sunchime | ☆ the vorkosigan saga psl post, volume 3

[ this time when she hits him it's with a closed fist, a nasty right hook that connects with his chin and leaves her hand hurting, but it's almost guaranteed to have hurt byerly more. she never used to fight like this, never used to know how, but as it turns out, tucker's a pretty good teacher, and she isn't a terrible student, either.

the blow catches in her breath, too, fighting off another round of tears. she's never known anyone to make her so angry. she's been bruised before, hurt by people, but none of them have ever made her this angry, and she hates it. but she doesn't stagger back, even as she withdraws her hand to rub over her knuckles. ]

[ He staggers again, the breath going out of him as his brain rattles around in his head. Another wave of satisfaction ripples through him, pure miserable masochistic joy. He turns towards her, and unsticks his jaw enough to goad her: ]

Go on. Hit me again.

[ it's much easier to make sonia cry than it is to make her angry enough to hit someone, but she is a temperamental girl -- what was it that piotr had said? gives in too easily to fits of emotion? it isn't hard to get any kind of reaction out of her. and right now she's angry, angry and dizzy enough to just keep hitting him, to block all else out.

another ragged cry claws its way out of her throat as she takes another swing at him, hand connecting with his jaw again. her form is bad, she's not hitting him at the right angle and it's hurting her hand, but she doesn't care. ]

[ He doesn't care, either. Later, he'll beat his head against the wall in self-loathing, furious at himself for having dragged her into that, made her do all that. It couldn't have been good for her, could only have made her miserable...But in the moment, he's just enjoying it too much. So: ]

Again.

[ she isn't enjoying it, couldn't ever admit to enjoying it, but it's satisfying something and she isn't thinking, doesn't have to think with byerly goading her like this. every breath is hitched, on the verge of angry tears, and this time when she hits him in the face, she drives her knee into his stomach again -- just tall enough to manage -- she hits byerly like a prisoner beating her fists against the wall, begging for escape. ]

[ He falls to his knees, gasping for breath. At this point - reasonably - the guards decide that this is enough; two come in, one to restrain her, the other to help him back to his feet and pull him from the cell. He doesn't go truly willingly. ]

I'm all right -

[ a guard lays hands on her and sonia goes still again, doesn't fight in the least, just hiccuping and trying to swallow the rising tide of tears creeping up the back of her throat. she doesn't resist when the guard pulls her back, doesn't even complain that his grip is far too tight -- she just stares after byerly, red-eyed, calling out hoarsely so loud it might as well be a scream. ]

Why wouldn't you hit me back?

[ Don't you know?

He doesn't respond to that. The guard looking at him looks at his face and pulls him out of the room, evidently determined to take him to the medical bay. After a bit more reluctance, Byerly allows it to happen, going out with them. He doesn't look back at her. ]

[ she has time to think. entirely too much time to think, because hardly anyone comes except to bring food and water. she doesn't pace anymore, she's sick of pacing the length of the room and measuring every step. after they take byerly away she doesn't do anything but curl up on her cot and cry into her pillow, not just weeping tears but screaming them out, playing that scene over and over in her head again. there's too much to untangle, too much to unpack. if there was any trace of honesty in that, if he was doing anything but playing head games with her --

goddammit, byerly, you're awful at telling the truth.

but days go on, and the sting of hope fades, and she just feels miserable about what she's done. what she is, apparently, capable of. she feels sick with it. she wants it all undone.

this time when the chime comes she's curled up on her cot, red-eyed and clutching a pillow to her chest. she looks at the door warily, but she doesn't get up. ]

[ If he had the option, he would keep avoiding her. He, unfortunately, does not. The Cetagandans have charged him to secure her cooperation - they believe she's close to breaking, and (they say) if they can bring her over to their side, then they'll have a handle on Xav. And if they have a handle on Xav, they have a handle on the whole resistance to Cetagandan rule.

And so By comes in again, looking perfectly long-suffering and weary. He looks better now, although his face is a little puffy. A little bruised. His opening line is brutal: ]

Done crying?

[ she looks up from her pillow, and it isn't the look of a girl who's just been crying, weeping, hiccuping. it's the look of a girl who's done crying because she's too tired to anymore, at least right now, and she looks flat-out miserable. the look she gives him is lidded, tired, a little dead-eyed but still thoroughly resentful. her voice is hoarse, quiet, her nose a little stuffy, but it's flat and perfectly audible to byerly. ]

I'm not going to hit you again. Just go.

I'm certainly not attempting to be hit. That would be quite insane. No -

[ He crosses his arms. ]

I'm here to talk.

[ she ignores the question. he'll repeat it, she's sure. he's relentless in his own way. ]

Then why did you let me hit you the first time?

[ He presses a hand to his heart and says, mockingly: ]

It would be dishonorable to hit a princess.

As if you have any honor left.

[ it's a weak insult, and she knows it won't faze byerly -- he'll probably just laugh at it. but she doesn't take her eyes off him, because he only half-answered the question. it's not the half she wants. so she just repeats: ]

Why did you let me hit you?

[ he could have stopped her at any point. she knows that. he's bigger, stronger -- probably isn't much for fighting, but you don't need to be just to push someone down. ]

[ His lips thin just a bit. ]

What should I have done instead? Hit you back? Why are you pursuing this?

You could've stopped me. You wouldn't even have to hit me.

[ she could get up off the cot, walk toward him and see if he recoils again -- god, she thought that kind of thing was something only olivia was capable of -- but she doesn't move, drawing her knees up to her chest. she stares at byerly, eyes dry but her stomach is clenching all the same. ]

Did you want me to?

[ He doesn't quite meet her eyes. ]

Have you ever been hit, Sonia? It's not a pleasant experience.

[ she doesn't answer that at first. then: ]

Yes.

[ For just a moment - a split second - his eyes flicker. ]

When?

[ she sees that flicker. she wants to see it again. ]

Which time?

Multiple times, then.

[ she still hasn't taken her eyes off him. ]

Yes.

[ And there's more of that flicker. A fierceness behind the bored mask. Though his good sense reasserts itself. ]

Well, that's not any of my business. In the past now, I suppose.

For now.

[ she doesn't think byerly would hit her. no, she believes that, at least. but most of the people who ever hit her -- they were trying to kill her, or take her. but she's already taken here, and byerly has no interest in killing her. no, she saw that flicker again. she can't just be imagining it. she hugs her pillow, resting her chin on it. ]

I told you I don't want to talk to you.

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