Tributes

Chapter Sixteen

It was about a day later when Tyreol finally decided to go and see his new tribute again and see if a day's isolation had cooled his temper. Tyreol returned to the nameless man's room. The boys were being tutored and Julia was baking something in her makeshift kitchen meaning he wouldn't be disturbed for this. Tyreol had seen people go either way. Some turned hotter, other when ice cole and some calmed and were more willing to talk and discuss their futures. 

The room was tidy, interestingly. The man was sitting on the floor, next to the bed, looking calmer but no happier than the day before. He was holding a ball and had been throwing it up and down, though he stopped as Tyreol entered the room. The man's eyes met his and there was tension there instantly. Sizing each other up.

"You didn't force me," the man said finally. "I thought you were about too, but you didn't."

Tyreol shrugged, closing the door and making sure it was locked. "Forcing you would have either ensured your hatred of me or broken you. Neither are things I want," he explained, guessing this man was the sort who needed things explained in order to accept them. 

"So forcing me is still an opinion if you think it will have the right effect," the man commented darkly, watching Tyreol's every move like he was just going to attack him at any moment. He gripping the ball tightly ready to throw it. His muscles were tense and Tyreol could help but be amused by it all.

"I don't intend to force you, if that is the question," Tyreol shrugged lightly, "I rarely take unwilling partners." They weren't as fun and the power trip was not as nice as the feeling he got with being with someone he cared for. He liked the pillow talk afterwards. He enjoyed teasing and snuggling and generally having a good time with his lovers. He didn't enjoy having to deal with an emotional fallout or whatever else happened after he had forced someone.

"But you have forced people before," the man challenged.

Tyreol hummed, musing how best to explain the situations those times had been. "The games of the gods are dangerous. Fights can kill. More often than not you fight someone you don't want to kill, but have to put in their place," the god explained, wriggling his fingers thoughtfully, "People who challenge my position for example, or who try to bring harm on the valley. I can't always kill them. But fucking them? It's a humiliation to have overpowered so badly. Willing is one thing, forced is another." 

Tyreol sat down opposite the man so he was not looming but at equal height. He wasn't close enough that they were touching but certainly close enough that he could grab the man if he tried to make a break for it. It was time to try another route if the human wanted to talk about such things. 

"So as long as I don't rage war on the valley and don't challenge your rule, my ass is safe?" the man joked weakly.  Tyreol could tell the man was trying to be humorous but he was too nervous to make it work right.

"You would have to define safe. While I won't force you, I do reserve the right to grope, not to mention punish, that tight arse of yours," Tyreol rumbled, smirking slightly and letting a flash of fang out. The man's eyes flashed with disgust but he nodded stiffly, looking down at his hand. Tyreol's mark shining brightly on it, nice and red. Still very fresh.

"I have no choice with you, I know that," the human breathed. "But I won't stand it from others," he warned, eyes meeting Tyreol's again with a fire in them.