Mornië utúlië (1x1 w/ Jikkah)

Nana fell quiet, pursing her lips and clenching her fists. “You would force it, wouldn’t you.” She said lowly, hatred in her eyes.
 
“That’s why I will never love you.” She said lowly, turning her gaze away from him, sitting on the bed silently for another moment before speaking again. “Motochika would never force me to do something like this.”
 
She had never seen fury so raw before, not even when Motochika lost his mind so long ago. Lucifer was on her in an instant, hand wrapped around her throat tightly, "Never speak that name in my presence."
 
Nana was taken by surprise, laying stunned on the bed before she finally attempted to take a breath, but nothing came. His grip was so tight she saw spots, and her eyes were wide with shock and fear.
 
Fresh tears fell down her cheeks and she nodded the best she could with his hands around her throat, staring at him with fear and hatred. Nana hated him, he was little better than the awful man who had blinded and raped her, and now the physical abuse was back again.
 
Nana coughed and rubbed her throat rolling over on the bed and crying quietly.

Days would go on, Nana’s lessons continuing despite her being unable to preform any black magic, still she did what she could, studying old tomes, practicing incantations and even working with potions.
 
Nana put herself completely into her studies, as much as she had no interest in it. She still had yet to be able to cast any spells, but she was able to make decent potions. She was tired, either sleeping more than she planned to, or not being able to sleep at all. Now she was simply hanging herbs, prepping them for both potions and for cooking.
 
Nana tied another bundle of herbs, then hung them upside down over dimly lit fire so they could dry. “I’m fine.” She said quietly as she worked, not bothering to look at him when she spoke.
 
She frowned softly, only glancing at him. “Your demons bring me plenty, I don’t need any more supplies.” She muttered, carefully making another bundle to dry out.
 
Nana stopped, only briefly as the dream of her and Motochika entered her mind. “I’m fine.” She muttered firmly. Truth be told, some nights she ached for Motochika, but shed never tell Lucifer.
 
“Would it matter if I was?” She retorted, hanging up another bushel. “You never said I had to be an obedient wife.”
 
“None of this is ideal.” She said, hanging the last of the herbs before moving passed him to retrieve her store of already dried herbs.
 
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