The Black King, chapter 4
Mar. 12th, 2021 01:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: The Black King
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Mature
Chapters: 4/4
Word Count: 1780
Characters: Beth Harmon, Vasily Borgov
Pairings Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov
Warnings: None so far. As this is a work in progress it may change.
Summary: In November 1989 the Berlin Wall fell. In December 1991 the Soviet Union was dissolved. And in March 1992 Beth Harmon went to Russia to look for her past.
This fic can be read as a standalone, but it is written as a sequel to Taking the White Queen.
The fic on AO3
Beth nodded, took Borgov’s hand, and stood up. Yes, of course, they were going to play chess. How could they meet again and not play? She had been so focused on finally getting her explanation to think about it, but now she knew she couldn’t leave before a game.
Her hands were cold, she hadn’t realized that until Borgov’s warm hand closed over her’s. The heat seemed to travel through her entire body, and she wanted to step into his arms and pull his arms around her, pressing her body against his and letting his warmth engulf her. But she only let him lead her to the table with the chess game and allowed him to seat her at the white side.
But to her surprise, he didn’t sit down himself. Instead, he regarded the chess pieces solemnly. Then he gave her a quick glance and put them away in their box. He put the box on a shelf and selected another one, and when he unpacked it, Beth’s heart started to beat harder. She knew those chess pieces, though she had never seen the complete set before. The style and execution were still unmistakable, and yes, the white pieces were carved in ivory. And when they were all set up, there was still one piece missing, the black king. Beth smiled and reached into her pocket, slowly putting the ebony king in its rightful place. When she looked up, Borgov’s eyes were smiling at her, and she could feel her face heat up.
Playing calmed her. She could focus on the chessboard where everything had its place, every chess piece its preordained moves, but the choreography was always new; an infinite number of combinations and possibilities. It made every game a surprise, but it was also familiar; a safe harbor for her emotions. After everything she had learned today, it was a relief to let them rest a little, turning all her attention to the game. And playing against Borgov again after all these years was also familiar, but also thrilling.
Time passed. There was no reason to rush, and they both took their time considering their movies. None of them spoke; there was no need for it. At one point Borgov turned on a few lamps; Beth had noticed the room was darkening until he did. A little later he went into the kitchen and returned with a plate of pierogi they silently ate while they played. It was a peaceful game, domestic. The kind of game Beth once had envisioned playing with Borgov in her garden in Kentucky. Then it had been an impossible daydream, but now she thought of her terrace in Paris, where large pots of roses soon would start flowering. Something inside her stirred like a bauble filled with golden promises. It suddenly didn’t seem impossible any longer the two of them could sit there one day.
Eventually, she realized the game didn’t go anywhere. They both moved the same piece back and forth, no one being able to find an opening. She looked up and met Borgov’s gaze, and he gave her his little half-smile, and she knew he had noticed the same.
“Draw?”
“Yes, Miss Harmon, a draw.”
Beth leaned on her elbows and contemplated the remaining chess pieces, thinking of what to say next.
“Do you regret giving up your career for me?”
“No. It would have been worse to see you stunted. And what is the point of being on top if you know you only stay there because your competition was unfairly eliminated?”
Beth nodded, she understood that. “None, of course.”
“I still love you, you know.”
Her heart seemed to expand in her chest at his words, but she didn’t dare to look at him. Beth was afraid it would render her speechless if she did, and she was afraid she would say the wrong words. It seemed so fragile, what she wanted him to know, so easy to not get it right. Instead, she reached out her hand towards him, and he took it. It felt easier when she could look at their fingers entwined, laying on the chessboard between them.
“I never stopped loving you. I thought I had- I wanted to, anyway. But those people we still love have been gone for twenty years. I’m not that Beth anymore, for good and for bad. I’ve changed, and so have you. How can we know we even like each other now?”
“I don’t think we need to doubt that,” Borgov said mildly. “But you are right, our lives haven’t stood still just because we haven’t been together.”
“I’ve been married.”
“I know.”
“And had lovers.”
“I haven’t been without company either.”
“But not now?”
“No, not for some time.” He gripped her hand a little tighter. “What do you want, Beth?”
“I want a beginning. A real beginning. The world is changing and there’s no need to hide anymore; we can keep in contact. Write letters; visit each other. I can stay in St. Petersburg for a while. I have never been here before, and perhaps you could show me your city? I would like that a lot. And I want to do all the other things we never could do before. But I don’t want to be in any hurry to get somewhere. I don’t need promises or plans set in stone. I just want a beginning and see what happens next.”
She dared to look at him then, and she could see his answer in his eyes before he spoke.
“Yes, I want that too.”
