.

Only then was the pressure around his neck relieved somewhat and he desperately gulped down lungfulls of air before it could tighten again.

Lexaeus leaned down over him, and when his eyes met the larger man's he felt a sting of something uncomfortably close to fear; those eyes were as flat and ruthless as flint, hard and unyielding as the very bedrock.

" If, according to your reasoning, the strong are meant to rule and the weak must submit or be destroyed... You had better submit. Because, Marluxia, you are not the strongest here."

He struggled weakly as that accursed hand closed tighter around his throat again, shying away as Lexaeus' face leaned closer until it was only half an inch from his own.

" And you will never rule over us again. Do you understand?"

He tried to nod, wheeze an answer, but couldn't move, had no air to speak. He blinked desperately, trying to convey his compliance, knowing and hating that right here and now he was completely at the tall man's mercy.

Unfortunately the gleam in those hard eyes hinted there was not much mercy to be had.

After what felt like an eternity Lexaeus finally released his grip enough to let him breathe again, leaving him coughing and retching, struggling to suck air through his sore, abused throat into his aching lungs.

As oxygen returned, so did his righteous indignation. The man had no right to treat him like this, pinning him flat on his back like some submissive dog!

If the earth-elemental thought the Graceful Assassin would go down without a fight he was in for a surprise.

Clawing savagely at Lexaeus' eyes for a diversion he braced against the hard rock to push the taller man away before those strong fingers could close in another vice-like choke-hold. He was strong and lithe, and the manoeuvre should by all accounts have resulted in the older man staggering back, completely unbalanced.

He couldn't hold back a choked noise of surprise and horror as instead of pressing against the rock he felt his feet sink into it, plunging through stone as though it was wet clay. Lexaeus removed his glowing hand from the boulder and firmly caught the wrist of the hand clawing at his face. He pried it away with ease, almost breaking bone in the process.

Marluxia twisted frantically, struggling to free his legs, but the rock was once again hard and solid and he couldn't move them at all. With dawning dread he realized he was hopelessly trapped until Lexaeus saw fit to let the stone release him; something that he, judging from his stern expression, was in no mood to do anytime soon.

" It seems you still don't understand," the stoic warrior said and shook his head resignedly, letting go of his bruised wrist.

" Although why you insist on clinging to a philosophy that renders you the loser I don't comprehend."

Marluxia gave up his struggling and shot the other a dark glare.

" What are you going to do to me?"

Lexaeus gave him an unreadable look.

" Do? Nothing. It was you who stated that the weak who do not bend to superior power must be destroyed. If that is what you insist on believing, I wouldn't dream of trying to convince you otherwise."

He glared suspiciously as the larger man straightened and stepped back. A few futile tugs proved his feet were still securely trapped in solid stone, the uncomfortable angle of his legs already making them numb.

" You can't leave me here like this!" he sputtered as Lexaeus turned and started walking away.

A vague shrug was his only response. No matter how he squirmed and pulled he was trapped, unable to move his legs even a fraction of an inch.

" Lexaeus!" he yelled before the man disappeared among the trees. The looming figure halted and looked back over his shoulder.

He ground his teeth, loath to call the bastard back, but it didn't take a genius to understand that being left behind, trapped and unable to move would be very bad indeed. And even if Larxene or Vex-… Axel decided to come look for him, how would they get him loose? He swore bitterly.

" Lexaeus, come back here. Release me."

He hated how it came out sounding more like a meek request than the regal command it was intended as. At least the accursed rock-elemental was heading back towards him, seemingly in no hurry. As the man placed a hand beside his head and leaned over him, mirroring his own gesture with Zexion earlier he scowled angrily, the irony not lost on him.

" Release me," he repeated with a cool glare, refusing to flinch despite the sudden proximity.

" Being ruled over by the strong is not so fun, now, is it?" Lexaeus prompted, as solid and unmoving as the hard rock below. He suppressed a shudder and narrowed his eyes.

" I will not beg," he hissed

" But you will submit," Lexaeus calmly stated. " And learn why your ambition will never be tolerated by neither those weaker nor stronger than you."

He snarled in helpless fury, but knew he could only push so far to preserve his dignity. If Lexaeus turned to leave a second time something told him the man wouldn't be coming back. And being left imprisoned like this, a sacrificial offering to whatever wild beasts thrived in these godsforsaken forests…

There was no dishonour in accepting temporary defeat against a stronger, superior enemy. At least he kept telling himself that as he ground out his surrender between clenched teeth.

" Fine. You win. What more do you want from me?"

Lexaeus nodded. He didn't move a muscle, looking as impassive as ever, but a massive hand slid over Marluxia's chest, then methodically began unzipping his prisoner's robes.

Marluxia's eyes went wide with shock and disbelief; whatever punishment he had expected from the Silent Hero, this certainly wasn't it.

" You can't be serious," he gasped, forcefully trying to push the man away.

" It has worked for you before, hasn't it? It's time you place yourself in the other man's shoes for once. Pay attention. Perhaps you will actually learn a valuable lesson."

Despite the man's infuriating calm there was enough of a warning edge to the raspy voice that he let his hands fall back to his sides, forcing himself to stay silent.

