There had been a moment, at the end, when he could have taken the prize. Could have cut down the grief-stricken man sitting on that big, uncomfortable chair-throne. Could have done as Dame Vaako wanted, as she had flattered, persuaded, him he wanted. The triple-bladed halberd was in his hands, Riddick focussed on the small figure dead at his feet.
He didn't.
Distantly aware of his wife's despairing shriek, he'd knelt instead, the legion behind him following suit, pledging allegiance to the new Lord Marshal.
You keep what you kill. Riddick - Riddick, not Vaako - had, ultimately, killed the Lord Marshal, the ultimately-fearful, unworthy ex-Lord Marshal. It was his right to keep the title.
Until someone took it from him.
And what of Vaako, First among Commanders - First only because the ex-Lord Marshal believed he had killed Riddick on that hideous, monstrous world. If he'd only braved the heat a little longer, waited to see the body incinerated by the sunrise...
Riddick should have died. He should have died.
But he had not, and Vaako now knelt, self-accused of treason towards his ruler, his religion - his reason for being. By all rights, Riddick should kill him now.
Vaako deserved nothing less. And nothing more. When Riddick came to himself, he would know this, and act accordingly.
Dame Vaako would not miss her husband, not really. All she truly desired was power. She'd insinuate herself into Riddick's bed like the snake she so resembled in those shamelessly tight-fitting, dull gold and silver-scaled dresses she so liked - the only woman amongst the Necromongers who wore anything but black or darkest grey.
Dame Vaako liked to draw attention. She felt she deserved it, for her beauty, her intelligence, her ambition. Her willingness to do anything that was needed to achieve her aims.
He told himself he would not miss her. Theirs had been a hollow show of a marriage for far too long.
He'd forgotten how to feel, except on a most superficial level. Purification took away the sensation of pain - but it also dulled everything else. Love, desire, lust, anger, none of them mattered to a Necromonger.
Rightly so. The business of the Necromongers was to cleanse or convert their universe in preparation for the Underverse. Nothing else mattered - in the grand scheme of things.
He had wondered, occasionally, if that were so, why they took consorts, partners. Habit, perhaps, a hangover from the ancient days? For stress relief? Sex? They bore no children, so it could not be for heredity's sake. He had remained with his wife because it was easier thus than trying to leave her, and her passion sometimes made him feel almost alive...
All an act, of course. Her passion was a cold, unfeeling dedication to herself when she wasn't manipulating him, and for such a strong man he was, he knew, curiously passive. He'd allowed her to dictate so much of their lives, not objected to her demanding he grew that band of hair long, despite the fact he'd always shaved it off before meeting her. Although he had to admit it was more comfortable under his helmet than naked scalp. She'd wanted it so styled because, she said, it reminded her of the mane of a stallion, a powerful, noble animal native to an almost forgotten world long ago and far away. The simile had pleased him, vaguely, to start with, then he'd grown accustomed to it, almost forgotten it, and when he finally discovered that humans rode stallions as transport, used them as dumb beasts of burden, his annoyance at his wife's veiled insult was mitigated by his realisation that yes, it was apt. She rode him, goading him in the direction she wanted him to go, and had him carry her along for the ride.
It was too much effort to be angry over something so inconsequential. It didn't really matter.
She would be angry. She would be furious that he'd failed. That she was not now the wife of the Lord Marshal. She would try to rectify that as soon as it was possible. Perhaps disguised as an attempt to console Riddick after the girl's death. That Riddick found her beautiful she knew. Or thought she did: Vaako wasn't so sure. Riddick was a lot more subtle than he first appeared.
Vaako found himself hoping that Riddick was not so easily deceived as to believe the woman could be trusted, let alone be a fit consort for a Lord Marshal...
Riddick had cancelled the destruction of Helion Prime.
This was, thought Vaako, probably symptomatic of the Necromonger way under the new Lord Marshal. Riddick did not share their beliefs - quite what he did believe Vaako didn't want to consider, but it was probably true that world-killing wasn't part of it. Much was going to change, of that they could be sure.
Vaako found himself pacing, a few steps back and forth across the floor of their quarters, his armour shed and the lights dimmed. The rooms he and his wife had called theirs for the last... how many years had it been? He'd forgotten. It sometimes felt that they had always been together.
She wasn't here. Riddick had ordered the cancellation of the Final Protocol, ordered the body of the dead Lord Marshal removed, then picked up the girl's body, holding it gently where he sat on the edge of the throne. He'd dismissed them all, abruptly, harshly, and they'd silently filed out of the vast hall, not knowing what else to do.
Dame Vaako hadn't returned to their rooms. He couldn't bring himself to be concerned as to her whereabouts...
This strange, pregnant calm couldn't last for long. At some point very soon Riddick was going to realise the power he now held, and come seeking vengeance. No matter that the girl had come to Helion Prime of her own will, no matter that she'd made the choice, if choice it could be called, since the alternative was to die in the firestorm or by the Necromongers' hands - it was Vaako's ship that had transported her from Crematoria, Vaako who had delivered her to the Lord Marshal.
Riddick wouldn't forgive him for that. Dame Vaako had reported the very interesting results of her 'conversation' with the Elemental, that Furyans would bow to no-one, would not be beaten. Killed, yes, perhaps, but never concede defeat. Vaako had seen the evidence of that on Crematoria, watched with a certain awe as Riddick and the girl had fought against wholly overwhelming odds, fought in a way he'd never seen before, fought as though they were one creature. One magnificent, powerful, invincible creature.
He'd felt an absurd surge of an unfamiliar emotion. Jealousy, he thought it was. Admiration for the skill, the ferocity, the grim determination with which they'd battled - and jealousy. Why had he been jealous?
He paused and frowned. Why? And of what? Not Riddick, he was sure: the Furyan's powerful physique and vicious twisting, turning combat style would be easily countered by Vaako's greater speed and strength and his coldly analytical mind.
Perhaps it was the passion the Furyan brought to the fight. Yes, he'd fought because he had no choice - it had been win or die. But... it seemed to Vaako that he exulted in the battle, despite the grim circumstances.
No, not a passion for fighting. It was more than that. He brought a passion to everything he did, an understated intensity, a depth of feeling that Vaako couldn’t remember ever knowing. The way he'd moved with the girl... there'd been a deep attachment there, that much was obvious from his reaction to her death. And they'd moved as one...
A sharp, stinging pain to his face. He blinked, then frowned down at his lividly furious wife, whose hand was raised to slap him again.
"You fool!"
He caught her wrist before her palm could impact with his cheek, not because it caused him distress - what pain he could feel was trifling - but because he was suddenly weary of her abuse, her deceit, her relentless, endless taunting attempts for him to 'better himself'. She snarled at him as she tried to twist her hand free.
"You had it all within your grasp. You could have reached out and taken it. Killed him. Been Lord Marshal!" Her voice was high, almost screeching, and he winced imperceptibly. Her other hand came up, fast, clawing bleeding scratches down his cheek before he caught that wrist as well, holding them both away from his body as she tried to kick him, the tightness of her dress the only thing restraining her. He stared down at her, seeing her as something alien as she spat at him. When had she changed from the beautiful, delicate little creature he'd first met into this shrieking violent harpy?