He stood up, pulling her up with him and into his arms. Beth nestled close, put her cheek against his chest, inhaled his scent, and relished in the feeling of his powerful arms around her. She felt warm and safe, and giddily happy. If she only could stay, but she had already said she didn’t want things to happen too fast.
“It’s late. I should go.”
She tried to take a step back, but Vasily kept his hand around her waist and instead pulled her closer, burrowing his face in her hair.
“Do you have to? Would it be too much of a rush to ask you to stay the night?”
Beth tilted her head back and smiled at him. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“If you can persuade me.”
“Is that so?”
Vasily vowed his hand in her hair and tilted her chin so he could kiss her. Beth wound her arms around his neck and stood on her toes, kissing him back as eagerly as he kissed her. They were both breathless when they pulled apart.
“Enough persuasion?”
“Not quite. A kiss is just a kiss, after all.”
The hand in her hair tightened, and he shook her head slightly.”
“You are still a minx, my love.”
Suddenly Vasily swung her around, so her back was against his chest, and his hand, broad and warm, pressed against Beth’s throat. Not choking, but with enough force to keep her immobilized against his body. His other hand started a slow dance over her collarbones, stroking the delicate skin there, and then dipping a little lower, unbuttoning the first button of her dress. Then another one, and another.
Beth could barely breathe when his fingertips brushed the top of her breasts, but it was only for a second, then he continued with the buttons. She fumbled over her belt buckle, unfastened it, and let the belt fall to the floor, so he could continue with her dress. He caressed her stomach, dragging his fingers up between her breasts, but not touching them. Then another button, and finally, the last one, and the dress fell apart down the middle. Vasily unhurriedly ran his fingers along the edge of her black lace bra, but he didn’t go further. Beth who had decided to not urge him on couldn’t resist a small frustrated whimper when he once again bypassed breasts to skim over her waist and hips instead.
He murmured in her ear. ” I thought you said you weren’t impatient anymore.”
“I’m not- it’s you who is infuriatingly slow.”
“He chuckled. “Just the way you like it.”
In answer, Beth pressed herself harder against him, feeling to her satisfaction that he was as aroused as she was.
“So, have I persuaded you yet?”
“Will you touch me properly if I say yes?”
“Maybe.”
Vasily released her, easing her dress down her arms so she could slip out of it. Beth quickly removed her panties and pantyhose and turned around only clad in her bra. The naked hunger in his eyes felt like it scorched her.
“You look very indecent like that.”
“Just the way you like it then.”
He reached for her, but she danced away and poked out the tip of her tongue at him. Vasily Borgov grinned, yes grinned, and in two quick steps caught her again. Beth squirmed a little, so she could start unfastening his shirt, while he opened her bra clasp.
“All right, I stay. But only because it’s too cold to go outside now that you have stolen my clothes.”
She kissed his chest, letting her hands roam his body. His body had softened a little with age, but it was still muscular. Vasily took her arm and steered her to the bedroom. It was not large, the bed occupied most of the floor-space, but it was a neat aunty rest of his home, the bed made up with clean white sheets that smelled faintly of lavender when Beth sat down on it. Vasily divested himself of the last of his clothes, and she pulled him down to her.
It seemed her body remembered his perfectly, molding itself to fit against him. His hands touched her in all the right places, in exactly the right way; he remembered too. Vasily had always excited her, coaxing her arousal to heights no one else could ever do. That hadn’t changed, and Beth came laughing and crying at the same time. When he entered her, she wrapped both her arms and legs around him, wanting him as close as possible.
Afterward, Beth lay in his arms, lazily moving her fingers in circles over his chest. “I used to hate falling asleep with you because I knew you would always be gone when I woke up the next day.”
“But not tomorrow.”
“Never again when we are together. And tomorrow will be the first time we wake up together.”
Vasily kissed her lightly on her forehead. “The first of many firsts.”
Beth smiled at him, snuggled closer, and closed her eyes. Sleep couldn’t come fast enough, and tomorrow was full of promises.
END
Notes: The quote in the beginning from this fic is from a song called La chanson des vieux amants. Sometimes I get a song stuck in my head when I write, and this song got really stuck, especially the second verse and the refrain. For those who don’t speak French, The title translates to The Old Lovers Song
I, I know all your spells/You know all my charms/You kept me from trap to trap/I lost you from time to time/Of course, you took a few lovers/Time had to be spent/The body just has to exult/In the end, in the end/It took us much talent/To be old without being adults
But my love/My sweet, my tender, my wonderful love/From the clear dawn until the end of the day/I love you still, you know, I love you
The melody is heartbreakingly beautiful, and you can find the song here.. Jaques Brel was at his height of popularity in 1967, so Beth could very well have heard his music when she was in Paris.
