Sweet as Sugar

Sweet as Sugar Chapter Nine
Disclaimers Apply

A/N MEGA HUGE thanks to Gomalley and Venefican for giving this a gander! 


She had the nightmare for years. The same one always, about being naked in front of a huge group. Now, however, she found nothing frightening about the simple fantasy. There was nothing scary about the idea of being in front of her old math class, her bare skin oddly glowing under the overhead lights as she tried to work out an equation on the board. That would be a joy compared to this.

Rose could not see the audience but she knew they were there. She knew because she could hear them and feel them; there were hundreds of eyes on her, watching her every movement. The blood dripping down her arms and belly was congealing in rivulets, drying to a thick, almost black consistency as the wounds inflicted on her by servants of The Lady began the healing process. She had screamed when golden blades scored her flesh, shrieked when pale hands tore the fine, thin material from her body and began sobbing wildly when she had been dragged, silver chains around her wrists and ankles, into the arena.

All the time, the Champion had watched, face as still as a statue.

Rose had demanded, ordered, and cursed at those around her, then finally begged and pleaded. She was scared and no matter how many worlds she had seen and how many planets she had a part in saving, she was a little girl inside, desperate for someone to save her.

“Rise,” a soft and commanding voice ordered, seeming to come from the air around the duo in the arena.

The smell of flowers, seductive rather than cloying, filled the space and Rose gasped. It was like being enveloped in a rich garden, every blossom she had ever imagined or seen suddenly bursting to life. The walls lightened, going from black to violet and finally a pale, almost nonexistent lilac color. Light pulsed like a living thing and vines sprang from the floor to coil along the walls, a plethora of blooms opening unblinking eyes to watch the Champion and Rose.

“You will begin,” the voice intoned.

“Begin what?” Rose cried, raking her shaking fingers through her dirty hair.

She wanted to be ill and wondered, somewhat dimly, if that would be a valid defense, vomiting on the Champion to get her to go away. The tall, imposing female did not move after the command came and somehow, this made Rose even more nervous than before.

“Am I supposed to fight you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Because if I am…you win! You’re the champion again! I can’t fight you!”

“You,” the Champion’s rough voice came suddenly, as if on a sigh, “are stupid.”

Rose’s eyes blazed at the insult, even though her fear. “I’m not stupid! This,” she gestured with her arms, wincing at the pain as the wounds pulled with her movement, “is stupid! How can I fight you? You’re bigger than me, stronger than me…” she trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.

“Right. This is stupid.”

She saw something glitter by the Champion’s side and it felt as if part of her brain shut off; the part, she thought wildly, that governed rational actions. Before the other female could bring the weapon past her hip, Rose launched herself forward, running as hard and fast as she could before taking a leap at the Champion. She found herself tumbling towards the ground in short order. The Champion had dodged her easily, flipping her away with a simple maneuver that left Rose winded and in pain as she lay on the hard floor of the arena. The lights dimmed and for a moment. Rose thought she was fainting or worse.

“This bores me terribly.” The soft voice sounded like a petulant child trapped in a woman’s body.

“My Champion is besting the girl far too easily. I want to see something exciting.”

Rose pushed herself up onto her elbows and tasted the blood on her lower lip, split from her fall.

“Show me your face and I’ll give you something to be excited about,” she muttered, a shred of her old bravado coming back.

For just a second, she thought she heard the Doctor and Jack calling her name but it was so faint, so brief, that she knew it to be wistful thinking.

“If you’re not going to let me out of here, my friends are going to report you to the…the Galactic Tribunal and you’ll be brought up on false imprisonment charges!” she shouted, getting to her feet with no small amount of lost dignity as she realized the audience could see not only her backside but everything else as she bent over to push herself up.

There was a lengthy silence during which Rose had the feeling that the Champion and the Lady were exchanging some sort of silent communication, the tall adversary’s head tilted to one side and her face settling into lines of annoyance. Finally, the Lady’s voice came again.

“We are above the tribunal’s laws.”

“There’s really such a thing?” Rose muttered to herself. “I was just bluffing…”

“You have fans,” the Champion said in a mocking tone.