Sickened, he thrust her away from him and turned his back.
"I could not."
He flinched as she leapt onto his back, fingers aimed at his eyes as her teeth sank into his neck, over the Purification mark, skirt shoved up around her thighs and legs wrapped around his waist, one booted foot pressing hard against his groin. Gripping her hands, ignoring the nails tearing into his skin, he twisted and flung her onto the bed, where she sprawled back on her elbows and glared at him with helpless fury - before lashing out in a kick that caught him squarely between the legs. He grunted and stepped back, forcing himself not to double over. Purification dulled most pain, yes, but that was close to agonising.
"You are useless!" she hissed between gritted teeth. He eyed her coldly, then bowed his head perfunctorily.
"Then I will relieve you of my presence, Dame Vaako."
He turned and strode from the room, ignoring her screamed demands for him to come back at once, and made his way down to the ship's lower levels, pacing the dark corridors without noticing where he was going, wanting only to outdistance his thoughts...
The call came some time later - how much later he could not tell. The order for him to come to the Lord Marshal's office. Rubbing a hand over his eyes - how long had it been since he last slept? - he made his way back to the ship's upper levels, refusing to think of what might be about to happen.
Riddick was alone in the room, sprawled on a chair, strange silvered eyes glinting in the muted light as he gazed up at the Commander. For long moments they regarded each other, Riddick impassive but intent, Vaako resigned, then the Furyan gestured to an adjacent chair.
"Sit."
Hesitantly, but with a measure of relief - it would appear he'd been pacing all night and well into the following day, everything was vaguely aching - Vaako gingerly seated himself and gazed at the Lord Marshal. Riddick held still, seeming relaxed, but there was a wariness to him, as though he expected the Commander to attack.
"You look tired."
Vaako blinked: it was the last thing he'd expected to hear. Riddick flashed a quick, tight smirk.
"D'you ever see the sun? You look like a corpse." He leaned forward suddenly, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air soundlessly. "Least you don't smell dead."
Floundering, Vaako opened his mouth, but found he had nothing to say. Riddick flicked a finger in the direction of his cheek.
"She give you those?"
Vaako's hand came up to touch the long, scabbed scratches down his cheek - he'd forgotten about them while he'd been aimlessly walking. He nodded once, and Riddick's lips quirked.
"Yeah, I kinda figured she'd be the scratchin' type. She bit you too."
Vaako had also forgotten about that. He pressed a hand to his neck, feeling a throb of pain from the Purification scar: his wife's teeth had broken the skin at the edge, and the area was surprisingly sore. Riddick tilted his head to one side.
"You wanna get that seen to?"
Vaako shook his head. It wasn't worth the effort: both injuries would be healed in a few days. Assuming he was still alive by then.
"Lord Marshal..."
"Riddick." The Furyan interrupted. "Just Riddick."
Vaako nodded and took a deep breath.
"I will accept any punishment you see fit to give."
The Furyan eyed him coolly.
"Yeah, you will. So what do you think I'm gonna punish you for?"
"I take responsibility for your... companion's death."
"Why? You didn't kill her."
"I brought her here."
"Not anybody could make Ja... Kira do somethin' she didn't wanna do. Far's I see it, if she'd stayed there, she'd be just as dead. With you, she could'a escaped if she got the chance." He shrugged, but Vaako could somehow sense the effort it took him to remain impassive. "Was worth the risk."
Not knowing what to say, Vaako stayed silent. Riddick sighed and gazed at him.
"Now what am I gonna do with you?"
The Commander bowed his head.
"Death is the usual recompense for traitors."
"Really. I'd'a thought your lot woulda rewarded you. Seems like the sorta thing they'd do. You keep what you kill, as you say."
"My intention was to kill the Lord Marshal - and I believed I had already killed you."
"Well, I don't hold that against you. This time, anyway. Next time, I'll probably kill you. So don't try it again, 'less you really wanna die."
Vaako stared, bewildered. This was not going at all the way he had expected.
"Let your hair down."
"My... what?"
Riddick gestured negligently to the Commander's head.
"Your hair. Let it down."
Now wholly confused, Vaako reached hesitantly to the back of his head, pulling off the beads that held the braids in place and clumsily unplaiting the long strands. As each came loose it dropped to either side of his head, falling a little stiffly around his face. Riddick nodded, then reached to take a lock into his hands, rubbing it between his fingers.
"You should wash this crap off."
The 'crap', presumably, was the lotion that held it in place. Why Riddick would care about such a thing was completely beyond Vaako.
"I had thought to shave it off."
The Lord Marshal raised an eyebrow.
"Nah, don't want you to do that."
"You... but... why?"
"Wouldn't want any of your lot thinkin' you were me. Or I was you."
Vaako blinked: there was no way in this world or any other that they could be confused for each other. He was about to point this out when he noticed the odd amused shimmer in the strange silvered eyes, and lowered his head.
"As you desire, Lord... Riddick."
He nearly gasped as warm strong fingers slid under his chin, pushing his head upwards: he jerked back, glaring at the Furyan. Riddick nodded.
"G'wan, get out of here. Take a bath or whatever you people do, then get some sleep. I want you back here in ten hours, and I want you awake, not a walking corpse. And leave the hair down."
Vaako rose, only then realising quite how exhausted he was. Bowing his head respectfully, he strode from the office, only then remembering his wife would still be in their quarters... Well, nothing else for it, all his belongings were there...
But hers weren't. In the time that he'd been gone the room had been emptied of everything that had proclaimed her presence. Too tired to be curious, he'd showered, carefully washed the lotion from his hair, then fallen onto the bed and into a deep and thankfully soothing sleep...
He felt strange when he awoke, rested, yes, but unusually cool - he'd slept naked for the first time in a long time, and had been too exhausted to climb under the light coverlet - and there was something against his face that felt very odd. Soft, but strange. He brushed it away from his eyes, belatedly realising it was his hair, freed from the plaits he'd worn for the past... however many years it had been. He ran his fingers through it, surprised by the pleasant smoothness, then hauled himself to a sitting position. Seven hours. He'd slept solidly for seven hours - longer than in a long time, years quite likely. It was peaceful here without his wife. Peaceful without her voice, nagging or cajoling or complaining. The silence was most enjoyable.
He padded to the shower, relishing the warm water, then spent a few minutes wondering what to do with his hair. Riddick had ordered him not to cut or shave it, and to leave it loose, which was all very well and good, but it flopped over his face as well as to each side of his head, and reached well below his shoulders. He wondered if tying it back might be acceptable, then reluctantly decided not - Riddick had specified 'loose'. Well, if it was appropriate he'd ask the Lord Marshal, later, if he might do something to keep it out of his way...
In the meantime, there was no harm in appearing willing by arriving early. Perhaps Riddick would agree to tell him what this was all about.
Riddick eyed the Commander, pleased and a little surprised to note he'd done as ordered: Riddick was still unused to being obeyed, and he wasn't at all sure Vaako was that practised at following orders...
