To all the COR and PB fans, I appreciate your reviews, no flames.
Four years after T2, Riddick fulfills his promise, almost too late.
Rated for language, sex and violence. All those who know Riddick, know that already.
To Silver eyes, bubbletoes and diesel babe. you guys are an imsipration.
evanessence owns their stuff so does every other song used. Thanks, don't own any of it, if I did Jack would have lived at the end of COR
Imam looked at Jack with the same fondness that he gave his boys before they died on the planet. Both he and Riddick had made a silent pact that she would be theirs to care for and that nothing would prevent her from growing into a woman who could be something.
"Jack?" he asked looking at his charge with a fatherly affection. He had watched her blossom into a ravishing beauty and when Riddick had contacted him, he was loathe to admit that his savior from T2 would find that so as well.
But Imam was worried that Riddick would be too late. He was alarmed that the day was coming when he could no longer keep her safe and wished for her protector's return.
Life on Hellion Prime was not what he had expected when he, Jack and Riddick arrived in New Mecca. Many things had changed and the amber sunshine that bathed the world in warmth hid many things within the shadows.
Jack, known as Jacqueline Richards, had grown from the bald, scared child that idolized Riddick, into a woman that had passion, a mind of her own, and a temper to rival the man with the silvery eyes.
"Jack," Imam told her as she accompanied him from services, "you must be careful, and think about your future." She stood next to him completely veiled, tall and proud, her eyes holding a deep seated irritation at the pretense of her acting as a pilgrim.
Not only did she feel stupid, look stupid was told by the women of Imam's parish that she was stupid, but she couldn't leave no matter what the pretense. She was a prisoner on a world of amber light.
"I have Imam. Trust me. I have. I have studied hard, I have kept my mouth shut and tried not to offend you or your friends. But I'm not even going to consider it. You've got to be joking." She told him her hazel eyes on fire.
But Imam's face showed nothing remotely resembling levity.
"Jack. You will be a 'legal' adult within the week and I cannot protect you then. You will be subject to the laws of this land and that is something I would not wish for you."
She shifted in her pilgrim's uniform. It was a long black skirt, deep blue shirt covering every inch of her skin and flowed down to hide the body she had developed since her rescue, and a deep black head scarf covering everything but her eyes.
"No. I will not submit. I won't let them sell me into marriage. I'll run first." She demanded raising her voice enough to cause some of the women who had begun to walk near them to whisper.
She cringed and lowered her voice, sighing. The law in place was only to keep the men in positions of power. She was disgusted enough by the slavery they represented. But she was more disgusted by their abject lust after young girls.
"Jack, you must consider that Mr. Riddick may not be able to return." He told her looking at her.
She was livid that he even could suggest it, out loud to her. She wanted to rip the head scarf from her face and tell them all where to go. But she wore it to respect him and only when she was out in public or when she could possibly be seen. New and even more restrictive laws had begun to take effect and she had to be careful, very careful. She had learned much of the ways of Allah and knew that she was observed whenever she was with him. She was calm, quiet and reserved in public, an elaborate façade whereas underneath she was all Jack, rage, willfulness and passion all locked up.
"I have and I still will not bow." She told him standing firm. He put his hand out and sighed. She took after the man who had saved them more than he wanted to admit. In the three and a half years since their arrival, she had been taught the ways of the pilgrims, forced to submit as a means of survival. She was itching to be sarcastic, like she used to be when she was younger. But she tempered herself out of necessity and respect. She bit her tongue, dying to give him what for. He needed her to understand what she was going to be forced to do, even though it killed him to say it. It was wrong, so very, very wrong.
"You and Riddick should have thought of this when we got to this place Imam, and now that I am registered here I'll have no choice. I can't even leave the planet without a male escort, a spouse or brother. Couldn't we have gone somewhere else?" she asked walking passed the market where some of the men who had come to socialize after the services openly stared…at her.
