Possession 1/2
Mar. 26th, 2012 09:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deeperwondermentTitle: Possession 1/2
Author:shadowcat
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 10,636
Fandom: Charmed AU
Character(s): Phoebe Halliwell, Belthazor/Cole Turner, The Source Of All Evil
Challenge: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
witchesbigbang
Summary: The first time Belthazor/Cole meets Phoebe, she's a prisoner of the The Source of All Evil in the Underworld and his Oracle. He doesn't know why she's there and why she hasn't been rescued, and Phoebe's not telling him anything -- nor is she offering more than a token resistance to anything that happens to her. Cole is determined to find out why she's there -- and what these new feelings and urges that he's feeling mean to him and who he is.
Author's Note: Warning for character assault and implied sexual situations.
He was with The Source the first time he saw her. The small brunette was laying on her side on a stone slab and her eyes were full of sadness when she looked at him. She didn't speak to him, just kept her gaze on The Source as he spoke. She never looked away from him as he moved.
"This is my pet...my Oracle...her name is Phoebe," The Source was saying as she slid off the stone slab and stood in front of The Source.
Bright One, he thought as he looked her over.
"The best part of this," The Source was saying. "She's one of the Charmed Ones," he said with a smile.
He found himself fighting not to stagger back as he looked at the Oracle.
Charmed Ones? What was one of the Charmed Ones doing here in the Underworld?
The Oracle dropped her eyes so that he couldn't see them, but from the way she held herself, she was frightened and she was in pain.
Mine.
The sudden thought that exploded within his brain surprised him.
Mine.
His demon self and his human self was laying a claim to the Oracle that belonged to The Source...The Source who had more power than he could ever hope to go up against. He watched with narrowed eyes as The Source circled the Oracle.
"Ah, Phoebe," he hissed as his hand found its way to her throat and he squeezed lightly, making her look at him. "Still so defiant, still full of hope that you will find a way to escape."
"I serve as I must..."
Such simple words...but there was no defeat lacing those words.
He clenched his fists behind his back as he watched The Source shove Phoebe --- Bright One --- against the wall. She didn't resist, but he could see her muscles tightening as she struggled not to fight back, and this made him curious.
"See how she caves before me, Belthazor?" The Source asked. "Part of her wants to fight, but the other part of her knows that she is powerless to resist. I own her."
It happened faster than he expected, and even then, he didn't know if he would have tried to stop her. She said something in a soft tongue and The Source was flung back against the opposite wall. After a moment, The Source straightened with a growl and extended his hand in a whipping motion. The Oracle's head snapped to the side, and three lines of blood opened up on her cheek.
"The kitten has grown claws again," he said in a gravelly voice. "How shall I clip them this time?"
Belthazor watched with great interest as Phoebe bared her teeth at The Source. She glared at him in hatred even as her head whipped to the other side and blood appeared on that side of her face, too.
Mine! came that voice inside him again and it was getting angrier with every blow that the Oracle took from The Source. Mine! How dare he strike what belonged to him?! Of course, the fact that he was laying claim to something that belonged to his liege slipped his mind.
"You forget, little Oracle, what I can do to you if I choose."
"I forget nothing," Phoebe said in a soft voice. "I also don't forget that you dare not kill me."
This was beginning to get interesting, and Belthazor leaned against one of the wall to see how this played out.
The Source grabbed Phoebe and slammed her against the wall. With his other hand, he caressed her cheek.
"There are things that can be much more satisfying than killing you slowly, Phoebe."
"Perhaps," she whispered softly, "But we both know what will happen if you damage me too badly."
The Source pulled back with a wicked grin. "I think I shall let my best play with you for awhile. Then, perhaps you won't be so prideful and remember that I suffer you to live."
Phoebe's eyes widened as he gestured at Belthazor.
"Belthazor."
What the hell is going on?! He's giving her to me?
"Yes, Liege?"
"I want you to to take my little Oracle with you for the next few nights...maybe longer."
Excuse me?
"My lord?"
"Phoebe obviously needs a lesson in the fact that there are worse punishments than me." He smiled. "So, she should be the special guest of my best witch assassin for the foreseeable future. She is yours. Do as you wish with her, but...do not kill her. You must not kill her." There was a slight quiver in The Source's voice, but it was only there for the barest of seconds.
He saw the flicker of fear in the Oracle's eyes and he cursed The Source for saying that about him being his assassin of witches. Her fear of him was the last thing he wanted.
"Show her...a very good time, Belthazor." The Source said. He smiled cruelly. "Show her your best."
"Yes, my Liege." He bowed and stayed bowed until he felt The Source leave. Then he slowly straightened and stared at the Oracle in silence for several long moments.
Phoebe stared back at him. There was fear in the depths of her brown eyes, but there was also defiance in them. He took a step towards her, and she flattened herself against the wall as she looked for a way to escape. He stopped, watching her.
"It won't do you any good, Bright One," he said gently. "Even if you get away from us, how will you get out of the Underworld? I doubt you are a teleporter---and a White Lighter obviously cannot hear you from down here."
The Oracle frowned at him. "What does a demon know of White Lighters?" she asked.
"I know that they are the Guardian Angels of witches...and that yours obviously failed you."
"Leo..."
"Is obviously a dolt?" Belthazor supplied.
The Oracle's eyes darkened with anger. "You don't know anything about us or about Leo, so don't presume to pass judgment on him."
"He's not a very good White Lighter if you are here, a prisoner of the Source."
"I suppose you've killed enough witches that you've learned a thing or two about White Lighters?"
"A thing or two," Belthazor admitted.
The Oracle sat on the stone slab. "You kill witches."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's what I do." It's what I'm ordered to do.
"And now you're going to rape and torture me because that is what you do."