He looked better, still far too pale, but the dark shadows beneath his eyes were a little smaller, and those scratches were almost healed. The bite looked inflamed, but didn't seem to be giving him grief. Most of all he looked a lot more relaxed, but then, a night without that slut of a wife of his would work wonders.
And with that hair framing his face... pretty. Very pretty. Strange for a man to be so pretty and still look like a man. This could be very interesting indeed.
Riddick inclined his head and indicated a small table covered with dishes of foodstuffs.
"Eat."
Halfway to the table Vaako realised he'd fallen into the habit of obeying Riddick without question frighteningly quickly. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that - though admittedly Riddick was a lot easier to obey than the previous Lord Marshal had been. He served himself a small plate of mixed flatbread and the uniform protein blocks that were standard Necromonger fare, then joined Riddick at the holodisplay: the Furyan had been tracking the Necromonger advance across the galaxy if what was currently floating in three dimensions before him was correct.
"Nestor 4."
Riddick flicked him a glance.
"How long ago?"
"Ten years. No, your pardon. Eleven."
Riddick nodded absently.
"You been a Commander all that time?"
Vaako shook his head, causing a heavy lock of hair to fall across his eyes: irritably he brushed it back.
"I was a Captain then. I progressed to Commander four years later."
"Hm. And then First among Commanders."
Vaako swallowed and regarded the Furyan with outward calm.
"That honour was awarded for killing you on Crematoria. No doubt you will wish to rescind it."
"I dunno. D'you think I should?"
Vaako stared at the Lord Marshal, once again bewildered. Dammit, why couldn't the man act more like a Necromonger?!
"That... is not my place to say, Riddick."
The Furyan smirked.
"No, it's not. I like a man who knows his place."
Not knowing how to respond, Vaako took refuge in eating a little more, watching Riddick circumspectly as the Furyan tracked further back on the holodisplay.
"Might I ask what you're looking for?"
"Jus' wondering where the Necros came from, first."
Vaako considered the question for a moment, then shook his head, brushing back another strand of hair: this was going to become annoying very quickly, he could tell.
"Asylum, I believe. Though whether that is the home world or just a place on it I do not know. They - we - have been moving across the stars for a very long time."
"Interesting. Where are you from?"
Vaako lowered his eyes.
"I have forgotten."
"Really?"
"... yes..." It was whispered, and for the first time since his conversion Vaako regretted the loss of the memory. He'd been so young when he was taken. Riddick shrugged.
"Don't matter where you come from. S'what you do that matters, what you make of your life. Death, in your case."
Vaako bit back a comment pertaining to Riddick's life, killer and convict that he was as far as the galaxy was concerned - after all, who was he to judge, he who'd killed far more than Riddick could ever hope to do? The Furyan eyed him narrowly.
"So - what am I gonna do with you?"
The question was becoming unnerving. Vaako inclined his head.
"What do you intend to do with the Necromonger armada? My fate would seem to be bound up with that."
Riddick smirked.
"You think so? Well, maybe it is."
There was a somewhat strained silence as Vaako tried to work out what Riddick had meant, then the Furyan took pity on him.
"OK, I'll put you outta your misery. I need someone to tell me what the fuck is going on with your people, what these things" he waved a hand vaguely towards the ceiling "all mean, who everyone is and how they think. And I want you to do it."
Vaako frowned.
"Why me?"
"'cause you owe me."
Vaako blinked.
"What?"
"I could'a killed you. Still could. But you're more useful alive. You stay alive, you keep the First among Commanders title - if you want it - and you tell me where I'm goin' wrong."
Vaako stared at the Furyan, not sure whether to be honoured, insulted or simply aghast. Or maybe all three.
"Riddick... I'm not sure..."
"Can you do it? If not, better say now so I can kill you and cut myself a better deal."
Vaako couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled - he wasn't at all sure he'd ever actually laughed - but he felt the slight tugging at his lips, a small, dry, wry expression of appreciation. There seemed to be no artifice to Riddick. Nothing fake at all. The Furyan's blunt pragmatism and honesty was - refreshing didn't come close. Terrifying was better. But whichever word you chose, Vaako found himself responding with an eagerness that alarmed him. He nodded an affirmative, and the Furyan's lips quirked in what could have been a smile.
There was, Vaako thought, something about Riddick that was very attractive.
Vaako slumped back on the bed and laid his arm over aching eyes, sighing quietly and wondering if he'd perhaps taken on more than he could handle. Riddick was... demanding, and he never seemed to need sleep. Not that Vaako was used to sleeping that much himself, but Riddick... The man was indefatigable...
... and he wanted to know everything, and what Vaako couldn't tell him the Commander had to find out, since the Furyan didn't seem to trust anyone else. It wasn't entirely clear whether he actually trusted Vaako, but he listened, and acted on the Commander's advice - for the most part, anyway - and seemed to believe what he was told.
For his part, Vaako made sure he was absolutely scrupulous in his dealings with the Lord Marshal. Riddick was a strong leader, quite possibly the strongest the Necromongers had ever had, and it was in everyone's best interest if he knew exactly how they operated. Even if, so far, he'd refused to allow any more converts to be made. But that, Vaako pointed out to the other Commanders, was because he didn't yet understand their religion. He hadn't seen the Underverse, hadn't approached the Threshold and glimpsed the perfection that awaited them. Hadn't been Purified. He didn't know.
Toal had glowered at Vaako.
"Then why aren't you teaching him?"
Vaako gazed around at the assembled Commanders. They were restive, as were the captains under them, and the troops under them. At present they had no purpose, and the inactivity made them ill-at-ease.
"I am instructing him. But it is not an easy task."
In fact, it looked as though it was going to prove impossible. It was certainly thankless. And Riddick kept asking questions that he couldn't answer, such as - other than the Lord Marshal's word, what proof did they have that the Underverse existed? Had anyone else ever seen it - other than when being Purified, of course, and how could they trust a body and mind in pain to see anything clearly? Exasperated, Vaako had accused the Furyan of having no faith in anything. Riddick had raised his hands, palms upwards.
"I have faith in these." He raised his right hand to touch his head. "And in this. The rest of the universe can go fuck itself."
Vaako shook his head, bewildered and angry that the Furyan wouldn't try to understand.
"Human life is a mistake, one that we are tasked to rectify. The human race is fractured, split into endlessly-promulgating false cults and creeds. We offer the only true religion, the only true peace."
"You know that for a fact, do you?"
"I have faith."
"You're a fuckin' idiot."
Vaako bristled, fists clenched. Riddick smirked.
"Yeah, come on. Explain it to me. Prove it to me."
Vaako reined in his anger, took a deep breath.
"If you will approach the Threshold - as the Lord Marshals have done in the past - you will know it for yourself."
The Furyan snorted.
"And come back half dead? Fuck that."
"Don't you want to know perfection when you die?"
Riddick laid a hand on the Commander's shoulder and leaned forward slightly: Vaako forced himself not to pull back.
"Well, now, y'see, I prefer to enjoy my time here, while I'm still alive, than put any faith in something I can't prove." He gestured downwards. "Whole planet here, all worshippin' different gods - or maybe the same god with different names, I don't know, don't care - who's to say they're wrong and you're right?"
