The Number of Vices, chapter 5
May. 1st, 2021 08:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: The Number of Vices
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 5/?
Word Count: 1171
Characters: Beth Harmon, Vasily Borgov
Pairings Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov
Warnings: Angst, Rough sex, Uneven power dynamics, M/f, BDSM, Choking, Oral sex, Older man/Younger woman, Delayed orgasm, Spanking
Summary: Staying in Moscow after the Invitational, Beth is delighted to find Vasily Borgov is to show her the city. She has plans. So have Borgov.
The fic on AO3
As soon as she had said it, Beth regretted her words. What on earth had possessed her to say something like that, right now.? She had told herself it did not bother her that Borgov was married, after all, she hadn’t forced him to be unfaithful. But he had also always seemed to regard his wife with affection, and the discrepancy between the man who smiled so warmly at his wife, and the man who Beth had just slept with, was increasingly bothering her. Still, she could probably not have chosen a worse moment to talk about it than right now.
Beth tried to pull away, afraid she had angered him, but Borgov tightened his embrace. “You have thought much about this?”
“More and more,” Beth admitted, relieved that he didn’t seem upset.
“I see. I thought maybe you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“It’s a bit complicated.”
“It’s actually very simple; you just have to say yes or no.”
“I could, but it wouldn’t really explain anything. My wife and I got married when we were very young. Too young to know ourselves properly, and what we wanted in a relationship. We grew apart years ago, but to divorce, well, that wasn’t and isn’t a practical solution. It would negatively affect my career, and as long as we stay married, she doesn’t have to worry about money or losing other privileges. We are still very fond of each other, and as no one wants to marry anyone else, it’s not very difficult to let things stay as they are. But it’s an arrangement based on necessity and affection, not love.”
“Oh.”
“So to answer your question; no, I have never done this to her, not even when we slept together. It would only have hurt and bewildered her.”
Beth pondered this additional information for a minute or two. She felt quite relieved, so clearly she had been more troubled than she had cared to admit to herself. It brought out other questions, though.
“Do you have a mistress?”
“No. I prefer to keep things casual.”
That hurt. “Like with me.”
Borgov tilted up her head so he could see her face. “No, most definitely not like you. For one thing, I don’t sleep with women half my age with little experience.”
Before Beth had time to bristle about inexperience, he added.
“And you are Elizabeth Harmon. Nothing is casual about you, and any man who took you for inconsequential would be sorely mistaken.”
Borgov smiled down at her, and let her go so she could settle her head back on his chest, No one said anything for a few minutes, but then he talked again, very quietly and close to her ear.
“I’m always watched, day in and day out. I can’t even dare to believe I’m left alone in my home. And there is always the pressure to perform, to be the best from other people. My own ambition drives me, makes me better. Other’s expectations are a yoke that only grows heavier by time. On foreign grounds, it’s even worse. And It builds and builds until, in the end, you have to do something about it.”
“Because the only other option would be to scream and scream until you shatter.”
“Yes, exactly. “
“I feel like that all the time.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I rather thought you did.”
That settled, Beth relaxed, but then her mind went back to the beginning of the conversation.
“What did you mean when you said you thought I might know?”
“I assumed you had read it in my dossier. It isn’t exactly a secret.”
“What dossier?”
A tone of surprise crept into his voice. “You must have been given some information about me from your handler?”
“No, never. Do you mean you got one about me?”
Now Beth sat up, staring at Borgov in surprised outrage.
“Of course. The first one before Mexico City, and several after that.”
Beth thought of the conversation she had overheard in the elevator back then. She had always assumed it had just been tournament grapevine that had been discussed.
“What do you know about me?” she asked in a small voice.
“Quite a lot.”
“Like what?” she wanted to ask. “Do you know about my mother’s death, and that she tried to kill me too? Do you know about the children’s home and the drugs forced upon me there? Do you know about the booze and pills, and about Harry and Benny and Cleo?”
But Beth didn’t ask, because she could see in Borgov’s eyes he knew it all. Perhaps even about that Russian student, and about her stunted love for Townes. He had known everything, and they had kept her in the dark. She felt a sudden surge of anger at Mr. Booth, who had given her plenty of admonitions, but very few useful facts.
Another thought struck her; that dossier, it wouldn’t be just for Borgov, but for all the Soviet chess players. She suddenly felt naked in a way that had nothing to do with her current state of undress. All these people knew all the things she could hardly bring herself to tell to those who mattered to her. What did they all think of her? But then she thought of Luchenko, who had treated her with nothing but admiration and kindness. Or Borgov himself who she had seen looking at her with indifference, anger, concern, and lust, but never, ever, with pity. And what others thought of her didn’t matter, their opinions would never make her less than a chess player, and it took nothing away from her victories.
“And all the things you learned about me, were they useful?”
“A little. It taught me something about who you are, and why. But the things which are truly important about you I learned by watching you play. I didn’t beat you the first time because I knew about your past. But that knowledge of what you had endured gave me respect for everything you had already accomplished despite the odds. I admired your strength then, as I do now.”
“And you know how badly I’ve dealt with those things too.”
“You were a child; you were not responsible.”
“I’m not a child anymore. You know what happened in Paris. And I guess you know what I did when I came home again. It wasn’t pretty.”
“And still you conquered it. Haven’t you just come out victorious in a cloud of blazing glory? You may stumble and fall again, but you also know how to find yourself after.”
“Do you really think that?”
“I know it’s so.”
Beth smiled a small shaky smile, and Borgov smiled back. Then his eyes shifted to her bare breasts, and with that, the atmosphere in the room shifted as well.
“And I should have your admiration for being able to hold a coherent conversation while you sit here stark naked.”
