forgiveness and fear {kiah}

Victor loathed it when the childeren defied him.

It filled him with a rage that he could barely contained. It burned through his veins, unleashing the dragon that slumbered. He could almost feel slight sympathy for the one who would be on the receiving end of his wrath. No, that is incorrect. He didn't feel sympathy. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt sympathy for anyone but himself. And that was a long time ago. These days he is consumed with one goal. It stole his humanity. though many would argue that he lost that a long time before hand. His parents having consumed it when they lived precariously through him, only to have him fail and move onto their next child. A goal that he will achieve.

His feet move quickly through the mansion. He was on a mission, and new exactly where he was headed. His aura was dark, gloomy and terrifying as he stomped past closed doors, the dinning hall where that darn boy, Finn, sat silently eating his dinner. Victor was very conflicted when it came to Finn. He felt like he should have some sort of respect towards the kid, after all he had come out victorious in the last pairing. But every time he looked at him he felt his skin begin to crawl. Ugh, he was such a displeasure to look at, so much so that he only made Victor's rage increase, the dragon climbing to the surface.

Frustration is expressed in a growl as he travels deeper into the mansion. Finn was not his target today.

No, tonight Finn would escape unscathed. He was one lucky bastard.

Suddenly he stops. He was outside of Fiona's door. He could hear nothing inside, but he knew she was there. She was always there, whispering to herself. He didn't know about what, or to whom, and quite frankly he couldn't give a fuck. As long as she preformed, and she continued to develop he couldn't care less about what she did in her pastime. It surprised him when he had first seen her error. He had thought her to be one of the better ones. But there was no mistaking what he saw. No, he hadn't fucking blinked.

But she had.

She had closed her fucking eyes as the bastard child, Finn, had drove the blade through that other pathetic girls heart. She had looked away. At first Victor had doubted himself. He had thought it might have just been a dancing shadow. But he had been wrong and the darn child had missed it. And that meant she had missed out on one of the most important lessons they were teaching here.

Knuckles rap against wood and a couple moment later the door is swung open and their stands Fiona. She doesn't blink now.

After a brief moment of surprise her lips are turned up with a charming smile. "Oh, Victor," the words slip easily passed her lips, she doesn't even have to think, years of practice paying off.

Victor doesn't smile back. He was a storm in the brewing. Ready to unleash damage.

"Is there something wrong?"

He steps past her, roughly knocking her out the way. "Do you know why I am here?" He asks harshly, his eyes burning into her own, leaving her no chance to escape his furious gaze. "I'm here because you missed a very important lesson." He pauses, as if he was waiting for an answer. But he doesn't. He is not a very patient man. "How dare you defy me like that! After everything me and my family have done for you! We have given you a roof over you head. Fed your greedy mouth, and trained you to be strong. And this is how you repay us?"

Was he being a tad dramatic?

Yes.

But that is Victor for you.

The audacity of this girl.

He couldn't quite fathom how she thought she might get away with it, how she thought that by playing innocent that she might escape from their encounter unscathed.

His eyes bore into hers, and to her credit she does not look away. Her eyes locked onto his. Her smile doesn't even falter. And had it of been in a different circumstance, Victor might have been proud of her. But it wasn't. And Victor was far from impressed. She was playing him for a fool, and Victor was many things (Like a master swordsman, incredibly handsome, and some might say even God-like), but he was no fool. And he would not be played for one either, especially not by one of the childeren. He could see the unease that was buried deep in the depths of her eyes. She knew that his outrage was something to be feared.

With years of practice she managers to effortlessly re-arrange the features of her face. Thanks to Octavia, no doubt, another person who had helped her grow into the person she is today. She looks confused, her eyebrows drawn close in together. Victor wanted to slap the expression right off her face. She was really testing his patience tonight.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Her voice is laced with innocence, her eyes trying so hard not betray her. She refuses to admit what he and she knew what he was here for. And once again, he might have been proud of her, had been in a different situation. But it wasn't and it enraged him that he was using tactics that she had learnt here against him. And maybe just a little bit proud, even though he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she says, as if this might save her. Victor fights the urge to mimic her, remembering that he was not talking to his siblings. He also fought to hold on to his temper, which had already started blurring the lines.

"You don't know, Fiona?" He asked, taking a step closer to her, "well, should I help you recap, then?" He doesn't yell this time. His voice low. Calm. Like the calm before a storm. "You remember Annabelle don't you? Yes. Im sure you do, don't you Fiona. And I'm sure know Finn," he tries not to scowl as the name slips past his lips, "your brother?" He pauses, taking another step so that he is standing with only one foot of space separating them. He loomed over her, so much so, that he had to tilt his head to look her in the eyes. "You remember when Finn killed Annabelle, don't you Fiona? You were there. With the rest of the family. So of course you remember that. But do you remember what it looked like when Finn buried his sword inside Annabelles heart?".

For the first time her smile drops.

The intensity of her graze matching Victors.

The last words fall from his mouth, dripping with venom.

Then words escape past her lips, they each down Victors throat, rousing the dragon.

"How could I forget?"

And the dragon is released.

His hand moves faster than his mind. His fingers meet flesh. The sharp sound of flesh striking flesh fills the air. Then silence.

Victors hand stings slightly. He watches as a small trail of red liquid begins to leak from the corner of Fiona's mouth. She had lied to him. Over and over and over again. She had pulled the last straw and he had snapped. He had not held back. He did not regret his actions, his body still buzzing from rage which was boiling in his blood.

What else could you expect?

You poke the dragon,

You are asking to be bitten.

He steps back from the girl, flexing his fingers, he examines them. The skin is flushed the colour of one of the roses in the front yard. But their condition is nothing compared to the bruise that was already beginning to blossom on the girl cheek. The skin of the girls face already forming a clean imprint of where is hand hand landed. A reminder of what happened when he was defied. Not only for her, but for the rest of them. They would all see her face, the mark that was left behind, and they would all be reminded that Victor was not a joke. He was not a fool, and he would not be played for one.

And yet despite himself, he still could not stop the pride that had begun to blossom in his heart. And he hated it. The girl had defied him. She had missed an important lesson, one that he had drilled into them for nearly six years now. And yet, even though he had stormed in here, utterly terrifying, she had used the skills she had been taught. She had managed to hold his gaze, to return it even. And despite the rage it stirred he could not help but be proud. Proud that one day she might actually be able to fill the extremely large boots that he had laid out for each of them. It made him sick.

"You blink again, and this will only be a taster of what to expect." He hissed down at the girl, his eyes shooting daggers. "Next fight, I will be watching you very closely, Fiona." He says as he walks towards the door. He is about to leave when he stops in the doorway, his eyes meeting hers for the last time. "You better be watching very closely. If not I might just have to remove them. Because obviously you aren't using them for what they are for."