"... I have faith..."
The silver eyes regarded him impassively, and Vaako had the strangest feeling he'd failed some kind of test. Riddick quirked an eyebrow and pulled his hand back, turning to frown at the holodisplay.
"Gotta find somethin' for you dead fuckers to do."
"We should continue with the holy mission."
"No."
"Riddick..."
"Not gonna happen. Let 'em all go to hell their own way - not yours."
"... Then what would you have us do?"
"Dunno. Still thinkin' about it..."
Vaako stretched, the silky texture of the bed cover smooth against his naked skin, and rubbed tired eyes. Three days later Riddick still hadn't decided what he was going to do. Tensions amongst the Purified were growing, fights were breaking out on a regular basis. The other Commanders were becoming increasingly hostile towards Vaako, blaming him for Riddick's lack of action.
And there was another problem, Vaako realised. Much as he tried to deny it, Riddick's lack of belief was forcing him to question his own faith...
Riddick smirked at him as he entered the office.
"Not pushin' you too hard, am I?"
Vaako glowered, then took a deep breath and smoothed his features into a passivity he was beginning to find hard to maintain. Riddick watched him for a moment then indicated a nearby chair.
"Got an idea. Want to know what you think."
Vaako didn't need to speak. He seated himself and listened warily.
"We're gonna go visit this Underverse of yours."
The Commander stared: Riddick shrugged.
"It's the only way I'll believe." He gestured to the holodisplay. "Path's here, all mapped out. All we gotta do is follow it."
Yes, it had been mapped out, but in such a way as to visit and purify each of the known planets on which humanity had a foothold as they passed, so that by the time the armada reached the Threshold there would be no humans left except those who had converted. It was fairly obvious that Riddick wanted to go straight there, leaving the human worlds untouched.
"And how will you keep the people occupied? They can't spend all their time in cryosleep."
Riddick smirked.
"They like to fight. We'll let 'em fight each other."
Which wasn't a bad idea - it would serve to keep the legions occupied and in a state of combat readiness, and the rest, well, they'd continue doing what they always did, he supposed.
"They will protest. This goes against our faith."
"Let 'em. They'll still get what they want - a nice cosy berth in the Underverse. If it's real. They just don't get to kill anyone else on the way."
"But the creed is that all the scattered tribes of man must be unified - purified - before all can enter Underverse!"
The Furyan eyed him narrowly. Yes, as Lord Marshal, Riddick now effectively ruled the Necromongers - but that didn't mean they'd obey him without question. Their loyalty was to the faith, and the leader of the faith, not necessarily to Riddick. Which meant he might need to make changes gradually.
"I'm changin' the script. No more converts 'til I'm sure the Underverse exists."
Vaako stared, lips parted - then inclined his head pensively.
Well, why not? The previous six Lord Marshals had all added their own interpretations to the Necromonger creed. Riddick had won the title fairly: he was entitled to his say. And who was to say he wasn't right? That he hadn't been sent to test their faith?
Vaako thought, with time and a lot of effort, he could probably convince at least some of the Commanders to accept Riddick's orders without screaming 'blasphemy'. Though it wouldn't be easy, and it wouldn't make either Riddick or himself any less unpopular...
It was with considerable relief that the Commanders scheduled an ongoing series of tourneys, to take place both on the ships and on the less heavily populated planets they were to visit on the way across the 'verse. Though as Vaako had predicted they weren't very happy about the change of direction.
And Vaako found himself becoming more and more isolated.
He'd not been overly popular before - not that popularity or friendship was of any great interest to a Necromonger - but at least he'd had the companionship of his equals. Now...
People came to him when they wanted something - information, a favour, the Lord Marshal's ear - but not otherwise. He could no longer find anyone to spar with, except for reluctant members of the rank and file, who were no real contest. And his relationships with his peers were strained.
He assumed it was because he was so deep in Riddick's confidence. They feared him, found him strange, were afraid of what he might report back to the Furyan. He knew the last Lord Marshal had never fully trusted him: now it seemed that no-one did.
He refused to admit to loneliness.
Though there were times he even missed his wife.
Dame Vaako... It appeared she had moved into a luxurious suite several levels away from their shared quarters and was still trying, albeit in a most circuitous manner, to attach herself to the new Lord Marshal. Vaako had been woken from a restless sleep by Commander Prilin needing higher authority for a serious disciplinary matter, one that required Riddick's intervention: he'd made his way to the Lord Marshal's suite, requested and been granted entry as usual - to find his wife there, sitting at Riddick's feet, gazing up adoringly. Too weary to feel anything but disgust, he'd ignored her and delivered the message: Riddick had risen from his seat with some alacrity, scribed an order, handed it to Vaako then requested, in an undertone, that the Commander return as soon as it had been delivered.
Vaako had bowed his head, delivered the order, then made his way reluctantly back to the Lord Marshal's rooms.
Dame Vaako was still there, eyeing him with obvious loathing. Riddick glanced between them and sighed.
"Didn't wanna have to interfere, but I'm gonna anyway." He turned to the woman. "You wanna keep him?"
She opened her mouth, then paused, considering the repercussions and ramifications as usual, Vaako thought. After a few minutes she shook her head, lips quirking in an unpleasant smile.
"No. I have no wish to stay leashed to a traitor."
Against all reason and common sense the words hit Vaako hard. He clenched his fists, keeping his expression impassive, and nodded.
"And I have no wish to restrict my wife's... desires."
Riddick eyed them both closely for long moments, then growled softly.
"OK. You're no longer married. Your bond is broken. Or cut. Dissolved. Whatever the fuckin' word is." He smirked unpleasantly at the woman.
"I think you're fuckin' stupid, but if that's what you want..."
She smiled ferally, and he raised a hand.
"One thing. You ever try to hurt Vaako, or have someone else try to hurt him, you're dead. Slowly and painfully and... not in your 'due time'. Understand?"
Suddenly tight-lipped, she nodded and bowed her head.
"Thank you, my Lord."
He waved a hand negligently and turned to Vaako, scrutinising his face.
"You OK?"
Ignoring the awful hollow feeling inside, the Commander nodded, lowering his head, for once grateful for the hair that partly obscured his face.
"Thank you, Riddick."
"Hm." The Lord Commander frowned, unconvinced, but also well aware by now that it was almost impossible to drag anything out of Vaako. Surprise it from him, yes; force it - no. He sat back with a silent sigh.
"OK. You can both go. Vaako, I need you back here in three hours. That give you long enough to rest?"
The Furyan was very aware of the suddenly jealous, calculating look the woman bestowed upon her ex-spouse. Heh. Just when was the last time anyone had shown any consideration for the man, anyway? He flashed her a quick frown.
"You can go."
Expression morphing effortlessly from resentful to happy, the woman bowed deeply and sauntered out of the suite, hips swaying seductively. Vaako watched her go, trying to hide the hurt he knew showed in his face.
How little he meant to her - to anyone...
A strangely gentle hand brushed his hair back from his face, and glowing eyes regarded him narrowly.
"Get some sleep. And that's an order."
