Treacherous

Always Riddick had worn that damn cloak. She hadn’t seen what he wore beneath even once. If he’d been dressed like this all along, she’d really been missing out. It was glorious to behold.

His clothing mirrored Vaako’s, except in color. Where Vaako wore a muted gold, Riddick wore black. Sleeveless and high-necked, the material hugged his entire body like a casing. And he was magnificent.

His pacing was bringing him closer now and she could only stare. Thick neck, wide shoulders, impressive chest, narrowing into his waist before the rounding of his hips lead to that tight ass and muscular legs. She knew she was staring, but couldn’t seem to stop. This body had haunted her night and day for more than five years. Presenting it to her in such a revealing package was just playing unfair.

It took her a minute to gather her scattered thoughts, and only then did she notice that he hadn’t been alone. No less than six servants were in the room with him. Two stood at the wheeled cart that held the food. Two stood on opposite sides of the door she and Vaako had just entered, and two more stood flanking a door on the right. If there were more she didn’t see them immediately, but didn’t rule it out.

“Get a nice tour?” Riddick growled at her.

She smiled, likening him to a caged beast. Servants meant to aid him must only make him feel anxious, and watched. They could help him most by not helping him.

“Okay, that’s enough. Everyone out. If your Lord needs anything I’ll let you know.”

She had eight pairs of eyes on her suddenly. Most just held degrees of curiosity or surprise. Riddick’s looked grateful. But no one moved.

“You heard her. OUT!”

That did it. Within a matter of seconds Vaako was the only one left.

“My Lord, you must not leave the Basilica alone again. Your guards’ duty is to protect you. They cannot if we don’t know where you are.”

Riddick scowled and Bell figured him close to violence. She turned to Vaako. “You’re right. He’ll be right here. If we need anything we’ll let you know.” She urged the Monger toward the door, actually touching his arm to do so.

With a final look at his Lord, the Commander left. Bell closed the door, but didn’t see a lock. Too bad. She turned to see that Riddick had paced away again. She spent a few seconds admiring that view, and then was heading for the delicious smells coming from the loaded cart.


“Lajjun not feeding you?”

Bell looked up from crudely shoving food into her mouth as fast as she could swallow. Riddick looked much calmer now, almost relaxed. She’d been busy eating for long minutes, basically ignoring his presence, which was just what he needed. “Soup.”

Riddick seemed to inspect the cart. Originally it had appeared to be too much food. Now it had a substantial chunk taken out of it. “Are you going to leave some for me?”

Bell ripped a piece of meat from an unknown animal’s leg with her teeth. She pretended to consider, then shrugged, speaking with food in her mouth, “First come, first serve. Go find your own.”

He smiled, a genuine smile. “I think I might have missed you, Bell.”

She watched him, her eating slowing finally. Honestly she was starting to feel kind of sick. Riddick was taking a seat in a chair across from her, not to eat, but to just sit. That he’d chosen to sit near her, add to that the near-compliment and she was more than flattered.

“I’m like a dog. Faithful companion, useful tricks, and on occasion I can snuggle up to get my head patted.”

His expression had changed, staring at her, considering. “What’s your take on all this?”

Bell slouched back, taking a glass of wine with her. A shove with her foot and the cart rolled away leaving only a dozen or more feet of empty space between them. “I don’t know. So much has happened. So much still has to happen.”

Riddick pulled a knife from somewhere. Where the hell did he keep those things? Clothes skin-tight and he was producing blades? If he wasn’t careful he might lop off something vital. He handled the knife with practiced skill just toying with it, watching it. After a few seconds she saw that he wasn’t really concentrating on it, but was in some deeper consideration. Maybe the knife helped him think. That was kind of scary.

“I didn’t want to get involved in this.”

She snorted, “No shit?” she teased. “I take it you didn’t have a choice.” She watched him looking at her and twirling that knife. So lethal. “What was their leverage?”

His lips thinned and his eyes dropped, “Kyra.”

Bell was instantly on alert, “She was here?”

“She’s dead.”

The emotion in those two words was thick, and hard for him. Riddick was a trained killer, an experienced fighter and veteran survivalist. In being that unrelenting, shrewd man, he was also vulnerable, to the softer things. How did a killer justify to himself that he cared about something?

They sat in silence for a long time. Bell was becoming restless.

“When are you supposed to meet with the Militia?”

Riddick’s eyes snapped to hers, the blade stilling. “I didn’t tell you about that.”

“I guessed,” she admitting, shrugging. “They’re here, Helion is leaderless. That leaves you, this.” She motioned around. “They didn’t come to give congratulatory pats.”