"How can you be so sure he will come for you?" He promised me.
"Faith and the fact that he said he would. I believe him, I trust him. I…" love him… she almost said ripping the head scarf off and storming up the stairs to the women's quarters. She looked back down the steps of their villa and glared at him, "He's never lied to me and you know it." He'd better come back.
He did know it. In the times he had contact with him, which over the last three and half years had been sporadic, he told the truth. He had a feeling about Richard B. Riddick, that his word was something not to be questioned.
When he had arrived from T2 with the two of them, Riddick stood at the helipad and spoke low and purposefully.
"Gotta go kid, look I got mercs on my neck. Until I get this payday off my head, I've got to be scarce. Listen to the holy man and wait, I will come for you."
Imam remembered his face, how he removed his goggles and looked directly into her eyes, so wide with fear.
"Stay please." She pleaded with him, hugging his waist as if the reason for living was being ripped from her.
He knelt down, and looked at her, then at Imam who stood stoic a few feet away. "Remember one thing Jack. I will come for you. I'm not going to leave you. I know that this is a pretty shitty deal but be tough kid. Running is no place for you, not now." He growled into her ear.
The tears were streaming down her face even though she tried to be brave.
Imam's heart began to ache at the memory and unconsciously fisted his hands at his side.
"But you can't leave me here." She cried, trying to shake off his strong hands.
From his vantage point, Imam watched the large man sigh. It was a heartbreaking one, and he tried to hide it but he could not. "Listen," he said looking at her and taking something out of his pocket. "I need you to do something for me."
She sniffed and stood straighter, and Imam felt his heart feel incredibly full. Many had seen the murderous side of this man, but in the loudness and starkness of the spaceport, he saw a tender, human side of him that would always shape his regard for Riddick.
"Hang on to this." He told her putting a small disc into her palm and closing his large rough hand around it.
It had a strange design on it and was light to the touch and warm, as if he kept it close to him at all times. It was a medallion on a strong titanium chain and felt light but strong in her hand. "It was the only thing I have of my mother, whoever the fuck she was. I'll be wanting that back. It was the only thing that they never got around to taking away from me."
For a convicted killer, Riddick displayed a fiercely protective side when it came to Jack. Maybe it was the fact that he had saved her on T2, or maybe he found something within her that, unknown to either, would satisfy the loneliness in his soul.
Imam remembered his icy stare, penetrating him. "Protect her while I'm gone holy man." He told him. It was not a request. "I will come back. Remind her, often."
And then he was gone without a backwards glance.
At first, Jack was quiet and withdrawn. Her shock, her timidity he attributed to the alien surroundings, the culture shock of his people and their reticence to accept strangers into their midst.
As a man of faith, Imam was immediately accepted and revered as their new religious leader. Imam had begun to worry that she could never accept the fact that she was becoming a woman, but slowly she acclimated herself to the idea. He watched her study hard, fight vigorously against his wishes defying him at every turn, and blossom into a very beautiful, headstrong, free thinking woman.
Coming into her own seemed to ease her worries. Once her hair had grown out, she felt less awkward, and in the first year, she had grown another three inches and begun to fill out, becoming more womanly, rather than tom-boyish. This development, although expected, did not give him comfort knowing the way that she would be received, both in New Mecca, and once someone in their past returned to claim her.
A smile curved on his lips as he remember the day she came back from school and ran to her rooms. She stood in front of her mirror, deep brown skirt flowing to her calves, a deep white shirt covering her arms and torso, and brown head scarf covering her hair. "What is it my child?"
"They keep staring at me." She said afraid.
"I suspect they do." He told her looking at her with an encouraging smile, "you have becoming a beautiful woman."
"No. I'm not." She affirmed removing the head scarf to show a brilliant mass of burnished waves.
"As much as you may deny it Jack, you are." He told her always having been as honest as Riddick had been. It was the least he could do for her.
"I don't want to be beautiful." She said in a small voice. "It'll get me hurt."