Nodding, Vaako made his way wearily back to his quarters.
Time passed - eight days, then twelve. Vaako continued to advise the Lord Marshal, his days spent at Riddick's side, his nights alternating between exhausted sleep and restless sleeplessness, pacing his quarters or sometimes the lofty corridors of the ship, his mind a roiling mass of apprehension. His solitude - his loneliness - increased.
As did his doubts.
He'd never really questioned his existence before - it simply was, this was how things were. Acceptance, faith, loyalty and blind obedience to the Necromonger way, these things had constrained his life, made thinking unnecessary.
Riddick had changed all that. And Vaako couldn't cope with the uncertainty.
It felt too much like freedom.
"You're doin' it again."
Vaako halted and glanced at Riddick, who was leaning back against a post with his arms crossed.
"Doing what?"
"Pacing. You're like a fuckin' caged animal. What's the problem?"
The Commander forced himself to sit, hands gripping the arms of the chair as inconspicuously as he could.
"Nothing."
"Yeah right." Riddick strode purposefully to stand behind the chair, hands coming to rest heavily on Vaako's shoulders, holding him firmly in place: the Commander froze, eyes widening in alarm. "Tense. That ain't good for you."
"I know." Vaako growled through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the warmth of those hands, telling himself he should pull away but not sure he had the strength. For a brief moment he thought he felt fingers kneading his shoulders, then the hands were withdrawn and Riddick was half-crouching in front of him, eye to silvered eye, one side of his mouth lifted wryly.
"You need to let off steam. Come with me."
He rose and strode towards door. Puzzled, Vaako followed, walking at the Furyan's shoulder to an expansive, dimly-lit chamber, empty at present, several levels down. Once inside Riddick turned to the Commander, one hand gesturing to the open space.
"Been a while for me too. So I'll go easy on ya."
Vaako gazed at the space, then frowned at Riddick.
"You want me to fight you?"
There was an odd amused gleam in the Furyan's eyes.
"You got a better way of relievin' tension?"
"I... suppose not." Though the thought of injuring Riddick gave him pause... then again, the Lord Marshal was a very proficient fighting machine, and Vaako now somewhat out of practice. "Very well."
"Good." Riddick moved out into the centre of the space - backwards, not taking his eyes off the Commander - and settled into a loose-limbed, fluid fighting stance. "C'mon then."
It was entirely different to fighting with one of his own people, Vaako thought distantly, hauling himself up from the floor for the third time. He'd expected to have to use only half-strength blows to avoid injuring the Lord Marshal, but Riddick was fast, and very tough, and had snarled angrily at him for 'going too easy'. And the Furyan was brutal, even without using any of his bladed weapons: if Necromongers felt pain to any degree Vaako would have been writhing on the ground by now. But he was beginning to get the measure of the Furyan, beginning to anticipate his moves...
Riddick was enjoying himself. It was obvious Vaako was more used to using a weapon than his body to fight, but the Commander still had a lot of skill - even if it was more sledgehammer than scalpel - and he was very fast, and very strong. And he learned quickly, blocking and dodging Riddick's blows more and more easily, and landing more of his own all the time...
"May we stop for a moment?" Vaako's hands were up, palms out, and Riddick pulled back from the punch he had aimed at his opponent's midsection.
"What's the problem? Too much for ya?"
"No." The Commander shoved his hair back from his face irritably. "I must ask your permission to tie this back. It's obstructing my view."
Riddick nodded, watching pensively as Vaako ripped a strip from the bottom of the tunic he wore, yanking long black strands of hair into a tail at the nape of his neck and tying the material firmly. That outfit looked hot, and restricted movement...
"Y'know, if we're gonna do this again, you should get yourself something lighter to wear."
Vaako stared at the Furyan's vest, then down at the thick, heavy tunic and trousers on his own body. While excellent to wear under armour, it really wasn't designed for hand-to-hand combat. He nodded - then realised what Riddick had said.
"Again?"
"Yeah. You're pretty good, but you could be better. You wanna be better?"
He considered the idea for a moment, then sighed silently. He had nothing better to do.
"Yes."
"Good." Riddick struck without warning, smirking when Vaako easily parried the blow. "Good..."
Vaako slept well that night.
"We're leavin'. Tomorrow. We've outstayed our welcome."
"We were never welcome."
Riddick raised an eyebrow.
"Figure of speech." He leaned back in his seat and eyed Vaako appraisingly. "It's time to go. Tell the troops."
"It might be a good idea if you were to tell them yourself."
"Mm. Maybe." Riddick glanced up as a decoratively-dressed woman entered. She smiled hesitantly before placing a tray of... was that food?... on the small table between the two men. Riddick nodded curtly as she bowed and exited the room, then waved a hand at the plates. "Help yourself."
Vaako stared. There were fruits, and native vegetables, and local delicacies...
"What is this?"
Riddick took a large, golden-coloured fruit and bit into it, swallowing before answering.
"Food. Real stuff, not that crap you eat."
"But... it is not fitting for Necromongers."
"Your 'faith' stop you eating?"
Vaako scowled.
"You know it doesn't. But we are not supposed to pamper the body."
"You really are in love with death, ain't ya?"
Vaako growled quietly, offended.
"Physical pleasures are an unnecessary distraction."
"That why your wife was happy to leave you?"
The Commander glared at him.
"My wife had no complaints in that sphere."
"Good fuck, are you?"
"That is none of your business."
Riddick grinned. Baiting Vaako was proving to be a lot of fun.
"I'm making it my business."
"And I choose not to answer."
"If I order you?"
Vaako stood abruptly and leaned forwards, his hands flat on the table.
"This does not involve either the smooth-running of the armada nor your command over the Necromongers. It is personal, and I will not answer."
Riddick shrugged.
"OK. I'll ask her then."
The Furyan's eyes shimmered: Vaako's pale skin was faintly flushed, his eyes narrowed. There was an intense and somewhat dangerous quality to him when he was angry.
"And you think she will tell you the truth?"
"No. But I'll bet she has some interesting names for you and yours."
"No doubt." Pale hands clenched into fists, the face tensed and the dark eyes closed for a second - fighting back a memory, perhaps? - then Vaako was glaring again. "I would imagine you are particularly experienced in such matters. How many women are there in - what is you call it, slam? Or do your tastes run otherwise?"
Riddick rose slowly to his feet, resting on his fists and leaning forwards over the table until his face was a scant handspan from the Commander's.
"We took what we could, when we could." He ran a finger down Vaako's pale cheek, grabbing a lock of hair as the Commander jerked back instinctively and yanking hard as he sat back down, pulling Vaako with him. "We still do."
Was that a warning? A threat? Vaako gripped Riddick's wrist, teeth gritted behind thinned lips.
"Let go."
"Or what?"
"Or - Lord Marshal or no - I'll break your arm."
Hm. Vaako obviously didn't know about Riddick's unique healing ability. No need to enlighten him - not yet, at any rate... The Furyan pulled his hand back, dragging Vaako's arm with it, and sniffed soundlessly at the silky hair still entwined in his fingers. Nice.
