Fuzzies

Useful info;



Pronunciations:



Veriea: Verr-ree-a(i)



Ver’ei’a: Veh-e-ah



Forenien: For-en-ee-en



Cartarea: Car-tar-ay



Vocabulary:



Kainde Amedha: hard meat/ xenomorph



Gaun-Thwei: night blood



Chiva: trial/ test



Setg’in kwei: tricky/ quick



Pyode Amedha: soft meat/ human (ooman)



Yeyinde: brave one



Pauk: fuck



Ell-osde c’jit: damn you



C’jit: damn/ shit/ general expletive



Pauk’de: fucking/ fucker



Hulij-bpe: crazy



Mei’hswei: brother (also use between close companions/clan mates)



Kerhite: training ground/training ring



Jehdin-jehdin: hand-to-hand combat (one-on-one)



Zazin: self-centered



Thwei’tek: blood bond (used to fuse strands of hair into dreadlocks)



M-di’h’dlak: no fear



Naxa: a kind of fruit from the Yautja home world



Thwei: blood



Sy’ua: wow/whoa (you get the idea)



Lou-dte kalei: child maker/female (usually a derogatory term)



Kantra: prayer



Ki’ct-pa: wrist blades



Awu’asa: armor



Cn’tlip: alcoholic drink



ki’its-pa: hunting spear



Enjoy the story ; P



WARNING! : This chapter contains themes that may be disturbing to younger or squeamish readers. This story is rated M for a reason. You have been warned. If you still read it and are traumatized or something, I can’t be held responsible because I did warn you. If you aren’t supposed to be here, I can’t be held responsible for that either and I wag my finger disapprovingly at you.



= Chapter 10 – Cut =



>



Her hands were bond above her head, her legs shackled akimbo and a hide muzzle strapped her jaws shut. She could hear someone pacing around just outside of her range of vision, somewhere near her head.



She growled.



“So, you’re awake already.” A deep, sensual voice stated flatly. She snarled but the voice was strangely familiar, as if she’d heard it while only while still in the womb. Deft fingers bushed her cheeks and the muzzle was loosened enough for her to talk perhaps even enough to bite, but she hoped whoever it was didn’t realize that.



“Fairly obvious deduction, asshole. Untie me.” She growled.



“Such spirit for one in your position. It would be fun to break you; my brother couldn’t.”



“I don’t know who you are, let alone your brother – I don’t make a habit of hanging out with psychos – so you obviously have the wrong person.” She said matter-of-factly, testing her bonds. Whoever they were, they merely laughed, moving around to stand beside her so that she could see them.



He was a tall, solid blue-grey feline male, his features disturbingly reminiscent of a Russian Blue she once had as a pet, despite their human qualities and two small, silver hoop earrings, as well as a gold one, dangled from his right ear, complimenting his large amber eyes.



For a moment, a memory of an image was super-imposed over the scene, of this male standing next to an older, similar looking male, starring down at her with a cruel smile that exposed his needle sharp teeth. She shook her head of the image; it was not her memory, but she knew where it had come from and that alone gave her reason to fear this male, to at least try to hold her tongue.



“I know you, Veriea,” He smiled at her small gasp. “Yes, I know you go by you ‘new’ name now. I have never forgotten your unusual markings or your strange, fire bright eyes. I should thank you for having killed my brother; he was all that stood between me and the power I have now.”



He leaned closer, whispering in her ear as one hand absently toyed with a lock of her fur. “You could have that power as well Veriea. You could have those children you so crave as well. Our offspring would be well protected, have the best of everything and one day inherit all the power I have now. And, for your peace of mind, I’m sure they’d be happy. You know that you could never have that with anyone else.”



“And I could have that with you?” She scoffed. “The best dragon healer in the known Universe couldn’t heal me; what makes you think you could?”



“Ah, but neither you nor your friend know or understand what was done to you. But I know, and I can reverse it.” He let that sink in before continuing. “You are such a strong female, Veriea, imagine how strong our children could be. You would make a fine mate and, even if you are a forenien, you would make a fine Queen for the Feline Empire.”



Those two words destroyed any influence he had started to gain with her and her eyes burned with cold fury.



“The Feline Empire?” She spat. “The Feline Empire is the reason my family is dead! Why I’m like this! You can take your fucking Feline Empire and ram it up your tail pipe!”



His face changed in an instant, his expression dark and angry and she barely had time to think before things had changed drastically.



