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[deniles]

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[deniles]

...It just... can't take more than two more months.

[He doesn't think it will, but there's a fear settling into his voice and into his eyes as if he knows that once his time is up, his time is truly up. They won't leave him alive if he knows.]

I can't do a damn thing to help you but please don't take long.

[indragonyears]

[ And again, the blackened core beating in Wrathion's chest pangs for Niles. He strokes the man's face, smile softening on his edges as he draws him in close, all but breathing softness against his ear. ]

Two months? Dear man, I intend to have this resolved in two days. My very important time has other places to be spent.

[ He's playing with Niles' hair, curling a lock around his finger with an affectionate little hum. ]

Where will you go, when the work is done?

[deniles]

Two days? That's so long.

[But he feels relieved now that he knows he won't be trapped here forever. Sighing lightly.]

A whore house. Might as well, have to raise a kid somehow.

[indragonyears]

Think of it as building anticipation for the main event. As I said, I need concrete evidence to prove to the king that my ruling was just and worthy of being so... final.

[ He continues to play with Niles' hair, a curiosity wiggling free of his better senses. ]

What did you do before you took to playing mother?

[deniles]

...Murdered, blackmailed, and whored myself out. That's how I got like this.

[He rubs his hand over his face with a laugh.]

At least if I work on it now, I won't be able to get pregnant again.

[indragonyears]

[ Wrathion's brow raises, a cat-with-the-cream look stealing over his face. ]

I've always got a use for loyal men of that caliber. [ ... because what's a mission if you don't pick up your reparations along the way? ]

The Black Prince is good to his people, I assure you.

[deniles]

...I'll make a deal with you. In 24 hours, I want to have them both dead by my hands. If you can provide that, I will be the most loyal man you have ever had working for you.

And if it takes longer, I make no promises about working for you. Are we clear?

[indragonyears]

You take all of the fun out of hanging a man with his own noose, you know that?

[ There's a glimmer of irritation in Wrathion's mien, a displeasure with being given an ultimatum, of all things... but he smooths it down. Thinks it over. Rolling his shoulder and runs the calculation, ruby-red eyes flickering as he thinks through the possibilities and the steps--before he finally gives a nod and a bit of a shrug. ]

Very well. Your hands will be stained with their blood by this time tomorrow--and as a result, you will serve me for the rest of your life. We've an accord?

[ He holds out a gloved hand, golden-tipped gauntlets glittering in the firelight with equal parts danger and promise, eyes burning with dragonfire. ]

[deniles]

Sorry, I don't like to play the waiting game.

[If he wants to get his revenge, he wants to do it while it's delicious and hot. He doesn't want to wait for them to choke and die.]

We have.

[Taking it and shaking his hand.]

I look forward to it.