"Might just let you try, next time we fight." Riddick loosed the hair, effortlessly twisted his wrist out of Vaako's grasp, picked up the fruit and continued eating as though nothing had happened. "Eat."
"Is that an order?" It was snarled through clenched teeth. Riddick waved a negligent hand.
"No. I just don't want you wastin' away. Be no sort of challenge if you get too skinny."
Vaako stared, at a loss for words for a moment. There was a term for Riddick, he knew... mercurial, that was it. Like trying to hold liquid mercury - it just slid through your fingers. How were you supposed to deal with such a man? He took a couple of deep breaths and forced himself to relax. Riddick was, after all, the Necromonger Lord Marshal, and he was first and always a Necromonger Commander and Riddick's aide. Obedience without question. Loyalty until Underverse come.
At least for the moment...
Reluctantly, he picked up a small blue fruit, placing it on his tongue then biting into it, surprised by the sudden burst of sweetness and reaching for another.
"Good?"
He glanced at the Furyan, not surprised to see Riddick eyeing him with that usual measured silvered gaze, and nodded. The corner of Riddick's mouth lifted.
"Good. You're gonna be eating more of it. We're gonna be stayin' awake longer than the others."
"Why?"
"I wanna fight some more, learn some more about you, without interruptions."
Well, it had happened before. The old Lord Marshal had always insisted on being the last into cryosleep and the first to awaken when they approached their next target, and on a couple of occasions he'd had the Commanders remain awake with him to discuss the next purification.
"I foresee no problems."
Interesting. Apparently Vaako had understood that 'you' to mean the Necromongers...
"OK." Riddick chewed on something the locals called baclawa, licking the sweet stickiness from his fingers in a way that had Vaako mesmerised until he realised he was staring: he coloured slightly and looked away, to Riddick's silent amusement. "So, when do I address the troops?"
"Immediately prior to leaving. Just before they retire to their cryotubes."
"Anythin' in particular I should say? Wish 'em sweet dreams?"
Vaako stared blankly, then frowned.
"There are no dreams in cryosleep."
Riddick sat back and gazed at the Commander, mentally shaking his head. Did Vaako take everything literally? Maybe Purification removed any sense of humour as well as the awareness of pain.
"You sure about that?"
"Of course..." Vaako's frown deepened. "... I am sure, yes..."
"Because not everything shuts down in cryo."
The Commander eyed him for a moment, then sighed.
"And no doubt you are going to enlighten me."
Riddick smirked.
"Nah. Work it out for yourself."
"You are... aggravating."
Riddick stretched, expression smug.
"Makin' a hobby of it." he leaned forwards, elbows on the small table. "There any way we can get rid of those dead things?"
By now Vaako understood Riddickese.
"The Quasi-deads? They are our only means of communication between ships."
"Only?"
"Yes. They've never failed us."
"Fuckin' sick."
Vaako shrugged.
"It is their choice to exist in such a state. And they are very useful." One corner of his lips quirked, a broad grin for him. "Although it wouldn't be my first choice of career."
"But not a good idea to dump 'em. OK. But I don't want 'em ever diggin' around in anyone else's head."
"You killed one of the specialised ones. Four are not enough to perform regression."
"Good." He stretched then rose to his feet. "Let's put the troops to bed..."
Vaako instinctively moved stealthily, silently along the corridors. The ship was eerie when everyone was in cryo - too quiet, too still. It brought out the hunter in him.
They'd left the Helion system three days ago, autopilots set for the next world on their new itinerary, a fertile agrarian planet the natives called Forest a hundred ship-days away: Riddick planned to restock the food supplies there.
A dark figure leapt out of the shadows, knocking him off his feet: in a second he was flat on his back with Riddick sitting on his groin, hands holding his arms against the cold hard floor.
"Sloppy, Vaako. Very sloppy."
The Commander went limp for a moment - then tensed and flipped, reversing their positions.
"Maybe. But I recover quickly."
He was unprepared for the ferocity with which Riddick responded, shoving him up and back and slamming a fist into his abdomen. The pain was distant, but the blow winded him. He hauled himself raggedly to his feet, gasping, and dropped into a defensive stance.
"I thought... we were going... to the hall..."
"You don't like surprises?"
"That depends on... the surprise..." Vaako lunged for the Furyan, the two strong bodies colliding in a tangle of arms and legs.
The fight was short and nasty, and ended with both of them battered and panting. Riddick pulled himself upright and grabbed Vaako's wrist, yanking the pale man to his feet.
"Not too shabby. Let's go eat."
The Commander nodded, dimly aware that the Furyan held his arm fractionally longer than was strictly necessary...
Riddick kept him alert, never knowing quite what was going to happen next, sometimes simply sharing a meal with him, sometimes meeting him in what had become their combat hall, sometimes hunting him through the ship, confronting him unexpectedly. To his startlement Vaako found himself enjoying these contests, and began to reciprocate, slinking silently through the vast ship, trying to take Riddick by surprise - and usually failing: those amazing shimmering eyes saw so much better in the dark than his own human ones. But he relished the challenge, relished the fight, relished being in Riddick's company. The Furyan was a source of fascination.
Neither of them knew much about their origins, which allowed them a sort of common ground, even though their lives had been so different. Their conversations were interesting to Vaako, even if Riddick had a habit of asking awkward questions.
"Can Purification be reversed?"
Vaako frowned at the Lord Marshal over the fruit and meat stuffed pastry he held.
"Why would one want to? Why would one want to go back to feeling all that pain?"
Riddick swallowed the fruit he held, licking his fingers - and incidentally eliciting that strange shivery feeling in the Commander again - then leaned forward slightly.
"So it stops you feeling all pain?"
"Yes... well, for the most part." Vaako inclined his head and tried to explain. "It voids gross pain. We are aware of being injured, but the pain... is more a sensation of pressure than something that actively hurts."
"Hm. Interesting. So do you feel pleasure?"
"Yes. Of a sort." He sighed quietly. "Riddick, you must remember that I was taken when I was six years old. I cannot remember what it was like to feel as a non-convert."
Whereas Riddick had been forced to feel too much. He shrugged.
"You did OK for yourself."
Vaako glanced at him, then lowered his eyes to his plate.
"Purification is hard on children."
"Yeah, well, you ain't the only kid's had it hard."
"I know. But mine is the only experience I am intimate with."
Riddick smirked.
"Intimate. Yeah. So tell me your life history."
"There is little to tell. Warrior training, cryosleep, Dame Vaako... It isn't interesting."
"And you don't wanna talk about it."
Vaako gazed directly into his eyes.
"No. Do you want to talk about your life?"
"Nah. Not unless you want to hear about the differences between slams."
"Not really. That life is past now. You are Lord Marshal. Your history is no longer an issue."
"There's any number of mercs who might disagree."
Vaako shrugged minutely.
"You have an army to back you up. I don't think mercenaries are of any real significance any more..."
Fifteen days into the journey the crisis hit.
They'd been sparring this time - learning each other's styles, rather than seriously fighting - stripped down to leggings and vests, barefoot, Vaako's hair tied back: two strong bodies, one cool and pale, the other bronzed and warm, skin sliding on skin as they traded strikes...
