Beauty & Cruelty

by Meredith Katz

  Still, after Sixth bowed to her and took his leave, and she shut and locked the door behind them the old-fashioned way—not that it would keep the Cat out if he decided he wanted in, she was sure—she lay back on her bed and closed her eyes and kept thinking it: take what you want.

  Choose what to let go by, and choose what to catch, she thought.

  And she thought, which of these problems are mice?

  *~*~*

  Her castle was no longer much of a home and only felt like less of one the more time passed and the more the visitors settled in to it as their home. She spent more time out and about than she did inside, observing situations as she came across them.

  The humans were largely managing. Not without strain or confusion, but managing nonetheless. She estimated about a thousand of them as of her most recent walk—not a lot perhaps, not in the grand scheme of things. There were high schools with more students. But still a significant number compared to the handful they had before, and growing by the day.

  They were taking care of each other when they found each other, and protecting those they found. Teaching them the rules of this place as they discovered them, helping them find shelter and food, keeping watch. Some were staying away from the Archetypes whenever possible, viewing them as the enemy (and there was a risky business if she'd ever seen one); others seemed to view the Archetypes as just as much at a loss as they were and accepted their aid when offered. That last was the attitude of people with no power of their own. Cruelty suspected their view was more accurate; most of the Archetypes only knew that Talia was trying to save their land.

  Somewhat concerned about this split, she resolved to suggest to Talia they force them all out as soon as possible. It was better to have to go through cycles of new people than to see a situation like this build up with temporary leaders and banded groups that could attack them. Besides, pushing them out as well as pulling them in would keep more of a steady flow and help start rumors outside. So Cruelty walked with an eye out for individuals, to listen to groups as she passed, traveled to check areas she didn't usually travel to see if there were different situations there.

  It was this last that led her into an ogre's territory. She generally preferred to avoid ogres. As with all villain Archetypes, there was a certain possessiveness and pride in regards to comparisons to each other. While she wasn't exactly in denial that she could be horrific and violent and all the rest of that—her name was Cruelty, after all—she had always felt a little disgusted by the blunt brutality of ogres. Their flesh-eating and their treating others as slaves and cattle was just unappealing. As with most bad fairies and enchantresses, Cruelty preferred to make a punishment fit a crime, and if treated with respect, she was just as capable of giving out blessings as a good fairy. Ogres didn't have any variation, in her opinion, and she'd never seen anything indicating otherwise. Their only purpose was to harm and enslave to make their lives easier for themselves. They were monsters with no refinement.

  She could handle them but would rather not have to; she moved carefully as she crept across the land, searching to see how many people were there.

  She only found one.

  The girl was maybe fifteen or sixteen. Not ugly, but not beautiful either; she had a bit of weight on her stomach and hips and the way she held herself showed her discomfort with it. Her hair was long and frizzed out near the scalp. She had heavy-lidded eyes in a nice heart-shaped face. None of her physical traits were necessarily ones that would make her unattractive, but the harrowed fear on her face and the dark circles under her eyes made her seem significantly more haggard.

  Her eyes met Cruelty's, and widened. Still holding the trowel she had been using to dig up beets, she gestured helplessly toward Cruelty, and then to herself.

  Cruelty moved a little closer, pitching her voice low. "What's that? Mute, are you?"

  The girl shook her head, then gestured to herself again, tears gathering in her eyes. Unwilling to speak, rather than unable.

  "Has the ogre clamped your tongue?" Cruelty murmured. "I hope you don't think I'll be helping you–"

  "Please," the girl whispered, and a diamond fell from her mouth, trailing blood.

  So it was that kind of situation. A blessing, but one that surely felt like a curse. Money came from labor and from pain, and this kind of blessing called on that reality. If captured by an ogre and made a slave, she could have all the riches in the world but would no longer be able to use them, only suffer the pain for nothing. "Let me guess," Cruelty said. "You helped an old woman."

  The girl nodded, eyes welling up.