He twitched inwardly when she said those words so calmly. He looked into her eyes again and he could see that she had been through several kinds of tortures since coming into The Source's possession.
"How long have you been here?" he questioned quietly.
She looked at him, not sure why he was interested. "Over a year, I think."
He frowned. "And why hasn't your White Lighter come to your rescue?"
She ducked her head. "Probably afraid that he would be ambushed and he cannot risk that."
Belthazor was at her side in a flash and he raised her head so that he could see into her eyes...see into her soul.
Mine. That damned inner voice again.
He nudged at her mind with his and looked around a bit, then he felt a door in her mind slam against him, throwing him out of her head. That was very interesting.
"Never bow your head in my presence, Bright One," Belthazor said softly. "When I speak to you, or you speak to me, I wish to see your eyes."
There was a flash of something in her eyes and he felt very strange when holding her like that. He felt like he was being pulled into her soul.
"Bright One?" she questioned suspiciously.
"Phoebe means bright one or shining one...thus, I have decided that I should call you Bright One. It will be my own name for you."
She frowned in confusion and he saw disbelief in her eyes. "Why should you give me a private name like this," she asked softly. "Is this some sort of new trick?"
Belthazor shook his head. "No trick, Oracle," he assured her. "I am not The Source...or any of his others. I am me. I want you to be able to differentiate between us in both your mind and your soul."
"Why?"
Belthazor frowned, and squeezed her chin gently. "Because that is what I wish, Bright One," he said in a firm voice.
Phoebe nodded slightly. "Yes, Belthazor."
He flinched inwardly. For some reason, being called by that name by her really bothered him. "My name...is Cole," he finally said.
What was it about this witch that was breaking down so many of his barriers that he had built up over the centuries? No one had called him Cole since his father was killed all of those years ago. And yet...
And yet...
"Keep that name between the two of us, Bright One," he commanded softly. He let go of her chin and brushed her hair back from her bloody cheeks. He would have to make sure to get those cleaned and healed up. They would also have to do something about her clothing. He was suddenly feeling very possessive and didn't want any of the other demons down here seeing his Phoebe looking like an Egyptian Temple Dancer. He stared down into her brown eyes again. "Now, tell me truthfully, for I'll know if you lie, why hasn't your dolt of a White Lighter come to rescue you?"
Phoebe swallowed and fought to force her eyes to stay locked on his. "He has...more important things to do than trying to rescue me from a pit of demons," she said softly.
Belthazor shook his head. "Not good enough, Bright One," he said in a very firm voice. "You are one of the fabled Charmed Ones. What could be more pressing...more important than rescuing a Charmed One from torture and keeping her safe?"
Phoebe frowned at him, desperation in her eyes...and he knew there was a lot more to this situation than she was telling or that The Source knew.
"How do I know you will not run to The Source with anything that I tell you?" she demanded. "I have been here for over a year and you are the first one to think about what the situation must be like where my White Lighter is concerned."
It was a fair question.
"Because I am telling you that I will not betray your confidence."
"You're a demon! Betrayal is what you do!"
"I'm only half-demon," he said quietly, shocking the hell out of himself. "I'm also half-human."
Phoebe cocked her head and then lay her hand against the side of his face. She stared into his eyes for a very long time---at least it seemed to him that it was a very long time. She finally nodded and then removed her hand, stepping back.
"You're telling the truth."
"Of course I'm telling the truth," he grumbled. "Telepath or Empath?"
Phoebe smiled faintly...sadly. "Empath...but I do have a sort of telepathy that seems to have started developing since I have been here."
This pretty Oracle was dangerous...very dangerous to The Source indeed.
"What else can you do?"
"I'm not allowed to use my powers in the Underworld. Your owner or leader has forbidden the use of my powers --- except my powers that serve him..."
"As you belong to me now, I am ordering you to show me what else you are able to do."
Phoebe sighed. She held out her hand and fire shot from her fingers to explode against the wall across from them. "Sometimes, that works." She shrugged. "I have no idea where that came from as I haven't been able to do that in this lifetime until a few months ago."
Nice. Potentially useful.
"I can clearly see the future...as you no doubt already know. However, I can also see the past."
Empathy, telepathy, fire-throwing and premonitions...The Source was nurturing a very powerful...very dangerous enemy.
"Now," Belthazor said calmly. "Let's get back to our conversation about your White Lighter."
Phoebe sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"Where is he and why hasn't he come to get you the hell out of here?"
Phoebe frowned and looked down for a long time. She wasn't sure she should trust this demon, as The Source did call him his favourite. However, he did say he wouldn't betray her or her confidences.
"Leo...Leo is protecting my three sisters. When I got attacked and grabbed, Leo did try to come and rescue me. I wouldn't let him. The future...the future said that Leo was needed with my sisters."
Belthazor was getting angry. "So, he did as you said with no argument and didn't even try to help you? What kind of a White Lighter is he?!"
"One that trusts what his witch sees and decides to do," Phoebe snapped back at him.
"If you were my witch-"
"I'd be dead now, correct?"
When she looked at him like that he could feel himself growing uncomfortable. "I protect what is mine," he finally said.
"Even from The Source?"
"If it's important enough to me."
Phoebe tilted her head and looked at him for a long moment. "How do you decide if something is important enough to you to protect it from the one that claims to hold your leash?"
"I just know...somehow, I know."
Phoebe sat on the altar slab again. He would definitely need to get her better clothes. As much as he enjoyed seeing her limbs and seeing her flesh, he refused to let anyone else see her in this state of dress ever again.
"Do you know at the same time he knows...?"
"He cannot read my thoughts or my emotions."
"Then how am I able to?"
He did a mental somersault at her words. "How are you able to what?"
"Read your emotions."
Belthazor stared at her. "You can read my...my emotions?"