He remained silent, and then nodded. Bell took it as a sign to continue. “I’m assuming they don’t know who the honor of Lord Marshal has fallen to. Best keep it that way. They might have let you go once, but I think they’re regretting it.”

He rose, stopping before he for a second before resuming his pacing. This time he stayed closer, going no more that ten steps before turning and marching past her. “Which brings us to you.”

Bell scrubbed her hand over her face, winced, and then gently probed the tender swollen area still around her eye. “Yeah, back to me.”

Riddick stopped, his hands behind his back, so she couldn’t tell if he still held that knife. Not that it mattered. The weapon could materialize in his hand like a magician anyway. “You’ve turned out to be more than you let on. A nobody in repo, you told me.” She held his gaze as he gave her back her words from years earlier. He stepped closer, those silver eyes penetrating her very skull. “I can feel the weight on your shoulders, Bell. You have lots to share, and now I can feel whether it’s the whole truth, so start talking. If I’m not satisfied I’m sure the Quasis can help.” He smiled here, a feral expression that she didn’t find to her benefit.

She stood, forcing the courage that it took to bring herself that little bit closer to him. “Where should I start?”

“At the beginning.”

He went back to his pacing. The guy really needed a treadmill or something. He was going to wear a hole in the floor.

“Alright, Riddick, I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything. But I…” She closed her eyes, willing herself to at least start. “But I can’t promise you’re going to like it,” she whispered.

So she talked. She told him about her mother, almost their mother. Told him of how hard the woman had fought to get him, and been denied. He seemed thoughtful when she told him of playing together as children, but didn’t say if he remembered her. She glossed over what she knew of his teenage years. Prison, military, worse prison, and then escaping. She knew very little, and he knew everything, so it was more just letting him know what she did know. Then T2, escaping, finding him gone, and then leaving herself. She told him about the ship, having Ramsay and Jack along. Then it was just her and Ramsay, and she was investigating a ship down in the Frigido System. Making the first drop, and then running.

When she stopped Riddick continued to pace for a minute and then stopped, feet from where she stood. “How long have you known you were Furyan?”

“I’ve always known, I think. My parents made the connection, and hid it. It was why they wanted you. I don’t think they understood the importance, but figured if we were wanted dead so badly as children, then we were worth saving.”

He nodded, “Smart.”

“I was told that my heritage was unique, that I would be special one day, have special powers.” She shrugged and met his gaze, “I never did.”

“Yeah, ya do.”

Bell frowned. “Maybe to you I do, but I can’t control it.”

He cocked his head for a second, “You’ll learn maybe. Now what else? That’s not all.”

Bell closed her eyes. She’d nearly relaxed, talking about their origins, but hadn’t dodged the bullet. There was no easy way to say this, and no real way to judge what his reaction would be.

Staring at him she just said it. “I got pregnant.”

For a few moments his expression didn’t change and she wondered if he understood the significance. Then he scowled, lips thinning.

“I found out after you left. Weeks after, really. I didn’t know how to tell you then. It wasn’t safe to communicate.”

He just stared at her, his face unreadable, but she could feel him, or at least his emotions. It felt like standing near a blazing fire, feeling the tendrils of intense heat.

“All convicts are given vasectomies, Bell. It’s not mine.”

He spoke slowly, enunciating the words, like he was talking to a child, trying to make her understand, but that growled tone was a bit off. She smiled. Prisoners sentenced of certain crimes were deemed not worthy of procreation. Didn’t need more trouble breeding, was the idea. Sterilization also prevented the necessity of having to segregate slams. She knew that to be true, but she also knew this truth, and understood his not believing her.

“It’s not an it, it’s two it’s, and they’re boys.”

He continued to stare at her, far enough away to seem aloof, but with an intense scowl that belied his indifference.

“The twins were born just thirty-six weeks after you left. You are the only possible father, Riddick.”

His silence continued.

Bell smiled, “I wish you could see them. They’re you, smaller, but in duplicate.” Her smile widened, thinking of the two rowdy blessings. “Poor Ramsay can’t keep up with them. They’re little monsters sometimes. But they’re so damn sweet too. I never thought I could need someone so much.”

“Ramsay’s still with you?”

Bell frowned. She didn’t miss that he completely disregarded any mention towards the children. Reality was bitch, and it would catch up with him. “He was. But before I get to that there’s something else.”

Now this was the part she’d been anticipating. She wanted to see the truth, to hear it from him, and see his reaction.

“Ramsay’s manufactured to be sexually active.”

Riddick raised a brow at her, obviously surprised by the new subject. He didn’t make a comment.

“Comes in handy.” She smiled, not above being shy about using the android. “He’s like an overgrown vibrator.”

Riddick huffed, “That’s nice, Bell. Thanks for sharing.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “See, I need you to explain how an android could’ve gotten me pregnant.”

