Ulricke's Vendetta

["Dayna Baldwin" <slayerette@mindspring.com>]

<<OOC NOTE:  This log contains scenes of a rather adult nature.  If torture, implied incest, and implied sex turn your stomach or offend you, don't read this log.  You've been duly warned.>>

 

 

Dune III - Ulricke - Sunday, September 09, 2001, 4:12 AM
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Chamber of Blades -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) 

A hexagonal chamber brightly lit by suspensor globes. The walls of the chamber are a soft blue soapstone; the floor is polished black marble that is worn as if it's seen much use. Harkonnen banners are hung on all the walls. A large circle has been marked off in the center of the room for sword and shield fighting. The southern area of the chamber is fitted with a variety of exercise devices. House personnel mill about, some practicing sword and pistol, some merely observing.
Exits:
Hatch <D> leads to Grav Tank -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
Archway <N> leads to Slave Pits -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) 

 

Deirdre walks in from Slave Pits through the Archway.
Deirdre has arrived.
Deirdre arrives, escorted by the guards. 

 

Fahahd walks in from Slave Pits through the Archway.
Fahahd has arrived. 

 

Ulricke is sitting and waiting on one of the benches. A peculiar chair has been set before her - the straps at wrists and ankles do not look comforting.

 

Deirdre waits calmly to be told the reason for this 'audience'. There is no emotion on her face.

 

Hektor walks in from Slave Pits through the Archway.
Hektor has arrived. 

 

Fahahd is on hand, to the right and behind Ulricke. His face is utterly expressionlses.

 

Hektor is following at a respectful distence, stopping at the very enterence to the chamber of blades...

 

Ulricke gestures to Deirdre, smiling companionably. Sick Harkonnen that she is, she's enjoying this. "Do sit down, Bean Counter." she says, gesturing at the chair. Which unfortunately, the guards will have Deirdre sit in whether she likes it or not.

 

Deirdre takes a seat in the chair, without recourse to force. She merely inclines her head and mumurs, "My Lady." and sits down.

 

Ulricke gestures to Fahahd to make sure Deirdre's 'comfortable'. "You know, Bean Counter - you've got your fingers in a lot of pies - isn't that the old saying? Fingers in a lot of pies?"

 

Deirdre says, "I do my job, My Lady."

 

Ulricke's eyes widen, a brilliant, sparkling blue. "Really? You're the Minister of Finance, is that not correct?"

 

Fahahd settles in, and delicately checks the chair to see that the Minister can be comfortably secured. No chafing.

 

Hektor takes another step into the chamber, leaning against the closest wall. Watching from the rear as he slips his arms across his chest. Being quiet, hardly taking breaths. It is not everyday that he gets to see some of the real politics in the house.

 

Deirdre doesn't look at Fahahd, doesn't even look at Ulricke. She gazes at some point in the distance and says, "That is my title, My Lady.

 

Fahahd returns to his former position at Ulricke's side.

 

Ulricke mms. "I see. And of course, the Minister of Finance's job is to involve themselves in the diplomatic relations of House Harkonnen, undermining what's already been worked at, attempt to subvert members of the House to the various and sundry sections available and oh! Apparently being the go-between for a potential marriage for me is also on your list of job requirements, it would seem?" She lifts a knife off the weapons rack. Wets her tongue, tests the edge. Nice and sharp, she's pleased.

 

Deirdre says, "My job is to advise the Baron and to carry out his orders, My Lady."

 

Fahahd asks, sharply, "And do those orders include making offers that you do not have the authority to make, both inside and outside the House?"

 

Hektor watches, not showing any reaction to the blade being taken out. This is a rough house after all.

 

Deirdre answers softly, "I do what is best for House Harkonnen, nothing else."

 

You say, "At no time did my father order you to undermine my work with the Houses for the benefit of ours. At no time did my father order you to intervene in Scaurus' courtship. Do you have any idea, Deirdre, how vastly insulted he was? What I had to do to calm him down?" she sighs. "No, Deirdre...I think the problem is that you've got your fingers in too many pies." She taps her cheek. "Well. Something we can do about that. Lieutenant Alaurans?" she gestures. "Break her fingers. Pick a hand at your leisure.""

 

Deirdre says, "You are wrong. I was ordered." She snaps her mouth shut, cutting off the words and finally glances at Fahahd, but for only a second, then returns her gaze to the distant point, "It would be more efficient to have Master Nestor question me if you believe I am a traitor."

 

Fahahd says, "And how do you know whatis best? Do you presume to supersede both the Mentat and the Baron, as well as those nobles who by far outrank you? Please. I warned you to be more subtle in your attempts. How was it good for the House to attempt have me switched to the Comissariat, without even bothering to check with Master Nestor or the Colonel? Do you think that we're such utter children that we can't see through such transparent falsehoods? Or to make an offer of marriage, when you had no idea if the lady Ulricke would agree?" He shakes his head in amazement. "If Master Nestor ordered you, which I am ill-prepared to believe, then he's selling you out, as well. Because he's not verifying those orders when his inferiors come asking."

 

Fahahd has drawn his kindjal, but it holding it pommel down, blade up, as if on display.

 

Deirdre says, "I submitted my proposals to both the Baron and Master Nestor, both of whom approved the plans."

 

Ulricke says in a singsong tone, "Spoke to my father, Deirdre...wasn't quite the case. But you really should be grateful. Andrei made me promise not to maim you or kill you. Else I would have had your fingers cut off instead."

 

Deirdre says, "The marriage of Her Ladyship was never to be carried out. This was known and accepted."

 

Hektor watches...knowing that sometimes these things are about showing alot of bark and little bite. Moving slightly to clearly see if the guard is really going to break bones or just going to scare the lady.