Phoebe nodded at him. "Yes, I can. Right now a few of them are exceptionally strong."
Okay, she was a very dangerous weapon...and the Source had given her to him.
"Does the Source know?"
"That I'm an Empath?" Phoebe shook her head. "I've managed to keep that little tidbit hidden from him."
"That's a good thing, Bright One. Letting him know you can do something like that can be very dangerous."
"You mean even more dangerous than it already is for me here," she said sarcastically.
She had a point. "He could have you killed."
"He doesn't dare. He doesn't want to deal with the wrath of my sisters or of some of the higher powers. Why do you think I'm still alive? It's not for my good looks. And it's not just because he needs my powers of premonitions." She looked at him. "He doesn't dare kill me because he's not sure that my sisters won't summon all of the spirits of past Halliwells to end him."
"Can they do that?"
Phoebe gave him a look. "Do you honestly think that I'm stupid enough to tell you anything my sisters can do just because you're sexy as hell and being nice to me?" She shook her head. "You're still a demon and you're still helping to keep me prisoner here."
"Half-demon," he said again. For some reason, it was important to him for her to make that distinction.Though, he had to hide a smile at her comment about him being sexy. "Half-demon."
"Fine, half-demon. However, you have been given me to mess with like I am some kind of carnival prize and you're still a minion of the Source of All Evil."
"You can trust me, Phoebe," he said quietly. "I refuse to let anyone harm you."
"Until he orders you to try to break me," she said bitterly. "It's only a matter of time and he'll order you to do something and then you betray that trust and that promise."
Although he knew that she had every reason in creation to distrust him and think the worst of him, he really did not like the fact that her opinion of him was so negative. It made sense that she wouldn't believe in him, but damn it, he had told her he refused to let anyone harm her. She was HIS! Phoebe, Oracle, Charmed One... she was his and he wouldn't let anyone touch her ever again.
He let out a breath. "Bright One... I won't let... I will not hurt you. I will not allow myself to be made to hurt you."
"You're his," she said quietly. "He can force you to do anything he wants you to do."
"I'm not his," he argued, and his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. "I'm not his."
Phoebe gave him a sad look. "Don't say things you don't mean, Cole. You are as much his as I am."
"You're mine."
"Only so long as he deems it worthwhile." She said quietly. "On a whim he could take me from you and give me to another of his pets and I will be even more screwed than I was before because I trusted you and told you things." She shook her head. "I cannot afford to trust you, Cole."
"So, you plan to dislike me the entire time you're here?"
"I didn't say I dislike you," she corrected him. "I distrust you. There is a difference."
He couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation. What was it about Phoebe that made him want her like he did? Why did it matter to him if she trusted him or not? He watched her as she spoke, and saw that she seemed to be inching away from him and towards the entrance to the cavern.
"Don't," he warned quietly. "There's no way out of this place for you and you really are safer with me than any of the others."
Phoebe looked at him and her eyes seemed to look deep into him. "How can you say that when you could quite possibly be the biggest danger to me of all?"
"I haven't done anything to harm you," Cole said incredulously.
"Nor have you let me go." She pointed out. "You talk to me like you're a friend, when we both know that he still holds your leash and the minute he gives you further orders about me, you'll carry them out." She shook her head. "You're being nice and sweet, which makes you even more dangerous. Most people get disarmed and deeply hurt by the nice ones."
Cole frowned as he listened to her. He was damned sure that he wasn't thrilled with her assessment of the situation -- or of him. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. He had to get away from her for a little while. He needed a clear head to think - and he really couldn't think with her so close. This woman... this witch... she was getting to him in ways that he wasn't used to and it was a dangerous confusion to have.
"Stay here," he said finally. "I'll be back soon."
"What are you --"
"Just stay here," he growled at her, shimmering out of the area.
Once he was gone, and she didn't sense anyone else lurking outside of the chamber, Phoebe allowed her shoulders to slump. She moved back against a wall and slide down it. She pulled her knees to her chin and watched the opening to the chamber.
She was scared.
Dealing with the Source and his other demons was hard enough - was dangerous enough. But now? Now she had been given to the Source's number one witch killer. She knew of Belthazor by reputation and what she had seen in the Book of Shadows. She had expected one day that she would come face to face with the most dangerous one of the Source's men... but she had never expected it to be anything like this. These circumstances were not what she would have chosen.
She wanted to go home.
Even as she wished it, she knew it wasn't possible -- not right now. For the sake of everyone she loved, this was where she had to stay. She had survived here for over a year. A few more shouldn't really be that much of a problem. Time enough for Paige and Piper to get control over their new powers. Time enough for --
No.
She couldn't think about that right now. She couldn't afford to even let a whisper of that thought enter her mind. There were too many enemies down here and there were too few guardians up there. Her staying down here guaranteed a measure of safety for those that she loved above.
It didn't make the loneliness and the fear easier, though. It didn't make the cold and the pain go away.
It didn't stop the tears she allowed herself to shed when she knew that no one was around to see or hear them. Like hell she was going to give the Source or his henchmen any sign of weakness like that.
Weaknesses like tears.
Tears like the ones she was trying to fight back and bury in her knees. She tightened her arms around her knees as her shoulders shook from the sobs she kept trying to hold in. Her face was hidden by her hair and she was being very careful not to make a sound. The last thing she needed right now was to draw out any curious demons; demons who would love to use her pain to their own advantage and perhaps cause her more pain.
When she had first forged the agreement to come down here, she hadn't thought that it would be that bad. She knew that the Source didn't dare kill her or let too much happen to her. He knew what could happen to him and his power if she was killed. He knew what her family -- past and present -- would do to him if she ceased to be part of the world. She soon learned that the Source could do things to make her suffer that could be considered to be far worse than killing her.