He was on top of he, her hands pinned uselessly above her head. She lunged upwards, biting at his arms as hard as she could and he hissed furiously, back handing her across the face. “I’ll teach you some respect!” He snarled. “I gave you a chance to come to me willingly, to accept what I can offer. You have nothing. Your friends think you are dead! I am Master here and you are going to learn it! You are mine.”



>



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Veriea awoke with a start to find her furred blankets trying to strangle her.



Calming down a little, she detangled herself from the sheets and punched her pillows a few times, trying to relieve her frustration. It didn’t work.



She knew she couldn’t sleep peacefully again tonight and one nightmare was more than enough for her so she got up and started to don her clothes, gauntlets and ankle guards, though leaving the rest of her armory where it was, ears perked alertly and her tail twitching in agitation.



An irritating alarm system, she thought as she strode out of her door and silently padded down the hall, past the bridge and to the air lock, tapping in the code. As she leapt down to the sands of the beach where The Cn’tlip was hidden, cloaked safely among the cliffs, she dropped to all fours and decided that a good, long run was what she needed. As she ran along the dark shoreline, she thought about all she’d learned in the last few months.



It seemed that her nightmares becoming so frequent was an indication to the approach of her heat cycle , becoming more intense and less dream-like as the preluding week wore on, apparently caused by the extra, unfamiliar hormones in her system. She’d also been rather dismayed to find that her speculation as to the frequency of her heat cycles was turning out to be right, this being the second onslaught since they had left the Homeworld and, more or less, halfway through the rotation.



She had learned as well, the hard way, that the musk of a female in heat tended to attract the attention of more than just yautja males; the boys still teased her about the troop of me’a’kazes – small, tree-dwelling family animals – that had followed her around last time. Though they did have a very nice set of the striped furs now and the meat had lasted them a few weeks.



Veriea slowed and moved down the sands a little so that the water washed over her hands and feet. The sounds of the waves lapping at the shore was gentle in the night air and it soothed her a bit but by no means completely. Tonight’s nightmare still haunted her, as did the memory that supplied it.



What she wouldn’t give for there to be some magic way for her to forget but short of trying to beat herself senseless, there wasn’t and she didn’t particularly feel like braining herself stupid; she had to learn to cope with them. She just wished they didn’t affect her so badly. Her eyes gleaming iridescent in the moonlight, Veriea turned and started up the beach, heading for the scrub and tall trees where they had been hunting the previous day.



Perhaps a chase, a hunt like she use to do would help. It was still very dark, the moon high in the black, star-strewn sky, but it not too early to catch breakfast and it would give her something purposeful to do.



Head low, she cast around for a trail and when she found one, she set off.



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It was only just beginning to lighten when she returned to The Cn’tlip with her kill, already skinned and cleaned. It was a smallish, deer-like creature with great big claws instead of hooves and a long tail that ended in a scythe-like blade about 8 inches long. She had a few scratched on her arms and legs from its claws and two large gashes from on her back and shoulder from its tail but she was very happy with her hunt and had taken its tail blade to make a knife, as well as a few claws and its skull as trophies. She packed the meat away into the storage, cleaned up her trophies and herself and went back outside to work on her soon-to-be knife and watch the planet’s twin suns rise.



It was as the sky was turning a deep greeny-blue, just before dawn, that Veriea became aware that she had company.



“Morning.” She said, not looking up as she finished her work. She already knew who it was; she’d gotten good at telling the boys apart simply from their presence.



“I noticed the extra meat in the storage; you’ve been hunting already?” G’re’e’cha asked, sitting down next to her. She felt warmer and more relaxed for his presence.



“Ages ago. Like my new knife? Breakfast was kind enough to supply it.” She offered up the finished blade for his inspection.



“You’re getting good at making blades. Your first one was honestly rather pathetic but this is good; you’ve balanced the handle and the blade perfectly. I think your Teki’ke’a friend would be proud. I like the grips you’ve put on the handle.” He commented as he experimenting with the knife, putting it through its paces. “Wouldn’t stand up to hard meat blood though.” He said, handing it back to her, handle first.



“Not much does.” She snorted, knowing he was trying to bait her. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment.



“Exactly how long have you been up?” She shrugged. “Nightmares?”



“One. I knew I wasn’t going to get any more sleep and instead tried to tire myself out, you know, too tired to dream. Not working all that well though; still wide awake.”