Beth laughed and allowed herself to be pulled back into his welcoming arms.
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 5/?
Word Count: 1171
Characters: Beth Harmon, Vasily Borgov
Pairings Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov
Warnings: Angst, Rough sex, Uneven power dynamics, M/f, BDSM, Choking, Oral sex, Older man/Younger woman, Delayed orgasm, Spanking
Summary: Staying in Moscow after the Invitational, Beth is delighted to find Vasily Borgov is to show her the city. She has plans. So have Borgov.
The fic on AO3
As soon as she had said it, Beth regretted her words. What on earth had possessed her to say something like that, right now.? She had told herself it did not bother her that Borgov was married, after all, she hadn’t forced him to be unfaithful. But he had also always seemed to regard his wife with affection, and the discrepancy between the man who smiled so warmly at his wife, and the man who Beth had just slept with, was increasingly bothering her. Still, she could probably not have chosen a worse moment to talk about it than right now.
Beth tried to pull away, afraid she had angered him, but Borgov tightened his embrace. “You have thought much about this?”
“More and more,” Beth admitted, relieved that he didn’t seem upset.
“I see. I thought maybe you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“It’s a bit complicated.”
“It’s actually very simple; you just have to say yes or no.”
“I could, but it wouldn’t really explain anything. My wife and I got married when we were very young. Too young to know ourselves properly, and what we wanted in a relationship. We grew apart years ago, but to divorce, well, that wasn’t and isn’t a practical solution. It would negatively affect my career, and as long as we stay married, she doesn’t have to worry about money or losing other privileges. We are still very fond of each other, and as no one wants to marry anyone else, it’s not very difficult to let things stay as they are. But it’s an arrangement based on necessity and affection, not love.”
“Oh.”
“So to answer your question; no, I have never done this to her, not even when we slept together. It would only have hurt and bewildered her.”
Beth pondered this additional information for a minute or two. She felt quite relieved, so clearly she had been more troubled than she had cared to admit to herself. It brought out other questions, though.
“Do you have a mistress?”
“No. I prefer to keep things casual.”
That hurt. “Like with me.”
Borgov tilted up her head so he could see her face. “No, most definitely not like you. For one thing, I don’t sleep with women half my age with little experience.”
Before Beth had time to bristle about inexperience, he added.
“And you are Elizabeth Harmon. Nothing is casual about you, and any man who took you for inconsequential would be sorely mistaken.”
Borgov smiled down at her, and let her go so she could settle her head back on his chest, No one said anything for a few minutes, but then he talked again, very quietly and close to her ear.
“I’m always watched, day in and day out. I can’t even dare to believe I’m left alone in my home. And there is always the pressure to perform, to be the best from other people. My own ambition drives me, makes me better. Other’s expectations are a yoke that only grows heavier by time. On foreign grounds, it’s even worse. And It builds and builds until, in the end, you have to do something about it.”
“Because the only other option would be to scream and scream until you shatter.”
“Yes, exactly. “
“I feel like that all the time.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I rather thought you did.”
That settled, Beth relaxed, but then her mind went back to the beginning of the conversation.
“What did you mean when you said you thought I might know?”
“I assumed you had read it in my dossier. It isn’t exactly a secret.”
“What dossier?”
A tone of surprise crept into his voice. “You must have been given some information about me from your handler?”
“No, never. Do you mean you got one about me?”
Now Beth sat up, staring at Borgov in surprised outrage.
“Of course. The first one before Mexico City, and several after that.”
Beth thought of the conversation she had overheard in the elevator back then. She had always assumed it had just been tournament grapevine that had been discussed.
“What do you know about me?” she asked in a small voice.
“Quite a lot.”
“Like what?” she wanted to ask. “Do you know about my mother’s death, and that she tried to kill me too? Do you know about the children’s home and the drugs forced upon me there? Do you know about the booze and pills, and about Harry and Benny and Cleo?”
But Beth didn’t ask, because she could see in Borgov’s eyes he knew it all. Perhaps even about that Russian student, and about her stunted love for Townes. He had known everything, and they had kept her in the dark. She felt a sudden surge of anger at Mr. Booth, who had given her plenty of admonitions, but very few useful facts.
Another thought struck her; that dossier, it wouldn’t be just for Borgov, but for all the Soviet chess players. She suddenly felt naked in a way that had nothing to do with her current state of undress. All these people knew all the things she could hardly bring herself to tell to those who mattered to her. What did they all think of her? But then she thought of Luchenko, who had treated her with nothing but admiration and kindness. Or Borgov himself who she had seen looking at her with indifference, anger, concern, and lust, but never, ever, with pity. And what others thought of her didn’t matter, their opinions would never make her less than a chess player, and it took nothing away from her victories.
“And all the things you learned about me, were they useful?”
“A little. It taught me something about who you are, and why. But the things which are truly important about you I learned by watching you play. I didn’t beat you the first time because I knew about your past. But that knowledge of what you had endured gave me respect for everything you had already accomplished despite the odds. I admired your strength then, as I do now.”
“And you know how badly I’ve dealt with those things too.”
“You were a child; you were not responsible.”
“I’m not a child anymore. You know what happened in Paris. And I guess you know what I did when I came home again. It wasn’t pretty.”
“And still you conquered it. Haven’t you just come out victorious in a cloud of blazing glory? You may stumble and fall again, but you also know how to find yourself after.”
“Do you really think that?”
“I know it’s so.”
Beth smiled a small shaky smile, and Borgov smiled back. Then his eyes shifted to her bare breasts, and with that, the atmosphere in the room shifted as well.
“And I should have your admiration for being able to hold a coherent conversation while you sit here stark naked.”
Beth laughed and allowed herself to be pulled back into his welcoming arms.