Still she stayed. She endured. She dealt with the cruelty and the torture. She didn't have a choice.
Oh, her family would argue... they had tried to do so, in fact. Prue had been furious with her decision... but when it had come time for her to go, it had been Prue who backed her up against Piper and Paige. Leo... Leo hadn't liked the sacrifice she was making, but he understood why she was doing it. He had guessed from the things she was saying that she had seen something -- something having to do with his family. Before she was taken down to the Underworld, she had seen gratitude mixed with the sadness in his eyes. However, the last words with her sisters had torn at her.
"Damn it, Phoebe, think about what you're doing! You're turning yourself -- a Charmed One -- over to the bad guys!" Piper's voice had been shaking.
"I know what I'm doing, Piper," she had argued. "I don't have a choice. Paige needs time to get comfortable with her powers and --"
"Don't you dare use me as an excuse for sacrificing yourself!" Paige snapped angrily.
Tears had been flowing down Phoebe's face as she stood apart from her family, trying to get them to see why they had no choice but to let her go with the Source's minions. "I made a deal, Piper. It's a deal that I can't go back on."
"You made a deal with the Source of All Evil! Of course you can go back on it," Prue yelled at her.
"I can't!" Phoebe wailed. "You don't understand!" The anger and despair that she was picking up from her family was tearing her apart, but she knew that there was no choice but for her to do this.
A quiet voice cut into the fight. "Then makes us understand, Phoebe. Make me understand why you are willingly turning yourself over to the people that have been trying to kill you guys for years -- the people who killed my partner." Darryl's eyes were piercing as he looked at her. "Make me understand, Phoebe. Because I really don't see a good reason for you to be perpetrating such a betrayal."
She looked at him and there was sorrow in her eyes. In the end she pulled Prue and Darryl aside, and in a halting voice she told them about her premonition and what she had seen -- why she had to do what she was doing.
"Oh Phoebe," Prue had whispered and then hugged her tightly.
Darryl had run his hand over her hair and shook his head. "There's no other way?"
She had shaken her head. "Not if we're going to keep them safe." She swallowed. "It's only a few years. I can hang on for a few years, right? Then you guys can storm in and rescue me."
Prue had taken Phoebe with her to the attic, forbidding everyone else from going with them. Once there, they had summoned the ghosts of Penny and Patty to tell them what Phoebe was going to do. To Prue's horror and anger, her mother and grandmother told them that the Elders knew what had happened... and that they agreed that for the good of everything, Phoebe had to be sacrificed to the Underworld.
"Those bastards!" Prue exploded.
"Even with Phoebe lost, there are still three Charmed Ones so they think..."
"Phoebe is my baby sister, not just a Charmed One," Prue had burst out. "The Power of Four is much stronger than the Power of Three and if they allow anything to happen to her..."
"There's nothing we can do," Phoebe had whispered in defeat.
"But we can," Penny had said quietly. "I have no desire to see one of my granddaughters dead." Her voice was threaded with steel. "Prue, you tell that evil bastard that if anything happens to Phoebe -- if she dies -- it will mean the end of him. Tell him that you and your remaining sisters will summon all of the deceased spirits of the Warren-Halliwell line and we will destroy him."
Patty looked at Phoebe. "I know it's not much, sweetheart, but it will keep him from killing you outright. He'll be too afraid of what we would do."
"And the Elders?" Phoebe questioned softly.
"Leave them to us," Patty said firmly.
Penny gave a sad smile. "We're so proud of you, my darling girl."
Phoebe managed to smile slightly at them. She didn't want them to be proud of her for this - she didn't want to have to be doing this. She had wanted someone else to come up with an answer so she didn't have to sacrifice herself to The Source...
When he came for her, Prue and Darryl were with her. Prue had made sure that The Source knew what would happen if Phoebe died in the Underworld.
"I could kill you both and take her anyway," he had laughed.
"Do you really want to test that?"
Phoebe was pulled from her musings by the feel of someone coming into the chamber. Before she could get to her feet and react, something slammed into her and the world went dark.
Phoebe regained consciousness slowly. Her head and chest hurt and she wasn't sure why. When she felt hands moving up her legs, her eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, and found that her wrists and ankles were chained to the altar. She lifted her head as much as she could and saw one demon kneeling at her feet, and another one standing at her side. When she caught sight of the athames they were holding, her mouth went dry.
The one standing next to the altar smiled when he saw she was awake. He moved up to her face, drawing the athame down her cheek. "Hello, little Oracle."
Phoebe's eyes widened at the knife pressed to her face and she couldn't do more than whimper.
He seemed to be enjoying this as his companion began moving his hands up her legs again. She felt a sudden burn of pain and realized that he had just sliced his blade into her leg. She tried to scream, but the one near her head covered her mouth violently with his hand, and shook his head.
"Not a sound out of you, witch," he hissed. "We heard that the Source gave you to Belthazor to be taught a lesson. Since he's not here, we're going to give him some help and make sure you learn your place. Now, we can't enjoy our work if you start screaming and bring the rest of the Underworld in here. There wouldn't be nothing left of you then and we wouldn't have Belthazor's gratitude."
When Phoebe felt the knife cut deeply into her other leg, she screamed into the hand that was over her mouth. The sound was muffled and tears started sliding from her eyes down into her hair. With the hand over her mouth and that blade moving along her face, she could feel herself start to panic. When the other demon moved his knife up to her thigh, Phoebe felt terror flooding through her. They were going to carve pieces of her up... not to mention anything else they might decide to do her.
Help me! Please somebody help me!
The thought became an empathic scream as she felt the knife come down into her hip.
Author:
shadowcatRating: PG-13.