“Ver’ei’a,” He admonished. “That’s not good for you. If you’d just let one of us-“



“No.” She growled. “I rather think waking up with someone groping me once is quite enough. Besides, you guys won’t always be there; I have to learn to deal with it on my own.”



“What makes you think we wont always be here?” G’re’e’cha demanded.



“That’s what happens; people drift apart eventually. You guys will probably find Life Mates at some point and you aren’t going to want to spend all your time hanging around each other then.”



G’re’e’cha sat broodingly for a moment, watching her closely.



“Let me rephrase that then; what makes you think I won’t always be there for you?”



Veriea blinked, confused for a moment.



Dare she hope…



“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, G’re’e’cha.” She said carefully.



“I like you, Ver’ei’a, a lot.” G’re’e’cha brushed one of her dreadlock behind her ear. “I want to be there for you. You aren’t like other females, in the obvious and not so obvious ways.” He chuckled softly. “And you let me get away with teasing you with only minor injuries, too.”



Veriea looked away, out at the thin horizon over the water, swallowing hard.



She had suspected this and if she was perfectly honest with herself, she had hoped. Somewhere between being a pain in the ass and being protective of her, she had found herself attracted to him, how, she didn’t know but she had and for all his teasing and flirting, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that he could be a real possibility. He made her laugh, something she was definitely in need of, always knew if something was bothering her and was definitely that little extra bit more protective of her than the others. He was completely honest with her and realized fully that she had different needs than the yautja females.



“G’re’e’cha…” She completely forgot what she’d been about to say when she found him a lot closer than he had been a second ago.



For one idiotic moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.



The rational part of her brain was saying; hello? They don’t have lips! Yautja kissing – equals – physically impossible; get your mind out of the gutter!



So she was surprised when he gentle ran the tips of his mandibles across her cheeks and waited, as if testing, asking for permission. That feels nice… she thought absently. She quivered as he did it again. It sure felt like a kiss, only without the lip-locking and her hormones seemed to know what it was because they surged up with a vengeance as her eyes fluttered close of their own accord and she sighed. Since when did her cheeks become erogenous zones?



And did she just sigh?



He moved his attentions down to her neck and automatically she tilted her head to give him access, which brought a purr of pleasure from G’re’e’cha and he gently nipped her skin with his teeth. “The others…?”



She mentally cringed at how clueless (and breathless) she sounded and was about to make another attempt at speaking in a coherent sentence when he answered her.



“I already spoke with them.” He mumbled, tickling her skin. Did he always know what she was thinking? She was supposed to be the Empath.



He lifted his hands, placing one on her shoulder, kneading her taunt muscles and the other began to massage her ear. Between that and what he was doing to her neck, Veriea felt like her brain was short circuiting. G’re’e’cha traced his finger tips across her collar bone and a small mewling escaped her, drawing another purring chuckle from G’re’e’cha.



She didn’t have a clue when it had happened but somehow they had ended up lying down in the sand, G’re’e’cha leaning over her but apparently being very careful to keep his weight off of her. She had to smile at that; even now he was being so careful and protective of her. It was rather hard to think though, with him nibbling on her neck like that.



G’re’e’cha was slowly tracing the scars on her shoulders with backs of his knuckles and Veriea wondered absently what it was about yautja blood that made their scars stand out so darkly against the skin as she admired his. He was tracing her skin with his talon tips now, inducing a delicious shiver to tingle its way down her spine. Her hands had taken a life of their own it seemed, roaming his chest and shoulders.



Maybe she could handle this now, maybe she was ready…



She kissed his neck and he purred again and she could feel the vibrations it caused through his skin. She could smell his aroused musk strongly from this close but it didn’t seem noxious to her as the other male’s had. If he was this attentive and gentle all the time she could really get used to this….



She gasped and jerked back as G’re’e’cha gazed a set of scars beneath her right collar bone with his claws. Misinterpreting the sound, he repeated the action, this time his talons more gentle but they matched the jagged lines as if he were carving them himself and a coil of inexplicable panic shot though her. For a moment she saw cold amber eyes leering at her and she couldn’t hear G’re’e’cha calling her name for the blood rushing in her ears.



She felt herself being shaken and she snapped back to reality, pushing G’re’e’cha away from her roughly and scrambling backward, eyes wide. She looked up at him, realized what she had done and collapsed in on herself hugging her knees into her chest and burying her face in them, her tail wrapping around her feet, ears drooping with a whimper.



