Archive of Our Own

The Dargonus sunset did not entirely compare to Holy Terra's but after months aboard the Eye of Providence, encased in metal and being driven through warp energy regularly, it was nevertheless something to behold. Especially as it fell upon Lavinia, spreading gold across her skin like liquid, activating in him a thirst the fine amasec in their glasses could not quench.

She leaned heavily against one armrest, hand wrapped around her chin in thought, while the fingers of her other hand drummed a frustrated pattern against the table. It was hard not to let his gaze follow the opening of her bathrobe but before it fell too far down, he returned his focus to the regicide board between them. Her eye slid across the the pieces, tracking prospective moves, and that delightful furrow in her brow made its appearance. He had the temptation to kiss it away.

If she played this game just to humor him, it did not show. She seemed to engage as intensely as he did, though usually not as deftly.

Yet Heinrix found his position delicate today.

Their games were starting to get longer and longer as she put more and more thought into her moves, and she was, in fact, perilously close to a counter-strategy that might defeat him. He studied the board and then her face as a small, inquisitive smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. He hadn't counted on her stumbling into such a solution and there would be no way out for him if she solved it. His only option was to divert her.

"After a certain point, you only delay the inevitable," he said casually. A little pressure and she would do something impulsive instead of the plan forming in her mind.

She shushed him. "Drink your drink."

Ah, she was too clever to submit like that. He suppressed a smile.

Emboldened rather than deterred, Lavinia stopped drumming her fingers and held her hand over the board, half-open. It hovered over the fortress piece and he tried not to react.

"Go on," he said. A little reverse psychology.

"I haven't touched a piece yet," she snapped. "It's still my turn."

But she retracted her hand, smirk falling into a frown.

He sniffed and took a sip of his drink, studying her as she reviewed her options once again. He could see she had it; he wasn't sure why she wasn't making the move.

"What's stopping you?" he asked curiously, setting the glass back down.

"I'm having a moment of déjà vu. I'm almost certain you've employed this exact strategy before, but if I'm wrong, then I've handed you the game, I think." Again her hand hovered, this time over one of her last remaining citizens. And again, she retracted it and resumed her drum on the table, frustration mounting.

She was far too close for his comfort.

Gently, he took hold of her hand, leaned forward, and kissed her fingers, focused on her face to gauge her reaction. She glanced at him, startled, but smiled slightly before returning to the board.

He did not let up and planted another kiss on her knuckles.

Lavinia let out a small laugh, now distracted from the game. "What are you doing?"

He turned her hand and kissed her palm. "The Dargonus sunset suits you, Your Ladyship."

She started to reply but he placed another on the inside of her wrist and her mouth hung half-open, the glow of her ocular augment trained on him. Her pulse picked up the pace under his lips.

He stood from his seat and drew closer so he could continue trailing kisses along her arm, pushing her sleeve up as he went. A youthful grin spread across her face at the tickle of his tongue on the inside of her elbow.

"What about the game?" she asked, but her voice had dropped in register and he knew that although he had not necessarily rescued his pieces from demise, he had nevertheless won the battle today. Distraction was as valid a tactic as bloody victory.

"We can continue later," he suggested, slipping the robe to expose her shoulder for another kiss, this time scraping his teeth down her skin. Even without an ulterior motive, he no longer had any intention of finishing this round.

"Oh," she breathed, "maybe. Maybe you're right." The last word faded into a gasp, not quite finished.

Heinrix came down onto his knees beside her chair and her hand settled on the nape of his neck, stroking his hair as he swept his tongue across her collarbone.

Her posture shifted, opening from its pensive curl with a sigh. He drank the sunlight from her neck, hands finding the shape of her beneath the robe. When her grip tightened in his hair, all considerations of regicide tactics fell out of his mind, her touch the only thing that ever could free him from any other thought. There were no games nor xenos here. Even the Creed a distant suggestion.

Then, just as his hand slid up her inner thigh, Lavinia yanked his head back from her throat and stared down, both eye and augment meeting his gaze, Rogue Trader and Interrogator each odd-eyed in their own ways. He froze, unsure where this was going, always thrilled whenever her entire focus fell on him. She leaned in and he let his eyes flicker half-way closed and--

"I'm winning," she said against his lips, breath flavored with amasec, and drew back.

His eyes opened wide. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm winning," she repeated and then kissed the tip of his nose, releasing his hair. "I'm winning, and you're trying to distract me."

Heinrix was silent as she pushed him back onto his heels with a finger to his forehead and motioned for him to return to his seat across the table. One thick, enticing leg crossed over her knee and she leaned back in her chair. Her attention turned into judgement -- but the corner of her mouth turned up.

"Lavinia..." he began, swallowing his own grin before he spoiled the mood.

She clicked her tongue in disapproval and gestured again to the regicide board. "I am going to win and you are going to celebrate my blessed victory by finishing what you just started."

Reluctantly, Heinrix pushed himself to his feet, returned to his chair, and sat.

Once she was certain she had his undiverted attention, she slowly plucked the fortress piece from the board and let it drift across until it hovered over his ecclesiarch. Then she flicked her hand and knocked his piece over, settled her fortress in its place, and dropped the fallen ecclesiarch into the discard pile. Then she picked up her drink and took a pleased little sip.

With no other options, he continued with the move that would prolong the game. Maybe if she didn't see results immediately, she would be deterred? Make a mistake? His own sullen motions surprised him -- he was proud of her, of course, but to lose to someone he conceived as a...

Well.

Lesser opponent was harsh, but certainly a less experienced one--

As if reading his mind, her smile softened. "You should be proud, van Calox. I would not have become so accomplished without your numerous victories over me. You are a more than adequate teacher."

His heart warmed and he returned the smile. His facial muscles always hurt after time with her -- there was entirely too much smiling in her presence, something he did not get to practice much.

Then she came and knocked over his remaining citizen, and the end of the game was spelled out before them. His face fell.

Rather than rushing, she dragged out each movement, feigning consideration and contemplation.

"Going forward, we'll be including a timer for our turns," he said with a glower.

"We will not," she answered brightly, languishing in her ability to drag each turn, and his suffering, out.

Worse, she shifted in her seat to expose the skin he so desperately wanted to touch. He nearly began moving the pieces for her just to get to the end.

"We know you have won," he sighed at last. "Can we not move onto the celebration?"

Lavinia placed an offended hand over her heart. "Were this a battle against the Enemies of Humanity, would you suggest such half-measures? Would you say 'good enough'? Would you celebrate before absolute control?"

Then she planted her fortress just shy of his empress. With her citizen there and her fortress here, here was no way to sufficiently defend his emperor.

"I don't think you would," she finished. She delicately placed her chin in both hands and smiled.

He made his final move. She made hers, tipping his emperor over. When he looked up at her, the sun had settled over her green eye, alighting her face in glorious victory, and he had a hard time feeling resentful. She held up her glass and they clinked to her success.

"Now," she said, motioning for him to come closer, "shall we celebrate?"

He would never admit to how quickly he abandoned the board, the drink, the chair, just to kiss her. Her victory was a win for them both.