Word Count: 10,636
Fandom: Charmed AU
Character(s): Phoebe Halliwell, Belthazor/Cole Turner, The Source Of All Evil
Challenge: Written for
witchesbigbangSummary: The first time Belthazor/Cole meets Phoebe, she's a prisoner of the The Source of All Evil in the Underworld and his Oracle. He doesn't know why she's there and why she hasn't been rescued, and Phoebe's not telling him anything -- nor is she offering more than a token resistance to anything that happens to her. Cole is determined to find out why she's there -- and what these new feelings and urges that he's feeling mean to him and who he is.
Author's Note: Warning for character assault and implied sexual situations.
He was with The Source the first time he saw her. The small brunette was laying on her side on a stone slab and her eyes were full of sadness when she looked at him. She didn't speak to him, just kept her gaze on The Source as he spoke. She never looked away from him as he moved.
"This is my pet...my Oracle...her name is Phoebe," The Source was saying as she slid off the stone slab and stood in front of The Source.
Bright One, he thought as he looked her over.
"The best part of this," The Source was saying. "She's one of the Charmed Ones," he said with a smile.
He found himself fighting not to stagger back as he looked at the Oracle.
Charmed Ones? What was one of the Charmed Ones doing here in the Underworld?
The Oracle dropped her eyes so that he couldn't see them, but from the way she held herself, she was frightened and she was in pain.
Mine.
The sudden thought that exploded within his brain surprised him.
Mine.
His demon self and his human self was laying a claim to the Oracle that belonged to The Source...The Source who had more power than he could ever hope to go up against. He watched with narrowed eyes as The Source circled the Oracle.
"Ah, Phoebe," he hissed as his hand found its way to her throat and he squeezed lightly, making her look at him. "Still so defiant, still full of hope that you will find a way to escape."
"I serve as I must..."
Such simple words...but there was no defeat lacing those words.
He clenched his fists behind his back as he watched The Source shove Phoebe --- Bright One --- against the wall. She didn't resist, but he could see her muscles tightening as she struggled not to fight back, and this made him curious.
"See how she caves before me, Belthazor?" The Source asked. "Part of her wants to fight, but the other part of her knows that she is powerless to resist. I own her."
It happened faster than he expected, and even then, he didn't know if he would have tried to stop her. She said something in a soft tongue and The Source was flung back against the opposite wall. After a moment, The Source straightened with a growl and extended his hand in a whipping motion. The Oracle's head snapped to the side, and three lines of blood opened up on her cheek.
"The kitten has grown claws again," he said in a gravelly voice. "How shall I clip them this time?"
Belthazor watched with great interest as Phoebe bared her teeth at The Source. She glared at him in hatred even as her head whipped to the other side and blood appeared on that side of her face, too.
Mine! came that voice inside him again and it was getting angrier with every blow that the Oracle took from The Source. Mine! How dare he strike what belonged to him?! Of course, the fact that he was laying claim to something that belonged to his liege slipped his mind.
"You forget, little Oracle, what I can do to you if I choose."
"I forget nothing," Phoebe said in a soft voice. "I also don't forget that you dare not kill me."
This was beginning to get interesting, and Belthazor leaned against one of the wall to see how this played out.
The Source grabbed Phoebe and slammed her against the wall. With his other hand, he caressed her cheek.
"There are things that can be much more satisfying than killing you slowly, Phoebe."
"Perhaps," she whispered softly, "But we both know what will happen if you damage me too badly."
The Source pulled back with a wicked grin. "I think I shall let my best play with you for awhile. Then, perhaps you won't be so prideful and remember that I suffer you to live."
Phoebe's eyes widened as he gestured at Belthazor.
"Belthazor."
What the hell is going on?! He's giving her to me?
"Yes, Liege?"
"I want you to to take my little Oracle with you for the next few nights...maybe longer."
Excuse me?
"My lord?"
"Phoebe obviously needs a lesson in the fact that there are worse punishments than me." He smiled. "So, she should be the special guest of my best witch assassin for the foreseeable future. She is yours. Do as you wish with her, but...do not kill her. You must not kill her." There was a slight quiver in The Source's voice, but it was only there for the barest of seconds.
He saw the flicker of fear in the Oracle's eyes and he cursed The Source for saying that about him being his assassin of witches. Her fear of him was the last thing he wanted.
"Show her...a very good time, Belthazor." The Source said. He smiled cruelly. "Show her your best."
"Yes, my Liege." He bowed and stayed bowed until he felt The Source leave. Then he slowly straightened and stared at the Oracle in silence for several long moments.
Phoebe stared back at him. There was fear in the depths of her brown eyes, but there was also defiance in them. He took a step towards her, and she flattened herself against the wall as she looked for a way to escape. He stopped, watching her.
"It won't do you any good, Bright One," he said gently. "Even if you get away from us, how will you get out of the Underworld? I doubt you are a teleporter---and a White Lighter obviously cannot hear you from down here."
The Oracle frowned at him. "What does a demon know of White Lighters?" she asked.
"I know that they are the Guardian Angels of witches...and that yours obviously failed you."
"Leo..."
"Is obviously a dolt?" Belthazor supplied.
The Oracle's eyes darkened with anger. "You don't know anything about us or about Leo, so don't presume to pass judgment on him."
"He's not a very good White Lighter if you are here, a prisoner of the Source."
"I suppose you've killed enough witches that you've learned a thing or two about White Lighters?"
"A thing or two," Belthazor admitted.
The Oracle sat on the stone slab. "You kill witches."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's what I do." It's what I'm ordered to do.
"And now you're going to rape and torture me because that is what you do."
He twitched inwardly when she said those words so calmly. He looked into her eyes again and he could see that she had been through several kinds of tortures since coming into The Source's possession.
"How long have you been here?" he questioned quietly.
She looked at him, not sure why he was interested. "Over a year, I think."
He frowned. "And why hasn't your White Lighter come to your rescue?"