So be it, then; if the man thought he would be cowed and broken by mere physical intimacy he was a poor judge of character. He had suffered worse, much worse than touch and unwelcome intrusion; enduring a short while of discomfort was a small price to pay to be freed.

Afterwards, however...

Afterwards Lexaeus would be wise to be careful. Given the time and opportunity to find a single invisible crack, a delicate flower could shatter the hardest rock.

***

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was how methodical, meticulous the man was. There was no malice, no apparent lust in his touch, merely the almost casual attention to the procedure of folding away robes, unbuckling belt and tugging down pants.

Marluxia grimaced with the discomfort of being left so helplessly exposed, but clenched his jaw and refused to look away.

As Lexaeus equally calmly folded aside his own clothes, however, he couldn't hold back a pang of apprehension. The large man was… proportional, with the size to go with his height and muscular build. He was fucking huge.

His mouth had gone strangely dry, and he couldn't suppress a flinch as the man leaned over him again, a solid, warm form between his uncomfortably spread thighs.

Still he refused to look away, meeting the rock elemental's eyes with proud defiance.

He would show no weakness.

Then he felt a massive intrusion pressing against him and realized Lexaeus intended to take him dry and unprepared, and he tensed and closed his eyes despite himself. He grabbed handfuls of the leather-coat beneath him tightly in his fists, forced himself to relax to ease the unavoidable discomfort.

Nothing could have prepared him for the pain.

He screamed until his already abused throat bled, back arching impossibly with the agony, hands clenching the coat in a shaking, white-knuckled grip.

Gods! Oh gods, gods, gods...

Lexaeus pulled away slightly, granting him a brief moment to catch his breath before ruthlessly pressing against him again.

Even through the dizzying pain he had the foresight to bring one hand to his mouth, biting hard into his sleeve to muffle his screams. Although the chances of the sound carrying far enough were slim, he did not want to risk being discovered by the others in such a compromising position.

The other pulled away one last time, then relentlessly pressed on all the way. He felt something inside him break and screamed again as the huge shaft finally plunged all the way inside.

Nothing could have prepared him for the pain.

He was far from innocent, knew well the slight discomfort that poor preparation could cause.

This was beyond anything he had ever known. It was not just a soreness where it could be expected; his whole body shut down around him, taut and rigid with the pain, and he could feel all blood draining from his face, cold sweat plastering his hair against his forehead.

Shameful tears blurred his vision, and he simply couldn't bring himself to care.

" Relax, old man. You're only making it harder on yourself."

Gods, I didn't realize... I'm sorry...

He screamed with every thrust until his voice was too ruined to carry, pitiful hoarse whines and whimpers all that remained. The stench of blood was thick in the air, the rough stone beneath his thighs slick with it.

And still Lexaeus was calm and systematic, no spite, malice or pleasure discernible in his rough features; the only hint of emotion in those flint-blue eyes was a vague detached interest, as though gauging and fine-tuning the amounts of dealt pain.

He squeezed his eyes shut again, all pride forgotten, and focused on breathing, on the taste of leather between his teeth and the rhythm of the pain. What little conscious thought was left prayed frantically to all forgotten gods he had never much believed in anyway for it to end, just end, pride, honour and dignity be damned.

Then the rhythm changed and the steady hands on his hips clenched down, fingers digging into his flesh hard enough to bruise. With a slight grunt the rock elemental spilled his release deep inside him, and he knew that, too, was important.

Tainted, marked, claimed.

He would not be allowed to forget.

He barely even registered when his cramping legs were released from their rocky prison, gasping with sudden relief that was almost as traumatic as the pain itself as Lexaeus pulled away and the immediate agony began to fade.

Slowly, gracelessly he managed to edge away enough to roll off the boulder, falling into a boneless heap next to it. He curled up, dazed, shivering with shock and pain. Nausea crashed through him and unable to fight it he bent double and threw up the remains of his meagre breakfast among the ferns.

As he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder he flinched violently, trying to twist away but found himself caught between the rock and the towering dark form that was Lexaeus.

" No, please," he tried to say, no sound escaping his damaged throat. " No more."

He blinked as something caught the sunlight and glinted brightly before his face, focused enough to realize it was a no doubt secretly hoarded vial of potion, and that it was calmly offered to him.

His head jerked up and he stared at the Silent Hero in bewilderment, but the man's face was as unreadable as ever.

" We will never speak of this again," he said. Marluxia only nodded weakly, unsure of why but knowing he could trust the man on this.

" You will apologize to him," Lexaeus told him matter-of-factly, and again he just nodded mechanically, unable to think or speak.

Then, as Marluxia made no move to accept the potion, the tall man leaned down and placed it between his trembling fingers.

The hand on his shoulder, a gesture surprisingly gentle from a man proven capable of causing such pain, was withdrawn as Lexaeus straightened, turned and walked away.

***

Marluxia was many things, but not stupid.

With a grimace he pulled the cork from the potion with his teeth and downed the liquid in one gulp, shuddering at the sensation of all the damage taken during the last half-hour beginning to heal, the pain slowly dissipating until it was faint enough to ignore.

Unsteadily he forced himself to his feet and stumbled aimlessly towards the sound of running water, yearning fervently to cleanse himself of more than the mud on his boots.