Trinket (Reverse Harem)

Nothing I Won't Give Them

"What the hell is 'flagellation'?" I demanded back in Ormiss' quarters.

"It means to be whipped," Asund translated.

"Oh, no, wolf," Ormiss said tightly. "For Hippocamp, it is far worse. The whip, I mean. It is a special whip, made with shells and barnacles from the hide of sharks. It has no equal on land. It flays the penitent alive. I have only done it once. To someone who very much deserved it."

"Negotiating from a position of extraordinary weakness has severe disadvantages," Korr said, tone dark.

"You did well against her," Ormiss said. "Very well. She was prepared to do exactly as she threatened to do. But she's correct: my people will want to see land-dwellers punished. Not just for this, but for my cousin. That is what this is truly about."

"I know," Korr said. "I suspect the next thing she would have done had we refused would be to strip you of your standing. Which would have been fine if I had thought she'd have merely banished you to the land—"

"Why, thank you for presuming that is anything I would care to live with."

"—but I knew it would not be where she stopped. She would make you remain here. The wound your cousin's disappearance caused is apparent on her. You can see it in her eyes," Korr gestured to his face. "The clench of her jaw, the way she holds her shoulders, the timbre of her voice when I got her to speak of your cousin."

Ormiss paused. "Very clever, dragon."

"Yes, I know. It is what I do." Korr said. "You cannot reason with a grieving mother that wants blood for what happened to her child, the wrongs she believes her loved ones have endured."

"What did you negotiate at all?!" I shouted. "I don't like Ormiss best of all of you!"

"She had to think you did," Korr said tiredly. "She had to think Ormiss was winning, and we are all degenerate swine."

"Well, it's not fucking true! None of what I said in there was true! I said terrible, terrible things!"

"All the means to an end," Korr said.

"Fuck your ends!"

"Eventually."

"So what are we going to do?" I demanded. "We can't go through with this."

Silence.

Ethat tucked himself into a corner in dragon-form, looking withered again, and pressed his head against the wall, neck arched, and trilling miserably to himself.

Korr, suddenly exhausted looking, sat down on one of the couches and closed his eyes. Trickles of blood oozed out from under the scab on his chest. I swore under my breath, snapped up a random dainty cloth from a sidetable and pressed it over the wound. He flinched and twitched, I swore again, and more gently daubed at it.

Assund and Itek exchanged looks. Asund said, "I volunteer."

"What? No!" I exclaimed. "No! No one is getting whipped!"

"It's the only way," Asund said. "I'm healthy, I'm a wolf, I'll heal up quickly. How many lashes is it, horse-fish?"

"Thirteen," Ormiss said. "And to retain your dignity, you cannot make a sound, although no one manages that past the third, and most are not coherent after the eighth. There is...training...to wield this whip, wolf. I cannot do less than honor dictates I do."

Assund scoffed. "As if I would expect it. Flay me, horse-fish, and let's stop this stupid bickering between land and sea. Your aunt is expecting us to refuse. I'll give your people the land-blood they want. It won't fix anything but it will shut them up while they choke on the gore."