She ducked her head. "Probably afraid that he would be ambushed and he cannot risk that."
Belthazor was at her side in a flash and he raised her head so that he could see into her eyes...see into her soul.
Mine. That damned inner voice again.
He nudged at her mind with his and looked around a bit, then he felt a door in her mind slam against him, throwing him out of her head. That was very interesting.
"Never bow your head in my presence, Bright One," Belthazor said softly. "When I speak to you, or you speak to me, I wish to see your eyes."
There was a flash of something in her eyes and he felt very strange when holding her like that. He felt like he was being pulled into her soul.
"Bright One?" she questioned suspiciously.
"Phoebe means bright one or shining one...thus, I have decided that I should call you Bright One. It will be my own name for you."
She frowned in confusion and he saw disbelief in her eyes. "Why should you give me a private name like this," she asked softly. "Is this some sort of new trick?"
Belthazor shook his head. "No trick, Oracle," he assured her. "I am not The Source...or any of his others. I am me. I want you to be able to differentiate between us in both your mind and your soul."
"Why?"
Belthazor frowned, and squeezed her chin gently. "Because that is what I wish, Bright One," he said in a firm voice.
Phoebe nodded slightly. "Yes, Belthazor."
He flinched inwardly. For some reason, being called by that name by her really bothered him. "My name...is Cole," he finally said.
What was it about this witch that was breaking down so many of his barriers that he had built up over the centuries? No one had called him Cole since his father was killed all of those years ago. And yet...
And yet...
"Keep that name between the two of us, Bright One," he commanded softly. He let go of her chin and brushed her hair back from her bloody cheeks. He would have to make sure to get those cleaned and healed up. They would also have to do something about her clothing. He was suddenly feeling very possessive and didn't want any of the other demons down here seeing his Phoebe looking like an Egyptian Temple Dancer. He stared down into her brown eyes again. "Now, tell me truthfully, for I'll know if you lie, why hasn't your dolt of a White Lighter come to rescue you?"
Phoebe swallowed and fought to force her eyes to stay locked on his. "He has...more important things to do than trying to rescue me from a pit of demons," she said softly.
Belthazor shook his head. "Not good enough, Bright One," he said in a very firm voice. "You are one of the fabled Charmed Ones. What could be more pressing...more important than rescuing a Charmed One from torture and keeping her safe?"
Phoebe frowned at him, desperation in her eyes...and he knew there was a lot more to this situation than she was telling or that The Source knew.
"How do I know you will not run to The Source with anything that I tell you?" she demanded. "I have been here for over a year and you are the first one to think about what the situation must be like where my White Lighter is concerned."
It was a fair question.
"Because I am telling you that I will not betray your confidence."
"You're a demon! Betrayal is what you do!"
"I'm only half-demon," he said quietly, shocking the hell out of himself. "I'm also half-human."
Phoebe cocked her head and then lay her hand against the side of his face. She stared into his eyes for a very long time---at least it seemed to him that it was a very long time. She finally nodded and then removed her hand, stepping back.
"You're telling the truth."
"Of course I'm telling the truth," he grumbled. "Telepath or Empath?"
Phoebe smiled faintly...sadly. "Empath...but I do have a sort of telepathy that seems to have started developing since I have been here."
This pretty Oracle was dangerous...very dangerous to The Source indeed.
"What else can you do?"
"I'm not allowed to use my powers in the Underworld. Your owner or leader has forbidden the use of my powers --- except my powers that serve him..."
"As you belong to me now, I am ordering you to show me what else you are able to do."
Phoebe sighed. She held out her hand and fire shot from her fingers to explode against the wall across from them. "Sometimes, that works." She shrugged. "I have no idea where that came from as I haven't been able to do that in this lifetime until a few months ago."
Nice. Potentially useful.
"I can clearly see the future...as you no doubt already know. However, I can also see the past."
Empathy, telepathy, fire-throwing and premonitions...The Source was nurturing a very powerful...very dangerous enemy.
"Now," Belthazor said calmly. "Let's get back to our conversation about your White Lighter."
Phoebe sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"Where is he and why hasn't he come to get you the hell out of here?"
Phoebe frowned and looked down for a long time. She wasn't sure she should trust this demon, as The Source did call him his favourite. However, he did say he wouldn't betray her or her confidences.
"Leo...Leo is protecting my three sisters. When I got attacked and grabbed, Leo did try to come and rescue me. I wouldn't let him. The future...the future said that Leo was needed with my sisters."
Belthazor was getting angry. "So, he did as you said with no argument and didn't even try to help you? What kind of a White Lighter is he?!"
"One that trusts what his witch sees and decides to do," Phoebe snapped back at him.
"If you were my witch-"
"I'd be dead now, correct?"
When she looked at him like that he could feel himself growing uncomfortable. "I protect what is mine," he finally said.
"Even from The Source?"
"If it's important enough to me."
Phoebe tilted her head and looked at him for a long moment. "How do you decide if something is important enough to you to protect it from the one that claims to hold your leash?"
"I just know...somehow, I know."
Phoebe sat on the altar slab again. He would definitely need to get her better clothes. As much as he enjoyed seeing her limbs and seeing her flesh, he refused to let anyone else see her in this state of dress ever again.
"Do you know at the same time he knows...?"
"He cannot read my thoughts or my emotions."
"Then how am I able to?"
He did a mental somersault at her words. "How are you able to what?"
"Read your emotions."
Belthazor stared at her. "You can read my...my emotions?"
Phoebe nodded at him. "Yes, I can. Right now a few of them are exceptionally strong."
Okay, she was a very dangerous weapon...and the Source had given her to him.
"Does the Source know?"
"That I'm an Empath?" Phoebe shook her head. "I've managed to keep that little tidbit hidden from him."
