Damon stood in front of the window for a long moment, contemplating what precisely he should do next. He wanted to get the word out to his people that something was coming their way, for sure. But he also wanted to get his letter to the king as quickly as he could. It wouldn't do if the subjects he ruled over were ready for the army of heroes that would be coming for them any minute now, but the king was not. In fact, it might get Damon in some deep waters that he would have to do a lot to get out of.
Damon nodded to himself, decided. It was settled, then. He would write his letter first, and have to wait for the response of his ruler before he did anything. Damon returned to his desk chair, picking up the fountain pen he had been playing with a few minutes before and retrieving a few sheets of his best stationary from the bottom drawer of his desk. He shuffled it absently, arranging it in a neat little pile on his blotting pad while he attempted to come up with a way to frase his letter that would suit the occasion and not come across as panicked. Of course, he would have to tell the king about Pandora. Even if Damon wasn't inclined to inform anyone else, he would have to let the king the king know. It was almost his responsibility, as someone that was ruled directly by him. The problem was, his ruler's reaction most likely wasn't going to be the best, no matter how Damon wrote the letter. After all, it had only been a handful of years since Pandora had killed the kings' father to send the message that no one, no matter what their status was, could avoid shivering every time they heard her name. Damon was sure that, when provided with a chance like this, the young king would give in to the hatred he surely still harbored towards Pandora.
Damon frowned, setting down his pen. This was going to take some time to think about. Obviously, he couldn't just write 'don't be mad, but I'm sheltering the hero who killed someone very close to you, and I'd like an army to help me defend her'. That was the last thing that was likely to get him what he needed, and it probably wouldn't help him win any favors in the eyes of his ruler. He would need to take some time to think of a way to write this without making it say what he was actually thinking. The king was not one to take people who messed with his family lightly, after all. He would stand by and willingly endure no end of jokes about other people, about his kingdom, his home, and anything else someone might want to poke at. But the second you touched someone close to him was the second you got yourself exiled and hated unanimously by all the cities and villages under the king's rule.
Damon stood, shaking his head a little. He was going to have to give himself an hour or two to think this out. It was almost lunch time, anyway. He'd take a break to eat and have a walk in the garden to clear his mind, and then come back to the letter. A glance at his watch told him that it was only a matter of ten or so minutes before Kirk came to inform him that lunch was ready, as he did every day. Damon had a bit of time to spare before his butler came and found him, but not enough to really get invested in a book or whatever was on the radio at this time of day. However, he could easily check in on Pandora and make sure that she was still both alive and in the same place he had left her. Damon nodded to himself, satisfied with this idea. He probably needed to be checking in on her every thirty minutes or so, since he had heard some sort of rumor that that was how much time it took for her to find a way out of even the most secure prisons. It was just a ridiculous and ungrounded whisper, but still. He didn't want to risk finding out that it was right.
He started back down the hallway towards the room Pandora was occupying, wondering aimlessly if he should invite her to eat lunch with him. After all, it wasn't like he was holding her here against her will. She was more of a slightly unwilling houseguest than anything else. And as such, she should be treated with the respect Damon would offer to any regular guest. He frowned, thinking of all the things that could go wrong if he had her join him at lunch. It wasn't like he'd ever let one of his captive heroes eat with him before, mainly since they were likely to either spit their self-righteous lies and hatred, or dull the mood by attempting to escape. But Pandora knew she had several ways out, even if she didn't want to take them. And that was something that set her apart from the rest of the heroes enough that Damon felt a little more comfortable asking her to join him. Besides, the thought that she might see him as her equal and willingly join him made some small part of his mind exceedingly happy for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. Damon stopped in front of the door to the young hero's room, taking a moment to run a hand through his hair and nod to his guards before he pushed it open and looked around. He was going to have her join him. It wasn't like she would have stayed if she didn't want to, anyway.
His blood ran cold for a moment as he let his eyes dart around the room in search of his captive, before he let out a little relieved sigh. She was laying in the bed, the covers pulled up so that her head and face was covered. It would have been a little suspicious, if she wasn't very clearly breathing beneath the covers. "Pandora?" Damon asked gently, shutting the door behind him. "Are you awake?" He added, a little concerned. People didn't usually sleep in the middle of the day, especially if they were in a strange place where they didn't trust anyone. The girl shifted beneath her blankets, pulling back covers enough that she could turn and see Damon standing a few feet away from her. "Oh, sorry." She said, pulling herself up into a seated position and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I didn't expect you to come back for a while." She added, a little sheepishly. Damon smiled. "Oh, it's fine. I was just coming to see if you wanted some lunch." He said, feeling a little stupid for not knocking first. He supposed he was just used to not particularly caring about his captives or their personal space. He was going to have to work on that now.
Pandora smiled, pushing herself out of bed and throwing the covers up over the pillows so that it looked almost tidy. "Depends." She said, sitting on the edge of her now mostly made bed. "Is it poinsed?" She asked, grinning a little. Damon chuckled. "Perhaps. Do you want to take a risk and see?" He asked, playfully. Pandora tilted her head to one side. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt." She said, pushing herself up off the bed and joining Damon. "Unless you're one of those people who chooses something like cyanide over the classics. Then I have no doubt it would hurt." She added. Damon grinned down at her, feeling the strange urge to put an arm around her shoulders. He furrowed his brow, confused at this sudden desire to get close to her. He didn't usually feel affectionate towards anyone, especially not a hero. The fact that he was even considering touching her was something he didn't quite understand, and certainly something he didn't like. "What's wrong?" Pandora asked, noticing that his grin had slipped a little. "Nothing." Damon said, shaking himself out of his strange thoughts and regaining his cheerful air. He could worry about his momentary desire to pull her close later. For now, he just had to have lunch with her and try not to let it slip that he intended to tell the king she was here.
Damon beckoned her towards the hall, completely ignoring the still extremely strong urge to pull her in close and rest his head on top of her jet black hair. "Come on. I bet you don't get many villains that let you eat with them." He grinned. Pandora laughed, following him out of the windowless room and smoothing back her sleep-rumpled locks. "You're right on that one." She smiled, looking up into his eyes. "In fact, I think you're probably the only one to treat me even halfway human." She added. Damon kept his smile, but beneath it was a puzzled and slightly scared frown. His mind raced at a million miles an hour, trying to determine what was causing these strange emotions. What the hell was this? Why did her cold, crystal blue eyes make his heart jump? What the hell was wrong with him? Was he sick, or something? Pandora laughed, either not seeing his perlexion or choosing to ignore it. "Alright, let's go get something to eat." She grinned, her perfect smile confusing Damon even more. "I have a few questions I want to ask you." She added.
YOU ARE READING
Morals of a Villain
General Fiction(Completed) Damon, a Duke by right, has never particularly liked the morally righteous narcissists he frequently has to deal with in everyday life. While others might see them as heroes courageously pitting themselves against the horrible and sadist...
