tragic_mask | (no subject)

"Your liver is safe with me," he says with a smile, "except for the much more prosaic dangers of alcohol. And you would be safe, too, at least throughout the terms of the game..."

"And what are those?"

"Nine days," he says. "I would do whatever you wanted, except let you go. We would live as though we were married, and at the end of the nine days, if the experience was pleasing, I would let you go. Or grant you a wish, to the best of my abilities. I've done it both ways."

She ponders it. "And if it wasn't pleasing, you'd keep me imprisoned?"

"I never say what the penalty would be, in those instances," he says quietly. "Many people assume I will kill them. Some have not survived. Most have."

"Well, I have to say I think the odds of survival are in my favor."

She pauses.

"Unless, of course, you've created a machine to kill gods. Which... would terrify me."

"I haven't," he says, "but for the gods of my world, no machine would be needed. I don't know if I would need one, if I put my mind to it."

A pause.

"But it isn't my top priority. And I would certainly not do it to you."

"I'm glad," she says, and kisses him. "It's a good thing you're so nice to me, because otherwise I'd probably be screwed."

"You deserve all the niceness I could give you, and more," he says. "And your enemies are mine also, if you like."

"Oh, I'm not that deserving," she says.

"What makes you think so?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well... I'm definitely not the shining example of goodness in the world," she says, wryly.

"I doubt I'd be half as fond of you if you were," he says. "You'd spend all your time horrified by me, and that would leave no time for anything else."

"Oh, yes," she says. "My dark past removes some of the barriers between us."

"There's a way people have about them," he says, "people who have suffered, or survived difficult situations, or who--I don't want to venture too far into clichés, but who have done things that others might not approve of. And you have that, and I find it very attractive. And always have."

"I can't tell whether I should be flattered or not."

"The fact that you are strong, and at least a bit cynical?" he asks. "Much harder to deceive. Harder to push around. I would be flattered."

"Well, all right," she says.

They come into sight, between two buildings and at some distance, of the falls. "Hey, see that?"

"And us with no barrels," he says with a quiet chuckle. "But our collective sense of direction is spot-on."

"Clearly," she says, "You are a good man to have around."

"You say that now... but will you still think so after you've seen the interminable holiday pictures I am about to take?" he asks.

She looks askance at him.

"I'd like to think so."

"'And this is my beloved, on the overlook near the falls. And this is ten seconds later, when she is looking a little bit to the left. And a few seconds later, discovering that our guidebook has been soaked by the water. And a few seconds later, telling me that that's quite enough pictures of her at this spot. And a few seconds later--yes, that's her hand in front of the camera.'" He grins.

She grins, too.

"At least there's none of 'she's not in the shot here, because she's accidentally fallen into the waterfall.'"

"Oh, no," he agrees. "If that were to happen, I'd put the camera down and go in after you."

A pause.

"Or give the camera to someone else, so we'd have some genuinely dramatic pictures to inflict on others."