G’re’e’cha tentatively lay a hand on her shoulder, pulling back when she flinched. “Ver’ei’a?” He said softly. “I’m sorry, did I- Did I hurt you?”



“No.” Her small voice came, muffled by her knees. Gods, she felt awful, leaving him in the lurch like that and now he thought he’d hurt her. He had made her feel better than she had in long time and he thought he’d hurt her. She lifted her head, a sad look in her eyes. “I’m sorry, G’re’e’cha. I- I can’t do this, not now. I do like you and I want…But I can’t.” By the time she’d finished, her eyes were downcast again.



G’re’e’cha resettled himself beside her and wrapped his arms around her protectively. This time she didn’t flinch. Veriea learned her head back to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed. She couldn’t believe how accepting he was; no questions, no demands, no going off in a huff or trying to coerce her. He had every right to be angry – she had just pushed him away in the middle of something getting very personal, not to mention physical – but he was just being supportive, realizing, she supposed, that she had issues to deal with and lending a shoulder to lean on, literally as well as figuratively. He really wasn’t the typical yautja male and she knew just how damn lucky she was to have him, as her friend and as her potential – hopeful – something more.



When Veriea felt the first rays of sunlight on her face she shifted, still shivering but not from cold, the tension in her muscles refusing to recede.



“Are you alright Ver’ei’a?” G’re’e’cha asked, nudging her head with his own.



“No.” She admitted. “But I will be. I have to-“ The tension in her body redoubled then. “I have to go.” She tried to stand but G’re’e’cha tightened his grip.



“No. You’ve already been up half the night. Go back to The Cn’tlip, get some sleep.”



“To have more nightmares?” I don’t think so.” She slipped under his hold and stood but he grabbed her wrist.



“I’ll sit with you then. I promise I won’t fall asleep. You need the rest Ver’ei’a.” His voice was almost pleading but she knew that sleep right now was not what she needed. If she went to sleep now…she dreaded what she might see; what she might have to relive.



“Don’t hold me back, G’re’e’cha.” She said softly. “You know me far less than you think you do. I know what I’m doing…and you have my Promise.”



His grip loosened in surprise at that and she took the opportunity to slip out if it. He didn’t call after her as she walked away.



((A/N: Had you all going, didn’t I? You thought they were gonna get it on; don’t deny it. ;P ))



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Veriea hunted and killed far more viciously than she had thought herself capable of.



She was channeling all her anger and frustration into her actions and that was far from good for her prey. Veriea didn’t get clumsy when she was angry; she got lethal.



How dare He ruin that moment for her. He was gone, in her past and yet He still managed to affect her life.



It’s because He’s still with me, she thought, In my memories and in my nightmares.



She slashed through her current prey’s belly, spilling its intestines before it, imagining His face, that it was His innards she was spilling, as He watched, helpless. Scavengers and predators alike were following in her wake, attracted by the smell of the blood and gore and by the noise, fighting over the carcasses and dragging them off into hiding, though there were plenty for the taking.



She wasn’t taking any care to be quiet as she thrashed through the vegetation, cutting down anything she couldn’t simply push aside and paying no attention to the injuries she was sustaining, minor or not. She welcomed the pain, hers and that she sensed from her prey, the fighting creatures around her. The physical pain was easier to deal with and it helped drown out the emotional ache that was growing in her chest.



Dammit! Couldn’t she ever just have want she wanted out of life? She didn’t ask for much.



She punched the nearest tree in a rage, screaming her anger.



A flash of pain lanced up her arm.



That felt good.



She did it again, splitting open the skin on her knuckles.



She kept punching the tree until she couldn’t feel her hand anymore and she had left several indentations in the rough bark. Breathing hard, she leaned against the tree, heedless of the bloody pulp she was smearing across her brow or the blood trickling down her body, dripping from her abused hand. She flicked out her ki’cti-pa and began slashing the tree but quickly stopped.



That didn’t help the pain.



She slashed at a clear spot on her arm. That worked. She healed the cut and then reopened it. And did it again. She knew it would make a scar, she was cutting too deep, but the rush of adrenaline each reopening and healing brought, the sense of control, the pain, helped her to forget what utterly helpless prey she was to her own subconscious mind, her memories.



This she could control, her physical body, force it to damage and fix itself in a never ending circle.



But you can’t control it all, can you? Her mind taunted her.



She slashed deeper, hissing in pain.



No.



She couldn’t.



That’s why she couldn’t get close without seeing Him, without being reminded of the reasons why she shouldn’t; couldn’t.