He had the decency to blanch, and she was happy to see it.

“You criticized Ramsay on T2, but three years later he has to explain to me how he could’ve gotten me pregnant, and who the donor was.” Riddick looked pissed. Good. “Care to explain?” she asked too-sweetly.

“Androids have their uses.”

Bell nearly gasped. He wasn’t going to try to excuse it. That was quite admiral actually, and she should’ve expected it. When had Riddick ever shown regret for something he’d done? “Well, said, and I agree. But that doesn’t get us past the point that we now have three children. Unfortunately I learned that Militia monitors all androids, and thanks to you he’s carrying DNA that they find very interesting. They couldn’t have you, so they took the next best thing, your offspring.”

“I don’t need this right now, Bell,” he growled.

Her mouth fell open in a shocked gasp. She wanted to hit him, and would have if it wouldn’t have lead to certain death. “Gosh, I’m sorry, My Lord. I purposely waited until you were knee-deep in shit to let them take my kids. I just knew you were such an upstanding citizen that you’d rush to my rescue the second I needed you.”

“Don’t fuckin’ push me!” He was in her face, or at least that damn blade was. His menacing countenance wasn’t far behind. “I didn’t ask for this shit!”

She stood her ground, both physically and emotionally, as the force he could command snapped around her, echoing his rage. “I didn’t either. But they’re my babies. I’d die for them.”

He recoiled like she’d struck him. One second he was snarling in her face, and the next he was back-stepping. A startled look at her, and then he was leaving, the heavy door boomed shut behind him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Through the ship, like a whisper. Anyone that saw him barely did. He was gone before they had time to focus. Silent and fast, no destination, just away from that thing in his chamber.

Darkness, alone. He stopped, his breath coming a little faster for his trouble, or for another reason.

Bell was an unknown to him. She had a power he didn’t understand and couldn’t even characterize fully. It wasn’t a force, like this thing he’d gained. Her power was undefined, and subtle. No weapons, no real strength, no real threat even, but she forced him to be on guard constantly.

Finding her, rescuing her, had felt right. He owed her, and that was foreign to him. Well, at least with anyone else it would be. Didn’t owe nobody shit. Except for Bell. Seemed like he always owed her for something. After that planet he’d figured they were square, neither obligated to the other. Then there’d been U.V.6 and her unasked for help. Hadn’t needed or asked for it. That had been her choice. But he couldn’t completely overlook it either.

But this…

He hadn’t known, hadn’t chosen, yet he was at fault. She’d paid for meeting him, paid hard. The bitch was lucky to be alive after Militia had at her.

And now they were fuckin’ parents? He growled low, wanting something to slash out at. Kids. His rage and frustration and betrayal were mixed with something much more confusing. Unasked for and unwanted, but undeniable. Pride.

He’d assumed he’d die childless, had hoped for it. Wasn’t a world in the systems that would welcome another Riddick.

But something had changed, in him. He’d gone from being a feared criminal on the run to having a heritage.

A heritage. A home world or even a home was something that he’d given up on so long ago he couldn’t remember. To have it handed to him now felt like an insult.

The thing inside him, the apparition, awakened by the Quasis was full of righteous anger, and affinity. It knew a love for a world he’d never seen, and believed he would return there. It didn’t seem to notice that he was of the opinion that he never would.

That’s where the seed of pride he felt was coming from. His apparition nearly had a self of its own, and it believed in things he’d never considered. Family, sovereignty, legacy. It was quite content in his current role, as the ruler of thousands, and now father.

He’d envisioned tossing the Necromongers through the Threshold. Cut the ties and break free. Get out.

Bell had dumped that plan on its ass, and he hated that. He’d helped her out. It was supposed to go easy. A few fucks and nothing else. Cut loose from her right along with the Necros. He laughed in the darkness. Yeah, right.

She’d die for them. Fry was laughing somewhere at the irony, he was sure. Fuck this humanity shit, it was too hard. It required too much fucking work!

His rage was violent. He wanted to roar, maim, destroy. But it dispelled in the wake of one thought, one truth.

He couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t dump Bell like Militia had, and like he had before. And he wasn’t about to let Militia have just anything they wanted. ‘Specially if it was his.

That new part of him was thrilled by the ‘his’. The righteous anger was now aimed at anyone who would think they could take from him.

Hard to walk back. It felt like defeat, makin’ her the winner. He didn’t like being forced into doing things, but in the end that’s what his whole fuckin’ life had been. Forced to do what needed to be done, usually just to survive. Now it was for different reasons.

The apparition pulled in tight, not needed. It was content with his decision, feeling to him like it thought returning to her was right, like going home.