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Mature
Chapters: 4/4
Word Count: 1780
Characters: Beth Harmon, Vasily Borgov
Pairings Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov
Warnings: None so far. As this is a work in progress it may change.
Summary: In November 1989 the Berlin Wall fell. In December 1991 the Soviet Union was dissolved. And in March 1992 Beth Harmon went to Russia to look for her past.
This fic can be read as a standalone, but it is written as a sequel to Taking the White Queen.
The fic on AO3
Beth nodded, took Borgov’s hand, and stood up. Yes, of course, they were going to play chess. How could they meet again and not play? She had been so focused on finally getting her explanation to think about it, but now she knew she couldn’t leave before a game.
Her hands were cold, she hadn’t realized that until Borgov’s warm hand closed over her’s. The heat seemed to travel through her entire body, and she wanted to step into his arms and pull his arms around her, pressing her body against his and letting his warmth engulf her. But she only let him lead her to the table with the chess game and allowed him to seat her at the white side.
But to her surprise, he didn’t sit down himself. Instead, he regarded the chess pieces solemnly. Then he gave her a quick glance and put them away in their box. He put the box on a shelf and selected another one, and when he unpacked it, Beth’s heart started to beat harder. She knew those chess pieces, though she had never seen the complete set before. The style and execution were still unmistakable, and yes, the white pieces were carved in ivory. And when they were all set up, there was still one piece missing, the black king. Beth smiled and reached into her pocket, slowly putting the ebony king in its rightful place. When she looked up, Borgov’s eyes were smiling at her, and she could feel her face heat up.
Playing calmed her. She could focus on the chessboard where everything had its place, every chess piece its preordained moves, but the choreography was always new; an infinite number of combinations and possibilities. It made every game a surprise, but it was also familiar; a safe harbor for her emotions. After everything she had learned today, it was a relief to let them rest a little, turning all her attention to the game. And playing against Borgov again after all these years was also familiar, but also thrilling.
Time passed. There was no reason to rush, and they both took their time considering their movies. None of them spoke; there was no need for it. At one point Borgov turned on a few lamps; Beth had noticed the room was darkening until he did. A little later he went into the kitchen and returned with a plate of pierogi they silently ate while they played. It was a peaceful game, domestic. The kind of game Beth once had envisioned playing with Borgov in her garden in Kentucky. Then it had been an impossible daydream, but now she thought of her terrace in Paris, where large pots of roses soon would start flowering. Something inside her stirred like a bauble filled with golden promises. It suddenly didn’t seem impossible any longer the two of them could sit there one day.
Eventually, she realized the game didn’t go anywhere. They both moved the same piece back and forth, no one being able to find an opening. She looked up and met Borgov’s gaze, and he gave her his little half-smile, and she knew he had noticed the same.
“Draw?”
“Yes, Miss Harmon, a draw.”
Beth leaned on her elbows and contemplated the remaining chess pieces, thinking of what to say next.
“Do you regret giving up your career for me?”
“No. It would have been worse to see you stunted. And what is the point of being on top if you know you only stay there because your competition was unfairly eliminated?”
Beth nodded, she understood that. “None, of course.”
“I still love you, you know.”
Her heart seemed to expand in her chest at his words, but she didn’t dare to look at him. Beth was afraid it would render her speechless if she did, and she was afraid she would say the wrong words. It seemed so fragile, what she wanted him to know, so easy to not get it right. Instead, she reached out her hand towards him, and he took it. It felt easier when she could look at their fingers entwined, laying on the chessboard between them.
“I never stopped loving you. I thought I had- I wanted to, anyway. But those people we still love have been gone for twenty years. I’m not that Beth anymore, for good and for bad. I’ve changed, and so have you. How can we know we even like each other now?”
“I don’t think we need to doubt that,” Borgov said mildly. “But you are right, our lives haven’t stood still just because we haven’t been together.”
“I’ve been married.”
“I know.”
“And had lovers.”
“I haven’t been without company either.”
“But not now?”
“No, not for some time.” He gripped her hand a little tighter. “What do you want, Beth?”
“I want a beginning. A real beginning. The world is changing and there’s no need to hide anymore; we can keep in contact. Write letters; visit each other. I can stay in St. Petersburg for a while. I have never been here before, and perhaps you could show me your city? I would like that a lot. And I want to do all the other things we never could do before. But I don’t want to be in any hurry to get somewhere. I don’t need promises or plans set in stone. I just want a beginning and see what happens next.”
She dared to look at him then, and she could see his answer in his eyes before he spoke.
“Yes, I want that too.”
