Title: Empty Girl
E-Mail: haunted_dildo⊕yahoo.com
Rating: R
Couples: UC... it'll spoil the surprise if I tell LOL
Disclaimer: Not mine. The stuff in parentasis is lyrics to Rexall and Hungry by Dave Navarro (I don't think the 1st one is right, but that's what it sounds like)
Note: If you only like your Roswell Fic happy and carefree, this is definately not it... and tell me what you think... I wanted to write something like this for a while (and usually this "somethings" are adorable 1 parters so if it sucks, then oh well...) I don't know if I'm as happy with it now as I was when I was writing it, but this is what got penned down listening to Dave Navarro. So feedback would be nice (even if you hate it... ROTFLMAO) (and some of the language that's used in the dialog is for emphasis because I amuse myself when people talk like that...)

I wonder how this all started. It used to be so perfect, but now the illusion has faded… I am no longer his equal, I am his superior, but he doesn’t know that yet. It is all right, he has allowed me to become strong, powerful and cold. Things that I used to abhor suddenly keep me sane and I revel in them. I want him like a drug – I think it is either vindication or revenge – but I know that I crave his strong body, my nails raking themselves into his back… the sex, his sex, is like nothing I’ve ever tasted. For the briefest moment I feel alive and I love him for that.

(there is no love left in your eyes there is love between your thighs)

He never kisses me when we make love, at least not anymore, maybe we did before… but those times have long passed. I hardly see why I persist in calling it making love – it is sex, pure and simple. He still makes sure that I come, unlike the others. I think that this gives me some special status with him, that I am the king’s number one whore and I like that. It makes everyone think that we are in love… maybe we are, in a figurative sense. We both love revenge and we want the same man to hurt like we have and we love that there is someone who can hate like we hate.

(there is nothing left of me, don’t make me say it)

I was informed that tonight my lover had prepared a special surprise for me. The last surprise he gave me was delicious, he let me kill my old friends – they never appreciated me anyway. My intelligence, my cunning, my loyalty were of no consequence to them. It was almost as good as his sex. He had wanted an heir maybe he has decided to tell me that I am chosen. We are of different worlds, but we are more alike than we would ever acknowledge. Both of us were driven insane, driven to hate, driven to love.

(I hate my life I hate my life…)

I walked to the room… our room and smiled wickedly at what I saw. He always knows how to make me happy and this – this is pure ecstasy. His broad chest is bare and oiled; his dark eyes filled with lust – lust for me and hatred for him – the threat of dreams, the threat to power. He sat chained across from our bed bloodied and alone. I think he quite liked watching his son die before his eyes today; it was my idea, my fantasy, I am glad to see that it went so well. His eyes were dark as I approached, haunted by what once was… I looked at him, my lover, a silent plea for permission; he smiled viciously and nodded, but advised me to keep him alive. I walked towards him, my face fixed; lacking the emotion that once danced across my face, another thing that he took from me. My lover is grateful to him for it, as I am… it has made us strong.

(had enough of feeling sick… had enough of feeling sick)

“Why?” He shouted confused by how all of this came to pass. Obviously, he had not been paying attention when I was dying inside.

(the sugar never helps.)
I slapped him across the face, hoping that he would bleed for me, but he did not. Too bad, it would have been nice if he bled just once, like I bled over and over again for him. “You are a prisoner and as such you have no right to speak to me in such a vile manner. How IS your son by the way? Did he squeal like a little girl when they killed him? Did he die slowly? Oh it’s so much better when they die slowly… it makes the kill that much sweeter. I hope you are aware that it was all my idea.” The pained expression on his face would forever be remembered as one of my greatest conquests. “You know, if you’re a good little puppy we may just let you join him and your whore.”

My king laughed at him while I joined him on our bed and planted loving kisses on my lips. “My love, I am glad to see that you approve of our new toy. However, that is not all I have for you this evening. I am going to make you my wife, the whores will be slaughtered at dawn and you, my pet, will bare me an heir who will possess all the strength and power that we share and he will one day rule the lands of Antar in our image.”

I kissed him lovingly, elated that he cared enough about me to devote his gorgeous cock only to me. That I had not expected. “Why my lord, you spoil me. I am honored to be your queen and I wish to be filled with your seed tonight… I want the puppy to see what he has missed. Oh and would it not it be lovely to kill him in front of his supporters on our wedding day?” My brown eyes danced for the first time in years at the thought.

He raked a hand through my hair and smiled his special smile, the one of blood lust, before turning to the crying boy, the boy I had once loved, the boy who had killed me. “You see dear Zan I have everything that you wanted, your kingdom, your family, the loyalty of your people and the love of your Elizabeth. It is I, Kivar, who makes her come again and again… it is Elizabeth who craves my touch, my sex.” He laughed wickedly and kissed me to make his point while I ran my hands over his broad chest to illustrate my love of his body. “I have won you see.”

Max glared at me with hatred, the same hatred that I had for him. At least we still had something in common after all these years. I met his gaze with my own cold eyes. “She is not my Liz.”

I laughed and looked at my love while he laughed – I wanted him inside of me, the thought of Max hating me made me long for Kivar even more. “That is where you are wrong Max. I am exactly what you made me… cold, emotionless, hateful, powerful, wicked, conniving, shall I go on? This is what has become of your Liz, all because her Max slept with a killer. But see, Max was a killer; he killed Liz Parker and in her place is Elizabeth, the merciless wife of Kivar. I never loved you; I hope you realize that now… I was obligated to you, I may have convinced myself that I did want you, but it was never like how I am with him. With my king it is primal; with you… it was a cheep thrill.”

Kivar grabbed me while planting urgent kisses on my body and removing my dress. “Come Liz, your words have aroused me in such a way… I want to be inside of you now.” He thrust inside of me while we moved together as one body. I understood, we were bonding, no longer was this sex, this was love… our love. His movements were no longer quick and erratic but drawn out and loving. He loved me tonight, it was what I had wanted and now I had it. But it was still laced with hatred, it would always be laced with hatred, and that is what made it so intoxicating. We released together and his seed spread through me and created a child within my womb. It was a child that should have been Max’s, but will now have the bravado of its father and the intelligence of its mother and through it we will learn to love each other and then, in time, ourselves.

(let me hit myself, I’m starting to feel)

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 3-Feb-2002 3:27:48 AM ]