She considered, not for the first time, of cutting that deeply just a little farther down, not healing it, ending it but she wouldn’t do that. No, then He would win. She wouldn’t let Him win. She would not give in.



She realized then that she magic had reached its limit and she could no longer heal, for a while at least. The boys would think nothing of the wound though, just another mark of the hunt; just another scar.



Exhausted, she returned to The Cn’tlip.



Night was falling once more.



The air lock opened and she saw her boys lounging around the bridge, still in their armor, cleaning trophies, obviously having had a good day’s hunting.



“Hey, Ver’ei’a, where’ve you-“ She walked past them, ignoring S’ak’e’cha’s warm greeting. “-Been?” He finished, his brow furring in confusion as he watched her retreating back. “What’s up with her?”



In her room Veriea mechanically went through the motions of cleaning her armor before stepping into the shower. She hadn’t realized just how much blood she’d been covered in, a disturbing amount of it her own.



It had been years since she last self-inflicted, mostly because He had stopped her from getting her hands on anything she could use to do it; He couldn’t have His prized pet kill herself, not that it stopped her from trying.



She turned the hot water on full blast and started her grisly task of sloughing off the caked layers of gore; for half an hour the water was sickening shades of green, purple and pink as in ran down the drain to be cleaned and recycled. Once she was finally clean, she moderated the temperature to something more comfortable and just let the spray wash over her.



She couldn’t start self-inflicting again.



There was no one to bring her back if she managed to go too far and she shouldn’t be doing it, just as a general rule. Things were better now. She was happy, for the most part.



And there was G’re’e’cha.



Thinking about him was enough to put a smile on her face. No, she wouldn’t self-inflict again, not because she could go too far, or because He might win. She wouldn’t because she had G’re’e’cha.



She turned off the water, dried herself off and flopped into her bed, dragging up the covers.



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Sometime later that night, after the others had gone to sleep, G’re’e’cha knocked on Veriea’s door. Getting no answer he knocked again and the door slid open; it hadn’t been locked.



Veriea was tossing and turning on the bed, looking as though she were trying to fight something off, small noise of distress escaping her. He crossed the room quickly, taking her hand in his and lifting her up so that she was nestled in his lap as he sat on the bed. He brushed an errant dreadlock out of her face and after a minute or so she calmed, though a look of fear stayed etched on her features.



What was done to you, Ver’ei’a? He thought and then a growl rumbled from deep in his chest. And who did it to you?



These nightmares were hitting her hard but what worried him most was what was causing the nightmares; she’d said enough for him to figure out that it was to do with her past, before she had run into their Chiva hunting party. S’ak’e’cha had also said something about her desperately calling out for someone named ‘Silvashadow’ once. Was that the name of a past mate? And where was he now if he wasn’t taking care of her?



G’re’e’cha felt the anger rising in him. What pathetic excuse for a male would let her go off into a situation like they had found her in? He found himself dearly wishing this Silvashadow to be dead. How could he possibly leave her to be tormented as she obviously had been? All of them were fond of Veriea and didn’t like to see her in pain – as testified by his and her brother’s threats of what they would do to him if he hurt her – but it hurt him to see her hurting.



He did have her Promise though.



He wondered who had told her about Promises. Giving him her Promise meant that she would not consider another mate for the next 4 rotations, or until she either accepted or refused his offer. Knowing her like he did, she would not have been considering mates anyway but it was a security none the less and it did give her a viable excuse to turn prowling males away rather than what she had done last time; he still smiled at the memory, the looks on his friends’ faces and probably even his own when they had seen those two strips of material tied around her ki’its-pa. That had been about the time he started to realize how much he hated the idea of seeing her with someone else.



The Promise was an old custom that few practiced anymore but it did, more or less, give him permission to prove he could be a good Life Mate, a courting period really and he was going to show her just how good he would be. There wasn’t anything he could really do to relieve her of her nightmares and it frustrated the hell out of him.



But he could sit with her.



He would be there for her.



True to his word, he didn’t fall a sleep but before she stirred in the morning he was gone, leaving only a faintly warm space as any indication he’d been there. He was going to need to take things slow with her. If her reaction the previous morning was any indication, he would have to be careful about how he courted her; normal tactics would not help him here. Security and protection was what she needed most right now.



End- Ch 10



A/N: Awwww, poor G’re’e’cha and Veriea. I know, I’m evil, but this is all part of the plot. There were lots a clues in this chapter by the way.