  "If I find her, I'll talk to her about breaking the spell," Cruelty said. "Once you're somewhere you can spend it, it won't be so bad. A choice between breaking your back and fingers and a little bit of pain isn't much of a choice—"

  "No," the girl said, voice hoarse. Rubies and sapphires spilled out, and her tears started to slide down her cheeks more freely. "Not that. I hate this too, but—" She made a choking sound, covering her mouth for a second, then forced herself on. "Please help me get away from here."

  "Ah," Cruelty said. "I'm not—"

  "I'll do anything," the girl said, weeping. "Make me your slave instead of that thing's. I don't care. I don't want to be beaten any more. I ran away in the first place because I didn't want to be beaten anymore!"

  It was rapidly turning into the sort of situation that even Cruelty couldn't turn away from. She found herself thinking that and reevaluated herself quickly. That wasn't it. She'd turned away from similar situations before, but this time she didn't want to. It wasn't charity, exactly; there was a rush of energy tingling through her at the girl's words.

  The girl was begging for help.

  It was impossible not to be drawn to that. Drawn to the sound of begging, drawn to desperation, drawn to someone needing her mercy when she could choose to either grant it or deny it. Everything she was revolved around that concept.

  "Please," the girl said. "Please, I need your help, I can't get away—I've tried, but every time he catches me and hits me harder. I want to do it on my own, but I can't—" These pleas came out as pearls, a softer and less painful gem, hitting her knees, spilling around them, filling her trowel with a light ting ting ting. "He tries to make me cry out now so he can gather the gems, and sends me to work the fields anyway as if I'm not making him rich, I don't even—I don't even know how to garden, and if I damage the vegetables he beats me worse. I saw him kill a man a few days ago, he put him in the stew, and I don't think he'll do it to me as long as I keep getting these jewels but... but I don't know, and what if it stops, what if the spell does break, I—please, I'm so scared!"

  Cruelty closed her eyes, sighed. She could deny the need. It would give her even more power to have that power and give no mercy.

  But she didn't want to. The girl's desperation curled inside her and energized her, and she didn't want it—even though she wanted not to be tired anymore, even though she wanted to return to her former glory, even though this could be just any girl. Some street kid who'd run away from a situation at home and only ran into worse; she'd met them often enough, especially in the burger job. Plenty of people could scrounge up enough change to buy a burger and get a free water with it.

  Cruelty ducked down quickly, and gathered up the jewels that had fallen around the girl, who was now sobbing too hard to speak any more. She looked completely wretched, completely wrecked, was hunched around herself in despair. "Quick now," Cruelty said. "Put these in your pocket. They'll be good enough to sell whenever you get to go home."

  Uncertainly, the girl looked up at her, still hiccupping and rasping her breaths, but did as told.

  "Now, hold on," Cruelty said. "I can take you a better place than this is, anyway."

  This was embarrassing, she thought and put her arms around the girl. Certainly, she'd never live it down if anyone found out.

  Cruelty closed her eyes, let out an irritated breath, and used the energy the girl's need had given
her to shift them both through space to Talia's castle.

  Chapter Eleven

  "I heard what you did for that poor girl," Talia said the next time Cruelty walked through her door.

  Cruelty very nearly turned around and left. It was humiliating enough to imagine that enough people had talked about it that Talia might have heard of it; she didn't want to discuss it, or its significance, or why she had even had the impulse to do it in the first place.

  But leaving wouldn't stop people from talking. If Talia was trying to find out more about her actions from others… better to control it herself than let Talia's attempts to dig into things get out of hand.

  Even to herself, it felt like she was making excuses to stay. It didn't even feel good enough as an excuse. Annoyed, she slung herself onto the bed, sitting next to Talia's sleeping form. "Oh, that," she said dismissively. "What an embarrassing urge that was! You'll make a do-gooder of me yet, Beauty."

  "Maybe I will," Talia agreed softly. "After all, you keep doing good."

  "Oh, stop," Cruelty said.

  "Between nearly sacrificing yourself to bring people in," Talia said, "and helping protect one of the same people you were responsible for bringing over… I don't even know what to say, Rue. I've thought poorly of you all this time for something you did so long ago. And it's not like I was wrong. I'm the one who's had to bear this curse. But I'm… really impressed, really relieved. I feel like I can rely on you now, Rue."

