7 Ways Sonia Knows she’s Not a Morph (#025 - the seven deadly sins)

[rosage]

Title: 7 Ways Sonia Knows she’s Not a Morph
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Pairing: Sonia/Ursula
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #25 - the seven deadly sins
Word Count: 514
Note: Warnings for an unhealthy relationship, references to violence, and generally what the ship and prompt imply.

Those who defy Lord Nergal soon learn the error of their ways.  Sonia has roasted many herself, deigning to let their screams mingle with her laughter.  Those who spit upon Sonia, and Sonia alone, earn a special brand of hellfire; tongues of flame that do their job as she looks on in silence, using only a tilt of her head to bade Ursula dispose of the ash.

xxxxxxx

Stragglers remain from the original Black Fang, grunts too weak to harm Lord Nergal’s plan.  Sonia sees the doubt in their sidelong glances while they address Brendan, and her nails tap against her tome.  She is the puppeteer; she wields the power among the Fangs, and no else.  Such incompetent goons are unworthy of Ursula’s magic, yet Sonia trusts nobody else to claim the group in her name.  Within a fortnight the stragglers are gone. 

xxxxxxx

Limstella never ceases in fulfilling their duties, not even to rest.  Why should they?  A puppet’s body does not need maintenance.  Once it’s reached its limit, it’s tossed aside in a tangle of strings and broken wood. 

Sonia lounges on a table in the study, her elbow cushioned by a makeshift pillow made of Ursula’s cape, and watches Ursula search painstakingly through a tome for a spell.  She turns the pages carefully with gloved hands, not licking her fingers as many crass mages do, stopping only to feed Sonia dried fruit soaked in wine.  She doesn’t ask why Sonia wants to learn body alteration.

xxxxxxx

“Tell me I’m perfect,” Sonia says, “more perfect than even Lord Nergal himself.”

Ursula adjusts the bodice of Sonia’s dress while Sonia twists in the mirror, breaking contact with the reflection of her golden eyes to study Ursula’s bowed head.  “Of course, Lady Sonia.  No master could be more perfect.” 

xxxxxxx

With a flawless appearance, Sonia naturally doesn’t need jewelry or special clothes; still she switches her earrings for Ursula’s and covers her arms in bangles, shaking her wrists to make them clink and glimmer.  Ursula presses her lips to them so as not to smudge paint onto Sonia’s skin; then, at Sonia’s command, she leaves to find more, as alabaster still shows in the gaps between gold.

xxxxxxx

Under Sonia’s watch Ursula slides out of her boots to avoid tracking dirt into Sonia’s domain.  Sonia orders the gloves off, too, in case any of the blood staining them is fresh, and curls her lip at the sight of the marks on Ursula’s skin.  Would it not have required Sonia to join her on the ground, Sonia could have tangled herself within those limbs until they turned red.  Sonia crosses her legs and speaks only of the business at hand.

xxxxxxx

There is no glint in Limstella’s eyes when Nergal tells them they are his most perfect creation.  The yellow might as well be an ugly copper for how dull it is, Sonia thinks as she slips away, her hands clenching and twisting in the crook of her arms.

No matter.  Sonia is not a creation.  In all her flaws, Sonia is still above them.