He stood up, pulling her up with him and into his arms. Beth nestled close, put her cheek against his chest, inhaled his scent, and relished in the feeling of his powerful arms around her. She felt warm and safe, and giddily happy. If she only could stay, but she had already said she didn’t want things to happen too fast.
“It’s late. I should go.”
She tried to take a step back, but Vasily kept his hand around her waist and instead pulled her closer, burrowing his face in her hair.
“Do you have to? Would it be too much of a rush to ask you to stay the night?”
Beth tilted her head back and smiled at him. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“If you can persuade me.”
“Is that so?”
Vasily vowed his hand in her hair and tilted her chin so he could kiss her. Beth wound her arms around his neck and stood on her toes, kissing him back as eagerly as he kissed her. They were both breathless when they pulled apart.
“Enough persuasion?”
“Not quite. A kiss is just a kiss, after all.”
The hand in her hair tightened, and he shook her head slightly.”
“You are still a minx, my love.”
Suddenly Vasily swung her around, so her back was against his chest, and his hand, broad and warm, pressed against Beth’s throat. Not choking, but with enough force to keep her immobilized against his body. His other hand started a slow dance over her collarbones, stroking the delicate skin there, and then dipping a little lower, unbuttoning the first button of her dress. Then another one, and another.
Beth could barely breathe when his fingertips brushed the top of her breasts, but it was only for a second, then he continued with the buttons. She fumbled over her belt buckle, unfastened it, and let the belt fall to the floor, so he could continue with her dress. He caressed her stomach, dragging his fingers up between her breasts, but not touching them. Then another button, and finally, the last one, and the dress fell apart down the middle. Vasily unhurriedly ran his fingers along the edge of her black lace bra, but he didn’t go further. Beth who had decided to not urge him on couldn’t resist a small frustrated whimper when he once again bypassed breasts to skim over her waist and hips instead.
He murmured in her ear. ” I thought you said you weren’t impatient anymore.”
“I’m not- it’s you who is infuriatingly slow.”
“He chuckled. “Just the way you like it.”
In answer, Beth pressed herself harder against him, feeling to her satisfaction that he was as aroused as she was.
“So, have I persuaded you yet?”
“Will you touch me properly if I say yes?”
“Maybe.”
Vasily released her, easing her dress down her arms so she could slip out of it. Beth quickly removed her panties and pantyhose and turned around only clad in her bra. The naked hunger in his eyes felt like it scorched her.
“You look very indecent like that.”
“Just the way you like it then.”
He reached for her, but she danced away and poked out the tip of her tongue at him. Vasily Borgov grinned, yes grinned, and in two quick steps caught her again. Beth squirmed a little, so she could start unfastening his shirt, while he opened her bra clasp.
“All right, I stay. But only because it’s too cold to go outside now that you have stolen my clothes.”
She kissed his chest, letting her hands roam his body. His body had softened a little with age, but it was still muscular. Vasily took her arm and steered her to the bedroom. It was not large, the bed occupied most of the floor-space, but it was a neat aunty rest of his home, the bed made up with clean white sheets that smelled faintly of lavender when Beth sat down on it. Vasily divested himself of the last of his clothes, and she pulled him down to her.
It seemed her body remembered his perfectly, molding itself to fit against him. His hands touched her in all the right places, in exactly the right way; he remembered too. Vasily had always excited her, coaxing her arousal to heights no one else could ever do. That hadn’t changed, and Beth came laughing and crying at the same time. When he entered her, she wrapped both her arms and legs around him, wanting him as close as possible.
Afterward, Beth lay in his arms, lazily moving her fingers in circles over his chest. “I used to hate falling asleep with you because I knew you would always be gone when I woke up the next day.”
“But not tomorrow.”
“Never again when we are together. And tomorrow will be the first time we wake up together.”
Vasily kissed her lightly on her forehead. “The first of many firsts.”
Beth smiled at him, snuggled closer, and closed her eyes. Sleep couldn’t come fast enough, and tomorrow was full of promises.
END
Notes: The quote in the beginning from this fic is from a song called La chanson des vieux amants. Sometimes I get a song stuck in my head when I write, and this song got really stuck, especially the second verse and the refrain. For those who don’t speak French, The title translates to The Old Lovers Song
I, I know all your spells/You know all my charms/You kept me from trap to trap/I lost you from time to time/Of course, you took a few lovers/Time had to be spent/The body just has to exult/In the end, in the end/It took us much talent/To be old without being adults
But my love/My sweet, my tender, my wonderful love/From the clear dawn until the end of the day/I love you still, you know, I love you
The melody is heartbreakingly beautiful, and you can find the song here.. Jaques Brel was at his height of popularity in 1967, so Beth could very well have heard his music when she was in Paris.