  "No, really," Cruelty said, voice coming out flat even to her ears. "Stop."

  Talia's image pushed in close. "I don't want to stop," she said, and she leaned up.

  It wasn't like Cruelty could feel her mouth. The image of Talia was literally nothing but light bent around the shape Talia imagined for herself. Her kiss felt like air and the void, a stunning shock of her heart skipping over no sensation whatsoever, just the realization that Talia had, at that moment, been unable to imagine anything but herself kissing Cruelty.

  Talia leaned back a moment later. "I'm… sorry," she stammered.

  Cruelty glanced down at Talia's body; her cheeks were completely pink, lips parted and a little wet, breath coming a bit fast with embarrassment. Perhaps, she thought wryly, not just embarrassment.

  "Are you really sorry?" she asked.

  "Well, I just...! I'm aware it's inappropriate. I am... I'm sorry."

  Cruelty laughed softly, the sound of it gathering thickly in her throat. "I don't want apologies."

  "I'm…" Talia's voice died away.

  "Surely," Cruelty said, "you haven't gotten all muddled up? Perhaps, because I'm doing some kind deed in your presence at all, you've decided to mistake me for your prince?"

  Talia was quiet for a moment. And then, still soft, almost under her breath, but thickly stubborn: "No. I'd never make that mistake. And I know you haven't had truly kind intentions to me. You could break my spell, but you won't."

  "I won't," Cruelty agreed.

  "You committed to it, and won't undo it. You value your pride much higher than you value my autonomy," Talia said.

  "That's right."

  "And I still wanted to kiss you," Talia said. "Perhaps you think that's funny. Or ironic? A bitter joke? But I need you. I want you. I haven't mistaken you for anything but what you are, Cruelty. But I think I'm getting to know who you can be, not just who you've let yourself be. And I wanted to kiss you."

  Cruelty swallowed past the lump in her throat, the strange feeling in her chest, and forced a laugh out. "You really are an idiot, Princess. The way you are right now, even if you want to kiss you can't. Your breath is nothing but air shaped around air."

  I need you, Talia had said, and the thought whirled around in Cruelty's head. Being needed, being wanted—for a moment the only thing she could think of was how the girl in the ogre's place had begged her for help, and the rush it had given her. Wanting to be needed, and wanting to dominate those who relied on her; they should be such different things, but the idea of them was too much the same now in a way she couldn't even define. Like it was touching her in the same place, waking the same heady sense of… something. Once upon a time, she would have called it power. Now she wasn't sure what it was.

  "You're right," Talia said. "I can't kiss you. I can't open my eyes, or sit up. There's nothing I can tell my body to do that it will do. But my body is right there."

  "So it is."

  "I'm right here, Rue," Talia said, voice pleading. It was a bad idea.

  Cruelty leaned over her sleeping form and kissed her.

  The body under hers was soft and pliant, physical and very present in a way that Talia's actual self wasn't. Cruelty herself had never felt so physical either. She could feel the strain in her hips from the way she had twisted to kiss her without actually shifting from her seated position; could feel the thudding of blood through her veins, the soft warmth of Talia's mouth under hers. She kissed her slowly and gently, her closed mouth exploring Talia's lips, scattering gentle, almost-chaste kisses over them, feeling the soft catch as their mouths briefly stuck together with each one.

  "Oh," Talia breathed from beside her.

  Cruelty's eyes flew open and she glanced aside at where Talia really was; her image was kneeling next to the bed, arms pillowed on the mattress, watching Cruelty kiss her body. Cruelty knew that Talia could feel it; she'd made sure of that time and time again with rough pinches and pricks and other ways to make her wince.

  Maybe, she thought vaguely, this was just another way to do so.

  But knowing that Talia was watching, emboldened by the fact she was performing this for the very person she was kissing, her heart thudded harder. She suddenly deepened the kiss, used her hand to tug lightly down on Talia's jaw to open her mouth, slid her tongue in. Despite how long Talia had been lying here, her mouth was still sweet, and the hot taste of her saliva, different from Cruelty's own, forced a small, unwanted sound from her throat, quiet and hungry.