Her dark hair fell past her hips and was twisted into a long braid, slung over one shoulder to dangle over her breast. She moved towards Rose, her muscles rippling under smooth flesh, virtually hairless and seeming to glimmer in the pastel light flooding the arena.

“They seem very desperate for you to win.”

Rose swallowed hard. She felt as if her throat were full of sand and her veins full of ice. This was all so fast, she thought desperately. It was like the worst nightmare she could think of but worse because it was real. She could taste the blood on her tongue, feel it on her limbs. Her body ached from being thrown and her temper was at a breaking point. She wanted to cry, scream, sob and rage. She wanted to hide and be saved. But, a tiny, calm voice in the back of her mind pointed out with perfect clarity, she had to do it herself. The Doctor could not save her. Jack could not save her. No one, she thought with a tinge of bitterness, could save her.

“Why am I here?” she demanded, her voice thick. “If I win, what happens to me?”

“You would be the Champion of the Lady. You would defend Her, honor Her, and represent Her,” the dark haired female before her said, sounding both bored and condescending.

“You would BE the Lady to all supplicants. Her true form is too beautiful to behold for most simple creatures… you would be the face of the Goddess.”

A smile flickered across the Champion’s features. “But you won’t be.”

Rose stared, somewhat stunned. “You’re the face of the Goddess?”

“Yes,” the Champion said, obviously proud as she straightened her spine to stand at her full height.

“Funny,” Rose replied, her temper finally strengthening her resolve, “I thought she would be beautiful.”

She braced herself for the blow that never came, though it was obvious the Champion did want to strike her. The door they had both entered the arena through slid open to Rose’s right and a flurry of movement drew her eyes to the scene. Jack, wearing so little that Rose had to look away, was being shoved through the entryway, his wrists bound. Behind him, barely visible, was an imposing figure of a man, his skin and hair the colors of the sea.

“Jack!” Rose cried, still too embarrassed to look on his near-nudity. Automatically, her arms moved to cover her breasts, one hand dropping to block his view of more intimate areas.

“You sure know how to have fun, Rosie-girl,” Jack said, bravado coloring his voice.

“Looks like you and me are gonna have a little party with tall, dark and gruesome here.”

“No,” the Lady’s voice came, this time laughing. “You are not going to play with my Champion or the golden one. You,” her voice was almost a purr. Tinged with amusement, “Are the test.”

“The what?” Jack asked after a slight pause.

“Hope you’ve been studying me like I’ve been studying you, Rose,” he muttered. “This might be interesting.”

A dais was rising from the floor, no longer secreted beneath the panel between them and the Champion. The stark white surface was veined with red, like rubies in marble, and with it came the strong scent of roses and jasmine.

“Oh, this is definitely interesting…”

“Jack, I’m scared,” Rose admitted, finally forcing herself to look at his open, friendly face. “What’s going to happen?”

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, cupping her chin in his hand. “I have a plan.”

He winked at her and shifted his attention to the approaching Champion. “So,” he said pleasantly, “come here often?”

“Oh, great.” Rose groaned, hanging her head and letting her hair cover her face, “His plan is to wear her down with pick up lines.”

The Lady spoke again, her tone no longer soft and seductive. She sounded hard as nails, sending frissons of tension down Rose’s spine. “Lord Bara has kindly offered his newly acquired slave for this portion of the festivities.” As if on cue, unseen hands lifted Jack, his yelp eliciting soft laughter from the hidden owner of the voice and a snort of derision from the Champion.

“I don’t care what they say. I’ll never get used to that!” Jack opined as he was positioned on the dais, his arms and legs pinned down by the invisible assistants to the Lady.

Rose forgot her modesty for all of a moment, her fingers flying to her lips as if to stifle a scream of surprise. “What’s going on?”

“The test of strength bores me,” the Lady sighed. “I want to entertain my guests, make this the joyous festival it should truly be… My Champion must be a mistress of all the arts—war, weaponry, intellect, dance, music and,” there fell a lengthy pause. Rose could practically feel the smile in the next words the lady spoke.

“Above all, she must be expert in seduction.”