He had to admit to himself that this revelation was true enough. Beauty in the hard cold universe had no place. It served only as a distraction that could be deadly.
In the weeks that followed, he noticed that some of the men in his acquaintance were paying more attention to the thin girl in the dark veil, the one who rarely spoke in public, the one that never seemed to attract attention to herself but sat politely, demurely at the Imam's side.
Her behavior, pleasing to Imam because he realized how much she wanted to please him had gained the notice of prominent people in his parish. Many had noticed qualities in her that were desirable, and with her coming of age in the coming months, they knew of her fate. Some of those men, who were powerful and sometimes dangerous men of Imam's sect had sought to speak with her, and approached him with a desire to come to know her. She refused, and Imam respected her wishes.
Soon, Imam would have no choice but to relinquish what tenuous control he had over her. Since he was not legally her guardian, the moment she became of age, the council of elders would take whatever freedom she had.
In his heart, he knew she'd die before she would allow that.
His followers, many not sympathetic to the new ways, helped him train her in ways that normal female pilgrims would never undergo. They instructed her on advanced computers, languages, defense and combat, all the things she would need in order to escape, if she was given no choice.
The sun had set, and he noticed that he had been standing in the darkness for some time. He realized with a chuckle, that Jack was much like Riddick. She would not submit no matter what the cost. Inwardly, with a wry smile, he couldn't have been more proud.
He sighed as he looked at the night sky. He remember a conversation they had earlier that week, "He won't allow them to take me and use me to breed other slaves for your god. I will not bow." She said through her teeth. "I won't submit. I'll kill them first, before I let them put their hands on me."
Defiant, she stormed out to the darkness avoiding him for almost two days. He could not look at her because his response told her that he did not share the same faith in Riddick's return as she did, and it tore her to pieces.
In his private courtyard, Salim was putting her through the physical training she had started just after arriving in New Mecca. Three hours each day, he showed her ways to kill, ways to avoid, ways to escape so she could live. Contrary to beliefs, Imam knew that this part of her education was just as important as what they taught in the girls school he made her attend.
"Jack." Imam said to her as she walked passed and bowed. Since she arrived with him, her respect for him was unquestioned. He was everything that was stable and calm, but not what she needed and he knew it.
He never asked her to do something that she would consider an insult, even when she was subjected to the instruction given by his sect's women elders. Soon, he would have no choice but to force her to bend, unless she could escape.
In the last few months, she had internalized things. She was changing and he saw it, subtle but there right underneath the surface. She was a good child, one he could not have been more proud of. He knew her to be a passionate woman, one to see the necessity of temperance, but understanding how she hated it.
He appreciated her when she would smile, and remain calm, even sometimes it made his nerves fray. She could appear so passive and docile, when truth he knew she was a raging torrent ready to erupt. She was so good at this façade that even he forgot on occasion it was all an act.
She finished her kata with Salim, respectfully bowed and grabbed a towel. "Yes Baba?" (father) she said wiping her face and running her fingers through her hair. It flowed to her shoulder blades in a braid of fiery silk.
He paused. She had called him that very seldom. His heart was so full of love for her. To him she was so beautiful, more beautiful than he thought he should be permitted to see. "Baba. Forgive me. I was harsh before and you're only looking out for me. I'm sorry."
"You only say that my child because you feel guilty for hurting my feelings. I know that you are not sorry for what you said. You still believe it."
"Yes. Busted again." She smirked. You can see through my bullshit in two seconds, who was I fooling?
"Soon you must flee this place." He told her. "I will not allow them to take you and break your spirit, even though you have been so kind as to keep it restrained for so long. This I appreciate."
"No problem. I owe you." She said matter of factly.
"Many would have me punish you for some of the things you do that I choose to ignore. Your discretion has been a blessing."