  Talia would ask her to stop, she thought. Chastened, embarrassed by how far this kiss had gone, she'd plead for her to stop, knowing she could do nothing to prevent Cruelty from continuing if she wanted to. That power would be enough. She could carry that power with her from here on.

  "Ah," Talia breathed. Here it comes, Cruelty thought, but: "Please," she said instead. "It… feels good, Cruelty."

  For a moment, it was like everything stopped. Sound cut out, replaced by a split second of white noise; her heart squeezed in her chest.

  Talia's body exhaled, the sound shaky, breath gusting warm over Cruelty's mouth, and reality started back up with a rush.

  She closed her eyes and kissed Talia again.

  Wet kisses doubled, tripled; Cruelty twisted properly to face her, braced herself on one arm, and made a soft noise as she kissed her again. Her free hand ran over Talia's side, over the strong bars of her ribs, to her hip, back up again to rest just beside the curve of breast; she was the one, for once, who felt a little embarrassed to touch. She heard Talia suck in a breath from next to her where she was watching Cruelty kiss her, let out a plaintive noise.

  "Please Cruelty, I've been waiting so long for someone to touch me," Talia whispered.

  "Someone?" Cruelty murmured against her mouth.

  "You know I wasn't expecting it to be you," Talia said, but there wasn't any kind of remorse or even embarrassment in her voice; if anything, there was excitement. It was just a fact, and one she was seeing proven wrong. Was excited, Cruelty thought, to be proven wrong about it.

  She cupped her hand on Talia's breast, felt its soft, perky shape under her hand grow perkier, nipple pressing roughly into the center of her palm through the thin nightgown. Beside her, Talia let out a soft sound; underneath her, Talia let out an unconscious sigh, body shifting slightly.

  Cruelty curled her fingers, pulling in toward that nipple, caught at it and tugged. She rolled it gently, rubbing the nightgown between her fingers and the flesh of Talia's nipple. Talia let out an actual yelp; her body made another soft sigh,
shifting, thighs seeming to rub together.

  "You're having a good dream," Cruelty said softly.

  "No," Talia said. "No… my body's asleep. My mind hasn't been dreaming at all since then. This is real."

  "You're really a pervert," Cruelty said.

  "I think it's normal," Talia said; Cruelty glanced to see her image red-cheeked, bright-eyed. "You've teased me all this years and now I get to feel you."

  "I could leave now."

  "Don't."

  She didn't, just shook her head as if to dismiss the banter, ducked down, mouthed Talia's nipple through the nightgown, sucked until the soft cotton grew damp and the hard nub underneath grew harder, hard enough she could feel the small ridges of it against her tongue.

  Talia let out a moan, soft but intense, and Cruelty closed her eyes and shuddered. Then, gathering herself, she pulled Talia's nightgown off her. It was a little effort, moving Talia's unresponsive and sleep-heavy body, but she managed, let Talia sprawl back naked in the bed, looked at her. It wasn't like her nightgown had ever left much to the imagination, but there was something different about this. Well, of course, she thought, a little embarrassed at herself; context was everything.

  "You too," Talia said, and Cruelty, flushing a little, dimmed the lamp beside Talia's bed and unbuttoned her shirt.

  She made love to Talia with more care than she'd like to admit to, kissing all over her neck and breasts, running hands over her hips and thighs, careful as she moved her to not dislodge the flax thread stuck in her finger. If Talia noticed the way she sucked on other fingers but left that one alone, if she noticed how afterwards Cruelty put the hand to the side, out of the way, she said nothing about it.

  But she said plenty of other things, urging Cruelty on, whispering suggestions, eager. It was like she was compensating for her inability to act by driving it other ways, by asking for anything she wanted to see and feel. It was her suggestion that had Cruelty straddling her thigh, sucking on her throat, grinding as she pressed two fingers into Talia. It was her words that had Cruelty biting, fingers twisting in Talia's wetness, digging and searching and moving, that constant eager breathy gasping voice piling out word after word after word of eager encouragement.