Riddick had twisted and caught his partner in a bodyhold, pressing Vaako's back to the wall, the sheer warmth of the Furyan suddenly alarming to the pale man.
Then Riddick's mouth was on his, hot, hungry, tongue flicking at cooler silky skin. Shocked, Vaako gasped, lips parting as Riddick's hot, strong body moulded itself forcefully against his own, the Furyan's tongue sliding inside his mouth, and something hard and hot pressing into his groin...
Vaako shoved Riddick away, as far as he was able - which wasn't very far. Eyes wide in a white face, one hand briefly touching lips that tingled with the force of the kiss, the other... the other formed a fist that smashed without his conscious volition into Riddick's face, sending the Furyan staggering backwards, mouth bleeding.
"What the... the... fuck do you think you're doing!?"
Riddick grin was made ghastly by the blood trickling down his chin.
"Well if you don't fuckin' know by now..."
Rage, confusion and a sudden, embarrassing surge of... desire? tumbled through the Commander's mind. He instinctively tensed, ready to fight - then paused. This was Riddick. The Lord Marshal. The man to whom he'd pledged unquestioning loyalty - and obedience. If Riddick wanted him, wanted his body, it was his duty to submit...
The thought filled him with a dreadful warmth. Rubbing at his lips he fled, afraid that if he stayed he'd either fight - or surrender.
In his quarters he paced. Back and forth, back and forth, thoughts whirling.
The fact that they were alone, that if anything were to happen to Riddick he could proclaim himself Lord marshal and no-one would be any the wiser, hadn't even registered until much, much later back in his quarters. He considered the possibility - then discarded it. He didn't want the post. Didn't want the responsibility. Felt no particular desire for the power that went with it.
No, that had nothing to do with how he felt...
It wasn't the first time he'd been... approached by a male. There were more men than women amongst the Necromongers, especially within the warrior caste, and although his looks, strength and status had guaranteed him a female companion - or a male, if he so chose, which he had not, he reminded himself - any time he wished, not all men were so lucky. And some had offered themselves hoping they might find favour with him, use him to further their own careers - a not-uncommon state of affairs.
And on occasion, when he was far from his wife, and aroused from battle or some random incident, he had allowed it, allowed another to kneel before him, take cool rigid flesh into a wet mouth, bring him ease, sucking and licking and drinking down what he gave...
There was no self-reproach in such things, for the giver nor the taker. They simply were. His preference had always been for the female form, but he was not so prejudiced that he would reject the male if there was nothing else on offer. Besides, the male form could be very... attractive, on occasion.
And for the first time he allowed himself to reflect.
Riddick was very attractive. Cleanly built, that bronzed skin sleek over the solid, powerful muscle beneath very appealing. His economy of movement, lithe, precise, almost elegant...
And those extraordinary glowingly silver eyes. They reminded Vaako of an ancient gemstone from an old world, underrated because it was neither rare nor of any particular worth. Moonstone, that was its name. Smooth and silvery but holding a pure blue-white light deep within itself, one that shifted and shimmered depending on how the light caught it.
Beautiful.
Vaako seated himself on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped, frowning at the floor as he tried to put in order his responses to his Lord Marshal.
Riddick knew people, had learned through bitter experience to read them, anticipate their reactions, respond as appropriate. He was willing to admit, to himself, that Vaako intrigued him, had done since they'd first met: the depth of the man's dedication was impressive, and he was attractive - clean, powerful, his face just the male side of beautiful. There was an odd uncertainty to him, too, that the alpha in Riddick found deliciously appealing, that the animal side wanted to exploit, force to submit... Spitting blood and rinsing his mouth with water, Riddick eyed himself in the mirror, almost amused by the rigid erection aching at his groin. Fuck the Necromonger women - or rather, not fuck them, cold, manipulative or submissive bitches that they were. No, Vaako was a challenge, and a prize, and taking him would be sweet, so sweet...
Because one way or another, Riddick was going to take him.
For two days after that Vaako avoided Riddick, haunting his own quarters, almost afraid to leave in case he came face to face with the Furyan before he'd come to terms with what had happened - not just the kiss, not just Riddick's obvious lust, but his own shifting responses.
At the moment there was an... equality between them. Riddick never insisted on being treated with the slavish respect to which his position entitled him, and while neither of them had much concept of the idea of friendship, a companionable fellowship had developed. They were comfortable with each other, it seemed to Vaako; certainly on his part he felt easier with Riddick than he had ever felt with anyone, including his ex-wife. Riddick... respected him? Yes, it was respect, but not because of his position. There seemed to be a genuine liking.
That would all change if they were intimate, no matter how briefly or inconsequentially. Vaako couldn't imagine Riddick accepting anything but the dominant role, and that would, no doubt, spill over into their daily lives, souring their rapport. Not to mention that he would have to force himself to take the subservient role, without fighting. He could do it - obedience without question - but he wouldn't enjoy it.
Or would he? Was he afraid he might enjoy it?
He shook his head, trying to shake away the image of himself pinned to the bed while the Furyan ploughed his body. Would Riddick growl, or be silent? Would he concern himself with Vaako's pleasure, or concentrate on his own? Would he want... what would he want? Would he expect Vaako to suck him? Would he want kisses, touching and stroking, or a straightforward fuck, then back to business?
Would he want it again? Would he want it regularly?
Vaako rubbed his eyes, knowing the only way to find out was to face the Lord Marshal and see what transpired.
It was a further day before he felt sufficiently steady to risk it, however...
Riddick looked up from the table as Vaako requested entrance, then waved at the place laid ready opposite him.
"You're late. Food's getting' cold."
Vaako seated himself warily, glanced quickly at the gently steaming bowl between them - oh, but that smelt good! - then eyed Riddick again.
"You knew I was coming?"
The Furyan ladled some of the thick liquid onto a deep plate and tore a piece of flatbread from the loaf next to the stew.
"Thought you might. Eat. You have ta be hungry."
It had been four days since he'd last fed, and while he'd gone longer without food on occasion, he'd grown accustomed to eating more regularly since Riddick had become Lord Marshal. He spooned out a small portion and dipped a piece of bread into the thick gravy.
It tasted as good as it smelt. Riddick nodded approvingly.
"Soooo..."
Vaako's throat suddenly felt constricted. He swallowed with difficulty and lowered his eyes.
"I cannot be your... whore."
"Don't want you to be."
"You want to own me."
"No."
"What do you want?"
A warm hand cupped his chin, forcing his head back up.
"There ain't a name for what I want."
"There's a name for everything. Consort? Slave? Lover? Casual bedmate?"
"No."
"What then?"
"Partner? Yeah, that comes closest."
"Equals?"
"Yeah."
"How can we be equals? Will you let me... penetrate you?"
A silence, then Riddick shrugged.
"Dunno. Never let anyone get that close before. But you - I trust you. Fuckin' stupid, but I do."
Vaako stared, eyes wide. Well that was an admission he never expected to hear. He nodded slightly.
"I'm honoured."
"So you fuckin' should be. Don't mean to say I'm gonna let you do it first."