"I know. Sorry to be such a pain in the ass. Sorry, I mean butt. You're the closest thing I've had to a father and I hope I wasn't too difficult. I know how hard it is for you with the magnificent seven…"
The magnificent seven were the seven families that seemed to control New Mecca. The men of these families were harsh, manipulative men that were instrumental in changing the laws regarding their women and females in general. They were hateful extremists that wanted nothing more than control and more power. She hated the fact that they tied Imam's hands. That he had no control whatsoever over his flock and watched him try to be diplomatic when who he dealt with were corrupt to the core.
"You need not worry. I will handle them when the time comes. But prepare child. It could be any time."
"I know. I will go when you tell me." Then I'll find Riddick myself and kick his god damn ass.
She walked to the top of the villa, to the one place she knew Imam would never follow. Jack's rooms were spacious and well kept. She had taken pride in her surroundings, burning incense and keeping the lights low because it reminded her of Riddick. She sighed. "Lights, ten percent." She growled putting on her mini-disc. Loud rock music she down-loaded blared in her ears,
The large bedroom had a settee adjacent to the immense bed and was uniquely feminine. The terra-cotta tile floor and the ornate rugs were rich and she welcomed the scents of her sanctum more than the thoughts that plagued her mind. Her window, on the top floor overlooking the courtyard, was open letting the night air cool off her sweaty skin. She swayed her hips disappearing into the music trying to stave off the need to scream.
"Where am I gonna go?" she said to herself. "Damn it. Damn it…"
She stretched to her toes, cracked her back and neck and sat on the settee and removed her boots. She laid down the bone shiv that he had given her when she escaped the planet with him on the table. She stretched her arms above her head and sang along with the music.
She wanted the freedom sleep, and to dream, and the freedom to be her unrestrained self.
The night's workout was good, she felt nice and limber. Her body had become a hard working machine of agility and grace. Her limbs were smooth and tone, her stomach was flat and her legs strong.
He watched her strip from her black jeans, then her black shirt to reveal a voluptuous athletic body. He saw long legs, a slim waist he could put his hands around and an elegant neck. She smelled of exertion, and of need, both scents intoxicating to his heightened senses.
Well, well, well Jack. You keep surprising me…
The shower was hot and she looked forward to feeling her muscles tingle as the water hit them. She worked harder today because she was pissed and Salim told her so.
It is not the fault of the Imam that you are in the situation you are. The families on the council make it so and they are to blame.
Like hell Salim, I'm not a piece of meat. I'm not and I won't let them treat me that way.
She entered the bathroom and said, "Lights, forty percent." Riddick could see clearly the black tattoo she sported on her low back, starting dangerously close to the cleft of her backside and running its way up her back and over her hip. It was a stark contrast to her pale skin. The dragon she wore was a final defiant insult to the law against women mutilating their bodies by piercings and body art.
She wore it as a symbol, that she would not bend to their will. And every time she saw it, she smiled. Take that you mother fuckers.
So beautiful… he thought as he watched her remove her panties and bra. His stare continued as she unwound her braid and shook out her long deep red tresses and continued to hum along to the music.
Stepping into the shower, she replayed the conversation she had earlier with Imam about Riddick. "Imam, I won't do it. He's coming for me. He promised damn it. He's never lied to me. You don't know that, he might be unable to return." She reiterated out loud as she turned towards the spray. The clear shower curtain gave him quite a view, and his inner beast growled in response to his eyes seeing her absolutely naked.
He heard her moan as the hot stream of water hit her. "Ah, that's definitely more like it." Her hands ran through her hair, and she put her hands on the wall and let the jets slam into her back muscles. "Music, Evanescence. Sound, level 5."
Hold onto me my love, You know I can't stay long.
All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid. Ohhhh
Can you hear me? Can you feel me in your arms?
Holding my last breath safe inside myself…
Are all my thoughts of you sweet raptured light it ends here tonight.