"That's a good thing, Bright One. Letting him know you can do something like that can be very dangerous."
"You mean even more dangerous than it already is for me here," she said sarcastically.
She had a point. "He could have you killed."
"He doesn't dare. He doesn't want to deal with the wrath of my sisters or of some of the higher powers. Why do you think I'm still alive? It's not for my good looks. And it's not just because he needs my powers of premonitions." She looked at him. "He doesn't dare kill me because he's not sure that my sisters won't summon all of the spirits of past Halliwells to end him."
"Can they do that?"
Phoebe gave him a look. "Do you honestly think that I'm stupid enough to tell you anything my sisters can do just because you're sexy as hell and being nice to me?" She shook her head. "You're still a demon and you're still helping to keep me prisoner here."
"Half-demon," he said again. For some reason, it was important to him for her to make that distinction.Though, he had to hide a smile at her comment about him being sexy. "Half-demon."
"Fine, half-demon. However, you have been given me to mess with like I am some kind of carnival prize and you're still a minion of the Source of All Evil."
"You can trust me, Phoebe," he said quietly. "I refuse to let anyone harm you."
"Until he orders you to try to break me," she said bitterly. "It's only a matter of time and he'll order you to do something and then you betray that trust and that promise."
Although he knew that she had every reason in creation to distrust him and think the worst of him, he really did not like the fact that her opinion of him was so negative. It made sense that she wouldn't believe in him, but damn it, he had told her he refused to let anyone harm her. She was HIS! Phoebe, Oracle, Charmed One... she was his and he wouldn't let anyone touch her ever again.
He let out a breath. "Bright One... I won't let... I will not hurt you. I will not allow myself to be made to hurt you."
"You're his," she said quietly. "He can force you to do anything he wants you to do."
"I'm not his," he argued, and his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. "I'm not his."
Phoebe gave him a sad look. "Don't say things you don't mean, Cole. You are as much his as I am."
"You're mine."
"Only so long as he deems it worthwhile." She said quietly. "On a whim he could take me from you and give me to another of his pets and I will be even more screwed than I was before because I trusted you and told you things." She shook her head. "I cannot afford to trust you, Cole."
"So, you plan to dislike me the entire time you're here?"
"I didn't say I dislike you," she corrected him. "I distrust you. There is a difference."
He couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation. What was it about Phoebe that made him want her like he did? Why did it matter to him if she trusted him or not? He watched her as she spoke, and saw that she seemed to be inching away from him and towards the entrance to the cavern.
"Don't," he warned quietly. "There's no way out of this place for you and you really are safer with me than any of the others."
Phoebe looked at him and her eyes seemed to look deep into him. "How can you say that when you could quite possibly be the biggest danger to me of all?"
"I haven't done anything to harm you," Cole said incredulously.
"Nor have you let me go." She pointed out. "You talk to me like you're a friend, when we both know that he still holds your leash and the minute he gives you further orders about me, you'll carry them out." She shook her head. "You're being nice and sweet, which makes you even more dangerous. Most people get disarmed and deeply hurt by the nice ones."
Cole frowned as he listened to her. He was damned sure that he wasn't thrilled with her assessment of the situation -- or of him. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. He had to get away from her for a little while. He needed a clear head to think - and he really couldn't think with her so close. This woman... this witch... she was getting to him in ways that he wasn't used to and it was a dangerous confusion to have.
"Stay here," he said finally. "I'll be back soon."
"What are you --"
"Just stay here," he growled at her, shimmering out of the area.
Once he was gone, and she didn't sense anyone else lurking outside of the chamber, Phoebe allowed her shoulders to slump. She moved back against a wall and slide down it. She pulled her knees to her chin and watched the opening to the chamber.
She was scared.
Dealing with the Source and his other demons was hard enough - was dangerous enough. But now? Now she had been given to the Source's number one witch killer. She knew of Belthazor by reputation and what she had seen in the Book of Shadows. She had expected one day that she would come face to face with the most dangerous one of the Source's men... but she had never expected it to be anything like this. These circumstances were not what she would have chosen.
She wanted to go home.
Even as she wished it, she knew it wasn't possible -- not right now. For the sake of everyone she loved, this was where she had to stay. She had survived here for over a year. A few more shouldn't really be that much of a problem. Time enough for Paige and Piper to get control over their new powers. Time enough for --
No.
She couldn't think about that right now. She couldn't afford to even let a whisper of that thought enter her mind. There were too many enemies down here and there were too few guardians up there. Her staying down here guaranteed a measure of safety for those that she loved above.
It didn't make the loneliness and the fear easier, though. It didn't make the cold and the pain go away.
It didn't stop the tears she allowed herself to shed when she knew that no one was around to see or hear them. Like hell she was going to give the Source or his henchmen any sign of weakness like that.
Weaknesses like tears.
Tears like the ones she was trying to fight back and bury in her knees. She tightened her arms around her knees as her shoulders shook from the sobs she kept trying to hold in. Her face was hidden by her hair and she was being very careful not to make a sound. The last thing she needed right now was to draw out any curious demons; demons who would love to use her pain to their own advantage and perhaps cause her more pain.
When she had first forged the agreement to come down here, she hadn't thought that it would be that bad. She knew that the Source didn't dare kill her or let too much happen to her. He knew what could happen to him and his power if she was killed. He knew what her family -- past and present -- would do to him if she ceased to be part of the world. She soon learned that the Source could do things to make her suffer that could be considered to be far worse than killing her.
Still she stayed. She endured. She dealt with the cruelty and the torture. She didn't have a choice.