 

Fahahd notes, sweetly, "Then they withdrew their approval, afterwards. Or else you'd not be sitting here, now. And you neglected to inform both my Lord Treasurer and my lady Ulricke, who are the key players in that little drama." That said, he strikes quickly and efficiently with the blunt steel end of the sword, between the first an second joint of her first finger.

 

Deirdre cries out briefly, then clamps her lips tightly together, blinking away the tears.

 

Ulricke tilts her head. "You made quite a mess of things, Deirdre. And I had to go fix it all. Aside from the fact that you've been attempting to undermine all of my work, my good standing with my brother - you've come to think much of yourself, just because you fuck him."

 

Deirdre looks straight ahead, says nothing. Only the line of white around her lips betrays the pain.

 

Hektor pushes off the wall and moves deeper into the chamber of blades. Stopping behind Ulricke and slightly to the right as he watches the going ons.

 

Three more swift blows, leaving the thumb intact. Fahd is grimly efficient - hard to think that this is the same young man who's managed to charm his way into so many situations.

 

Deirdre winces and jerks with each blow. Her breath comes out in silent gasps of pain and tears run down her face. What little color she had in her face is gone.

 

Ulricke hrms. "Yes...you've become quite full of yourself, I'm afraid." she looks at Deirdre's hand. "This? This is just a little pain, Deirdre. It's nothing. Don't even think of it." she rises, pacing like a tiger. "I think perhaps, a more proper recourse would be to remind you of your place." she pauses. "Did you know on certain parts of Giedi Prime, the local custom states that the shorter your hair is, the lower your status is?" She seems utterly inspired. "Well... isn't that a quaint custom! And the perfect way to remind you of your own station, which you seem so fond of forgetting." And with a snap of her fingers, two servants come forward. One has scissors. The other, a small bowl, gel, and a razor on a platter.

 

It's almost as if Deirdre is past hearing because she doesn't respond to the taunts or the threats. She just sits there.

 

Hektor glances at the two servants as they appear carring the tray. Moving out of their way if he happens to have to move.

 

Fahahd steps back, and sheathes the kindjal with a swift, familiar motion.

 

It was once said by a wise man that threats are the recourse of incapable, and empty threats the recourse of the particularly inept. Ulricke it would seem, does not deliver threats, empty or otherwise, and is neither incapable or inept. The servants move forward, and with carefully neutral faces, proceed to first cut Dierdre's hair off...and then shave what remains on her scalp off, making her as bald as an ancient concentration camp victim.

 

Deirdre makes no move, does not plead or beg. If tears fall from her eyes, she isn't aware of it. She sits very still, taking slow shallow breaths and stares at the invisible point on the far wall.

 

Ulricke smiles. "She's willing herself away, isn't that cute? I suppose she thinks I won't get satisfaction from all of this if she's not sobbing and pleading. Oh, true it's not as melodramatic...but still." She walks closer. "You'd best pay attention to what I'm going to say next, Dierdre. If you don't, things could become very bad for you." And then quite casually, Ulricke backhands her.

 

Deirdre's head snaps back with Ulricke's strike, but that is all the reaction she gives.

 

Hektor speaks up, "I think she is going to passout...I am sure her quietness is not meant as any show of disrespect."

 

Fahahd asks, coolly, "And now what will you do in return, Minister?"

 

Ulricke tsks. "Well, alright. But it won't be my fault if you miss something important. Stay out of Harkonnen diplomatic involvements where I am concerned. If I find out you've been trying to sell me like a broodmare, my promise to Andrei will no longer be a consideration." She leans close to her ear. "And never, ever mistake, my dear. Whores like you come and go in Andrei's bed. But his sister, that's forever." She smiles sweetly and leans back, walking back to her seat. She waves a hand at Fahahd. "You can let her go now."

 

Fahahd quickly unfastens the bindings, in a few small motions.

 

Once the bindings are undone, Deirdre continues to sit there for a moment, as if gathering her strength before standing up. When she does get up, she wavers, and looks as if she might indeed pass out. She doesn't, however. Instead, she makes a somewhat awkward curtsey and says, "If My Lady is finished, I have some business to attend to. May I be excused?"

 

Ulricke says with tones that are the font of generosity, "Of course. So sorry for keeping you."

 

Deirdre inclines her head to Fahahd and Hektor and then turns for the exit, her steps careful and slow.

 

Fahahd's expression hasn't altered, throughout the entire affair.

 

Hektor watches Deirdre move her way towards the exits, taking several steps back to make sure she has all the room she needs.

 

Deirdre walks to the north and passes through the Archway.
Deirdre has left. 

 

Ulricke says idly as Deirdre retreats, "I do believe I'm hungry." she looks to Fahahd, her lips tightening. "I really should have had you cut off her fingers." she pouts.

 

Hektor nods towards Lady Ulricke now that the show is over. "Not ever slaves eat fingers my lady." Speaking even through isn't really addressing him.

 

Ulricke looks shocked. "I wouldn't eat them. I'd send them to Scaurus as a gift. I'll just have to send her hair instead."

 

Fahahd turns a cold gaze on the gladiator. "Nor does my lady," he notes. "Keep your place, boy,"

 

Fahahd adds, after a moment. "I'll wager she does something to go after me,"

 

Ulricke grins, watching Fahahd. He's so sexy when he's being steely. She muses. "If she does, she'll be hurt even worse. Andrei knows not to counter me on this."

 

Hektor looks at Fahahd for a few seconds and then away, not looking very threatened by his words. Nods to Ulricke to show respect and then turns heading out.

 

Ulricke grins. "I love it when you glower, Fahahd. Makes me want to do terrible things do you, right here on the floor." She rises, stretching and yawning. "Dinner?"

 

Fahahd's expression is instantly different. "How about terrible things, here on the floor, as an appetizer?" Crass? Why yes, he can be.