She began to hum the chorus… then she continued dancing in the shower and feeling very good as she crooned over and over. He watched as she washed the sweat and grime away struck by her, stock still and breathing hard. Her voice was so beautiful as she sang and the way her body moved made him want her so very much.
That was not supposed to happen. She was not supposed to look so incredible. He expected a tall lanky kid with her hair in a pony tail and machine boots pissing off everyone in sight. He did not expect what he stared at washing her body with a soap that made his innards twitch.
Closing you eyes to disappear. You pray your dreams will lead you here.
Still you wait and know the truth--no one's there. Safe don't be afraid.
Only because as you fade to black. Safe, holding my last breath.
Safe inside myself.
Are all my thoughts of you sweet raptured light it ends here tonight."
Suddenly the smell of sandalwood and something else drifted from her apartments towards the shower. "Music off." She said quickly. Her head, slick from the water shot up with recognition. Him. She growled in frustration which made him smile. That's right kid, I'm here and you know it…
She shook her head and washed the soap out of her hair. He liked when he could watch it slide down her smooth back between the cheeks of that perfect ass. That's a damn fine ass Jack. His inner beast growled.
But his rational mind was suddenly guilty for having spied on her while she was so very naked. As erotic as the show was, he still tried to think of her as a kid. But his body reacted differently. Hard and uncomfortable, he was compelled to stare at her. He was having to admit, if only to himself, that she'd grown into one hot piece of ass.
Damn…
Then he was snapped back into conscious thought by the sound of her voice again. This time it was agitated and insistent.
"How much longer Riddick? I need you and I'm tired of waiting. I ache and it's all your fault you bastard." She cried as her nipples erect from the water and her workout bothered her all the way down to her knees.
He watched as she leaned towards him, and smiled. "Imam, you have no idea what's really going on… I won't let those bastards take me. I'm so outa here. I'll do as I please sooner rather than later." She laughed and his breath caught in his throat.
What the fuck?
Then she stuck her tongue out and he stopped breathing altogether. Once she retracted the piece of her face he'd most like to see again, his eyes went to the chain around her neck. It was his medallion. He watched her play with it, sighing as the water cascaded down the valley between those beautiful, taut breasts.
He licked his lips and groaned watching her enjoy the hot steamy water. A moan of satisfaction escaped her.
This is so wrong, his rational mind thought. But the beast just applauded enjoying the view.
He could smell the frustration within her and cocked an eyebrow. "Riddick." She moaned as her fingers dropped to the most intimate part of her in an attempt to alleviate the ache that had become a constant reminder of her loneliness. She sighed his name again and he stared in complete disbelief.
Well fuck me sideways.
The hot water helped as she played and teased. Already extremely aroused by her, he wanted to give in to his desire and touch her, consume her, and feel her completely surrounding him and the sounds she made gave him a guilty thrill that normally would have not phased him. But this was Jack.
Jack, he reminded himself. You sick fuck.
Her voice was the same, except when in the end, she shouted his name. That surprised him.
Poor kid, gonna have to help her with that.
What are you saying? That's Jack!
Yeah, that's Jack.
That was not the kid he left nearly four years ago. It sounded like her, it smelled like her, but she was all grown up. He couldn't dispute that fact, and felt conflicted as his cock twitched in response to her naked walking towards him.
Down boy.
"Well, that was disappointing." She said to herself as she whipped her hair back and forth shaking the excess water all over the room as she exited the shower. Droplets hit him and her scent was all over him.
That didn't help matters.
Stepping into the darkness, she dried off still frustrated despite her orgasm. A nightgown of indigo silk lay on her bed and she pulled on a pair of high cut panties and slipped the gown over her head.
Silk was another rebellion against the pilgrims she indulged. It screamed FREEDOM. He smiled as she moaned when it touched her skin and he thought to himself how incredible she had become. He hadn't thought of her like that in all the time he was away. How come it never occurred to him until that moment that she would emerge a ravishing beauty?
The small straps glided over her head and down her shoulders, and she sighed as it began its descent.