Oh, her family would argue... they had tried to do so, in fact. Prue had been furious with her decision... but when it had come time for her to go, it had been Prue who backed her up against Piper and Paige. Leo... Leo hadn't liked the sacrifice she was making, but he understood why she was doing it. He had guessed from the things she was saying that she had seen something -- something having to do with his family. Before she was taken down to the Underworld, she had seen gratitude mixed with the sadness in his eyes. However, the last words with her sisters had torn at her.
"Damn it, Phoebe, think about what you're doing! You're turning yourself -- a Charmed One -- over to the bad guys!" Piper's voice had been shaking.
"I know what I'm doing, Piper," she had argued. "I don't have a choice. Paige needs time to get comfortable with her powers and --"
"Don't you dare use me as an excuse for sacrificing yourself!" Paige snapped angrily.
Tears had been flowing down Phoebe's face as she stood apart from her family, trying to get them to see why they had no choice but to let her go with the Source's minions. "I made a deal, Piper. It's a deal that I can't go back on."
"You made a deal with the Source of All Evil! Of course you can go back on it," Prue yelled at her.
"I can't!" Phoebe wailed. "You don't understand!" The anger and despair that she was picking up from her family was tearing her apart, but she knew that there was no choice but for her to do this.
A quiet voice cut into the fight. "Then makes us understand, Phoebe. Make me understand why you are willingly turning yourself over to the people that have been trying to kill you guys for years -- the people who killed my partner." Darryl's eyes were piercing as he looked at her. "Make me understand, Phoebe. Because I really don't see a good reason for you to be perpetrating such a betrayal."
She looked at him and there was sorrow in her eyes. In the end she pulled Prue and Darryl aside, and in a halting voice she told them about her premonition and what she had seen -- why she had to do what she was doing.
"Oh Phoebe," Prue had whispered and then hugged her tightly.
Darryl had run his hand over her hair and shook his head. "There's no other way?"
She had shaken her head. "Not if we're going to keep them safe." She swallowed. "It's only a few years. I can hang on for a few years, right? Then you guys can storm in and rescue me."
Prue had taken Phoebe with her to the attic, forbidding everyone else from going with them. Once there, they had summoned the ghosts of Penny and Patty to tell them what Phoebe was going to do. To Prue's horror and anger, her mother and grandmother told them that the Elders knew what had happened... and that they agreed that for the good of everything, Phoebe had to be sacrificed to the Underworld.
"Those bastards!" Prue exploded.
"Even with Phoebe lost, there are still three Charmed Ones so they think..."
"Phoebe is my baby sister, not just a Charmed One," Prue had burst out. "The Power of Four is much stronger than the Power of Three and if they allow anything to happen to her..."
"There's nothing we can do," Phoebe had whispered in defeat.
"But we can," Penny had said quietly. "I have no desire to see one of my granddaughters dead." Her voice was threaded with steel. "Prue, you tell that evil bastard that if anything happens to Phoebe -- if she dies -- it will mean the end of him. Tell him that you and your remaining sisters will summon all of the deceased spirits of the Warren-Halliwell line and we will destroy him."
Patty looked at Phoebe. "I know it's not much, sweetheart, but it will keep him from killing you outright. He'll be too afraid of what we would do."
"And the Elders?" Phoebe questioned softly.
"Leave them to us," Patty said firmly.
Penny gave a sad smile. "We're so proud of you, my darling girl."
Phoebe managed to smile slightly at them. She didn't want them to be proud of her for this - she didn't want to have to be doing this. She had wanted someone else to come up with an answer so she didn't have to sacrifice herself to The Source...
When he came for her, Prue and Darryl were with her. Prue had made sure that The Source knew what would happen if Phoebe died in the Underworld.
"I could kill you both and take her anyway," he had laughed.
"Do you really want to test that?"
Phoebe was pulled from her musings by the feel of someone coming into the chamber. Before she could get to her feet and react, something slammed into her and the world went dark.
Phoebe regained consciousness slowly. Her head and chest hurt and she wasn't sure why. When she felt hands moving up her legs, her eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, and found that her wrists and ankles were chained to the altar. She lifted her head as much as she could and saw one demon kneeling at her feet, and another one standing at her side. When she caught sight of the athames they were holding, her mouth went dry.
The one standing next to the altar smiled when he saw she was awake. He moved up to her face, drawing the athame down her cheek. "Hello, little Oracle."
Phoebe's eyes widened at the knife pressed to her face and she couldn't do more than whimper.
He seemed to be enjoying this as his companion began moving his hands up her legs again. She felt a sudden burn of pain and realized that he had just sliced his blade into her leg. She tried to scream, but the one near her head covered her mouth violently with his hand, and shook his head.
"Not a sound out of you, witch," he hissed. "We heard that the Source gave you to Belthazor to be taught a lesson. Since he's not here, we're going to give him some help and make sure you learn your place. Now, we can't enjoy our work if you start screaming and bring the rest of the Underworld in here. There wouldn't be nothing left of you then and we wouldn't have Belthazor's gratitude."
When Phoebe felt the knife cut deeply into her other leg, she screamed into the hand that was over her mouth. The sound was muffled and tears started sliding from her eyes down into her hair. With the hand over her mouth and that blade moving along her face, she could feel herself start to panic. When the other demon moved his knife up to her thigh, Phoebe felt terror flooding through her. They were going to carve pieces of her up... not to mention anything else they might decide to do her.
Help me! Please somebody help me!
The thought became an empathic scream as she felt the knife come down into her hip.
It's possible that I'm enjoying this too much
Date: 2012-03-27 12:16 am (UTC)Whaddaya say, Bel?
"Mine!"
That's what I thought.
Poor Phoebe. That's a heck of a thing to do with no more protection than, "The Source probably won't actually kill you."
I liked that it seemed worth it to her to point out the Source's slight error: she's helpless to succeed in defeating the Source permanently, but she's certainly not helpless to resist by, e.g., throwing him across the room.