Vaako barked a brief laugh.
"No, I didn't expect you would."
Riddick smirked, then his expression turned serious.
"You OK with the idea?"
"I don't know."
"Well, you're not running screamin', at least. Ever done it before?"
"Not to be... on the receiving end, no. You?"
Riddick's expression suddenly became closed, an answer in itself. He hated being trapped, being underneath, Vaako knew that from their fights. And he'd spent a lot of his life in different prisons. It was almost certain he'd learned early, and learned hard. The Commander tentatively stroked a finger down the warm, bronzed skin of his face, pleased when he didn't flinch away.
"I've known little tenderness. Dame Vaako enjoyed a fight, enjoyed roughness. It's all I know. But... I can learn."
Riddick nodded, then smirked.
"At least you won't break."
Vaako lips quirked.
"Neither will you."
"You finished eatin'?"
He'd barely taken four mouthfuls - but this accord between them was fragile, and best taken advantage of while it lingered. They could eat later. He nodded, and Riddick rose to his feet.
"C'mon."
Riddick's bedchamber was dimly-lit, shadowy and warm, the bed large and somehow ominous. Vaako forced himself to walk to the centre of the room, then heeled off his boots as Riddick slid the door closed. Moments later the Furyan was standing before him, hands reaching for his tunic, sliding it from his shoulders.
"Mmm. Pale as I thought." A warm hand pressed firmly against his chest, making him shiver. "Cool's I thought too. You never sweat, do ya?"
"Not often." His voice was surprisingly steady, given how hard his heart seemed to be pounding. Riddick pulled off his own vest and unsnapped the fastenings of his trousers, Vaako hastily following suit. Seconds later both men were naked, and Riddick was running his gaze slowly - lasciviously - over the Commander's frame.
Oh, very nice... Wide shoulders and deep chest, narrow hips, long, leanly muscular arms, longer powerful legs, and between them, nestling in bushy black curls, the heavy cock draped over smoothly rounded balls...
Vaako just had time to appraise the solidly muscular body before him before a warm hand wrapped around his penis, squeezing gently and rhythmically as he rapidly hardened. He gasped, then tentatively reached for Riddick's erection, stroking the hot rigid flesh lightly before taking a firmer grip, startled but pleased by the tiny moan that escaped Riddick. The Furyan gazed at him, eyes glowing in the semi-dark.
"Bed."
He turned, pulling the bemused Vaako bedwards by his cock - not that the Commander was resisting. Once there, Riddick crawled lithely onto the bed, grabbed Vaako's upper arms and dragged him close, breath warm against the Commander's ear.
"I'll try not to hurt."
Vaako's smile was almost wistful.
"You won't. No sense of pain, remember?"
Riddick frowned.
"No pleasure either?"
"... I don't know. I've never done this before..."
Riddick nipped his earlobe.
"Then I'll try to make it good. Never tried before, though, so if I get it wrong..."
"Neither of us will ever know."
The Furyan's eyes glowed intensely for a moment, then Vaako found himself shoved onto his back, thighs pushed widely apart as the head of Riddick's cock pressed against his balls. Vaako took a deep breath and made himself relax as the Furyan took himself in hand, slicking pre-come over himself then centring his penis, pushing forward and inward slowly and steadily, face tight with concentration.
It felt - odd, Vaako though. Vaguely uncomfortable, but less problematic than he'd expected. Riddick's eyes seemed to almost glaze over as he sank balls-deep into his bedmate's cool body - then the Furyan leaned forwards, knees tucked under Vaako's thighs and hands to either side of his head.
"OK?"
Surprised and a little touched by the concern, the Commander nodded - then stifled a yelp as Riddick, with a breathed "... good..." pulled almost all the way out, then shoved sharply back in and began to thrust.
Vaako grabbed broad warm shoulders, anchoring himself against the pounding, distantly amused by the tiny grunts Riddick made on each forceful inward movement. Then the Furyan shifted slightly, driving in more slowly - and Vaako's eyes opened wide as a surge of liquid fire seemed to roll though his body.
"... what...?"
Riddick grinned, teeth white in the muted light.
"Found it."
And Vaako moaned, head rolling back, as Riddick's hips bucked, cock rubbing over something inside that felt like nothing he'd ever felt before, something that sent jolts of pleasure like tiny electric shocks along his spine and into his brain, igniting pretty colours behind his eyes...
Riddick's climax novaed inside him, a deep juddering wet heat that streaked along his nerves and sparked his own orgasm, penis jerking as his back arched, and he clutched Riddick to him, dragging the Furyan's hot body down into a fierce embrace. It was long, long minutes before he came back to reality to find Riddick gazing down at him, expression amused.
"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Lost for words, Vaako cuffed the back of his head. Riddick chuckled and nipped his bedmate's jaw.
"You'll do."
Vaako raised an eyebrow sardonically.
"Why, thank you, my Lord."
Riddick blinked, then smirked wickedly.
"Careful, or I'll start fuckin' ordering you about." He wriggled slightly as his limp cock slid wetly out of Vaako's body, then trailed his fingers through the stickiness cooling on the Commander's abdomen. "Shower. Then food."
"That would be much appreciated." Vaako dragged himself to a seated position, dimly aware of a vague discomfort from his lower body, easily disregarded. Riddick's semen, on the other hand, tickled as it oozed from him. It would be good to bathe.
Re-heating the stew had been the work of a moment, and both men were tucking in heartily, eating in a kind of contented silence...
To his astonishment, Vaako had realised, as Riddick worked soapy hands carefully around and under his genitals and between his buttocks, that none of his fears had been realised. If anything, their camaraderie had been strengthened by the event, as though they'd now seen each other stripped down to the essence and found nothing lacking, the shared experience making their speculative bond stronger. As he in turn washed the Furyan, enjoying the feel of the warm smooth skin against his fingers, he realised further that he was looking forward to the next time...
Warm fingers patted his cheek, and he glanced up to see the silvered eyes regarding him closely.
"You tired?"
Reluctantly, Vaako nodded. He'd barely closed his eyes the last four days and now felt utterly drained. Riddick inclined his head.
"Want to sleep here?"
Vaako gazed at him. Sleep here? Not have to trudge back to his own quarters, to a cold and - he could admit it now - lonely bed? Share Riddick's warmth all night? The idea was delicious, if a little daunting.
He eyed the man sitting opposite: Riddick's expression was carefully neutral, leaving the decision up to him.
Well, he could always make time to consider the repercussions later. Right now...
"If you don't mind."
Riddick grinned.
His last thoughts, before he dropped into a deep sleep, were how comfortable it was, nestling against Riddick's back, and how flattered he was that the Lord Marshal trusted him enough to turn his back, confident that Vaako was protecting him. And that he was looking forward to giving Riddick the same pleasure he'd recently discovered... he'd have to search the physiology database to find out just what that was...
But for now... he sighed and moved a little closer to the warm body beside him, pressing a light kiss to the nape of Riddick's neck. There was much to explore, and plenty of time. Right now they both needed to sleep.
He smiled wearily to himself. But there was always the morning wakening...
© 2006 Sep 4th Joules