Riddick's inner beast was howling. Damn, little Jack is all grown up and filled out in all the right places.
He tried to argue with himself. She's like your little sister…but the beast bore his teeth and growled back. She's not like any sister you had you fucker.
It was right. She had changed and he wasn't sure he could be a gentleman like he promised himself he would. She was too tempting and he had an itch she definitely could scratch.
He shifted uncomfortably as her breasts responded to the torment of the silk. She sighed again as it descended to her waist and down her legs, like a caress.
Man, like I said beautiful… Pounce her, she's hot for you… Do it… Do it… Make her scream your name dickey boy.
He closed his eyes and smelled vanilla. It assailed his senses like a drug and his body reacted like he was drunk. He opened them slowly just in time to see the criss cross design hit her waist holding in the beast on her lower back and growled in anticipation of tasting her tender flesh. She leaned down towards the bed and smoothed the pillows.
"Feel better Jack?"
She spun around a shiv in her hands and surprised him. "I'm not gonna hurt you Jack." He said in low soft purr.
At the sound of his voice he saw her eyes close and she groaned out loud. "I'm losing my mind."
His eyebrow raised at its sound. Over the years, her mind had played many cruel tricks on her and she cursed herself for allowing it.
"I'm not gonna think about you again Riddick. I have to be stronger than that. You might torment my mind and body when I'm tired but I won't allow you from keeping me strong, damn it. You left me here, and didn't come back and now I have a payday of my own on my head to deal with. No matter how much I miss you, you can't matter. Leave me alone." She said to the darkness as she put the knife back underneath her pillow.
It was the shiv he gave her from T2, sharp and deadly.
He felt how angry she still was. And he couldn't blame her and that amused him, he was expecting something else. What? He didn't know, but it definitely wasn't that. She thinks I'm a ghost. How interesting. "How much of a payday Jack?" he crooned in his raspy growl.
She moaned against the sound of his voice and his muscles twitched in anticipation. Nice, he thought, I like that.
"Virgins go for 25000 credits but the rumor is I'm a bigger payday." She scoffed. "My birthday is in a week and after that I'm no longer jail bait, you jerk."
"Why is that Jack, what makes you so special?" he wondered as she slipped into bed.
"I was a bad girl Riddick, a very bad girl." She answered closing her eyes and smiling. The knife was in her hands again and she twirled it deftly surprising him again. "They want breeders Riddick, for the faithful. They will try to make me submit. I will not. I'll slice them all first."
Aw, she sounds like me. Ain't that cute. "Jack, I didn't abandon you."
"Yes you did. I believed you'd come back for me. I dreamed of you every night, that you would rescue me from this hell, but you didn't. And now I'm alone talking to myself. I hate you."
She sighed against the sheets as she felt the silk against her skin. "You don't really hate me do you Jack?" he purred coming closer.
"No, not really. It just hurts. You know what they'll do." She sighed as his voice became a caress against her skin. She arched her back and sighed again in the darkness.
Damn Jack, you're making it hard to concentrate. "What are they gonna do Jack?"
She rolled onto her stomach and put her tear stained face on the pillow. "Three days from now, I'll be forced to be presented to the council, then unveiled so they can start the bidding. It's a cattle auction. Not that I haven't been through worse. " she slipped her leg up baring the thigh he'd glimpsed in the bathroom.
His hand itched to touch her but inside he was conflicted. She was arousing him and he couldn't stop it. "I will come for you." he said in an almost whisper.
She smiled wickedly. That got him to cock his head in surprise, again.
"Sure, promises, promises. At least I can dream you'll come for me. Mmm." Then she laughed and turned her face away from him.
"I said I'd come back Jack, why don't you believe me?" he asked sitting on the balls of his feet, just a bare three feet from her.
"It's hard to believe a ghost Riddick. Save me from them, I can't do it alone." She sighed sleep pulling at her.