Tag: Nik Nitsvetov

I vanquish every enemy.

In this scene from Origin of Pietas, as he's healing from catastrophic injuries, Pietas muses about pain.

Excerpt from Origin of Pietas

Pietas had taught himself, disciplined himself never to fear pain. To welcome it. Invite it. Embrace it. Make pain and death a regular part of his life. Whatever frightened him, he ran toward. Pain was joy. He conquered it. Made it his lover. Made it his own. Absorbed it into himself.

When you fear nothing, nothing is a threat.

Now? Did he fear pain now? Pietas mulled that. Well, he no longer had to wonder about pain that didn't end. He'd experienced it.

Conquered it.

Did he want to repeat it?

He finished his food and took a long, satisfying breath of clean air.

Not if he could avoid it. But dying every day for a year would be a good exercise for his immortal warriors. If you survived that kind of peril, you'd survive anything. And no threat the enemy brought would be worse than what he could do to them.

He'd have to give that some serious thought. Maybe train them that way, one soldier at a time. Teach them to embrace death the way he did.

An army of soldiers like that...the galaxy could not stop.

My body submits to my will.

When it comes to matters of decisions, Pietas is an alpha. The only time in Origin of Pietas that he uses the word submit is when he's refusing to do so. Submits is only used in the ritual.

"Water submits to my presence the way enemies submit to my will."

"My body submits to my will. No pain defeats me. No fear touches me."

It surprised me that in Ring of the Dragon, where Pietas has a romantic partner, that he is more of a switch. He has no issue not being in charge with the right person. In fact, he rather prefers not to be the lead. Who knew?

Excerpt from Ring of the Dragon

In this scene, Pietas is talking to Dark Hair, who has just finished having a bath. He'd hired the Kin female to help him find a missing hynder (horse) for Cyken. When Pietas had dried her afterward, she asked whom he'd served prior to her, and he told her it was a king. It opens with her speaking.

"The one you serve. You love him. Humans call this gay, yes?"

She'd deduced that about him, had she? Except he was not gay, straight, bisexual, or any of those other labels. He was a healthy person with a healthy sexual appetite who loved the finest of everything. If you wanted the utter truth, he was sapiosexual, attracted to intelligent people.

Like Cyken.

Biting his lips, Pietas shook his head. "Not lovers anymore."

She stroked his wet cheeks, drying his face. "Good."

He drew back. "Good? Why?"

"He not deserve you."

Pietas broke into a smile. After taking her hands, he pressed his mouth against each palm in turn. "Thank you. I needed that."

"You welcome. Is truth." She took the towel. "Your turn."

The hot water looked perfect, but he shook his head. "I can't."

"You want clean water?"

"No. I..." He shook his head.

She shifted position and sat on the floor beside him. "What you need?"

"I injured my shoulders." Thousands of years before. "They didn't heal right. Leaning on my arms is--" He turned his head. "I live with pain. Getting in and out of a tub is...."

"How often this pain?"

Constant. Unending. A river of pain he endured every moment. Pietas shared that detail with no one except Uurah, and Tiklaus, whom he could never fool. He couldn't hide it from Joss, whose unblockable telepathy laid bare every secret. Not even Cyken knew it was constant. Why should he trust Dark Hair?

"It never stops."

She brushed back his hair and kissed him on the forehead. "You wait." She stood and left the room.

Pietas struggled to his feet, but as he took a step toward the door, it opened.

Dark Hair dragged a small chair into the room and placed the two back legs into the tub. "Take off clothes. Sit."

"What are you going to do?"

"Help you bath." Still nude herself, she assisted him in undressing and then directed him to sit. Standing behind him in the tub, she wound his hair up and looped it around, making it stay in place. How, he could not fathom, but he'd give anything to have her teach his valet that trick. He'd never manage it himself. He could barely brush it.

Using the sponge, Dark Hair drizzled water over him and then scrubbed his back. "No scars, nahee. How you injure?"

He could not explain without revealing what he was. Mortals who discovered the power of healing in an immortal's blood never let them live in freedom. So the immortals looked out for mankind, protected and cared for them, but never told.

"Torture."

She hissed. "Why you not say?"

Because he'd rather suffer a thousand deaths than let his people think him weak. "I--" No half-truths. Not about this. Not with her. "Ashamed. I should have found a way out. I should have..." No, he could still not, even all these thousands of years later make himself admit he should have called out. As alien to his nature to admit weakness as it was to kindle fire using dirt.

Dark Hair climbed out of the tub, came around and cupped both wet hands around his face. She looked him straight in the eyes. "You not take shame. The ahnahori who did this. They take shame."

Ahnahori. Monster. "Thank you."

She stood straight. "Tomorrow, we not find hynder, we get different room. With shower. You do shower?"

"I love a hot shower. Feels great on my shoulders."

"Good." Dark Hair kissed him. With a knowing smile, she went back to scrubbing. "Now I see why you like female on top."