He raised an eyebrow, glancing her way before at the closed turbolift doors. He felt trapped in it with her and questions that made him wonder where he had gone wrong in his life. He pushed it aside - introspection was not something he did as a habit. "Anything is possible," he said, because it was the truth. "Or it's just faulty."

"Why would you draw that conclusion without actual evidence or evaluation?" Tiraa challenged, though her voice was gentle. The turbolift came to a stop quickly enough given the ship wasn't very large and they stepped out into the corridor once more.

"I had an evaluation," he said, defensively, before he looked down. "And I figured out how to use it to my advantage, later. This? It's a temporary problem, nothing more. I can push it down, close it up. Just...needed the clear head tonight."

"Was it a proper evaluation by experienced doctors or some dismissive know-it-all who decided you weren't worth the time and care to investigate what was happening?" She didn't rise to his defensiveness. Instead she exuded a calm, collected presence both inward and outward. "Who is to say if this problem is temporary, really? There are already several pairings coupling up or close to it on the ship. If anything, it may very well get worse."

He suppressed a groan at the very idea of the relations getting worse. His green eyes narrowed, his shoulders remained tense despite the calmness he could sense at the edges of his perception. In a way, he was fighting it. He was fighting it all, someone poking at the parts of him that had always been sore. "It was a proper doctor. Blue uniform and all," he said, looking over at her. "What is it you're getting at?"

Tiraa chuckled just as they arrived outside the door to her quarters where she touched the keypad to unlock it. It opened with a hiss, and she stepped inside the refined space Rallid had made sure reflected her tastes and needs. Dark and elegant just like Tiraa, but also very comfortable. With a slight cant of her head, she motioned for Ragnar to join her inside. "In my experience, the ones in the blue uniforms tend to fall into the second category."

Ragnar paused just inside, his eyes moving over the quarters with the same automatic attention he gave any unfamiliar space. Dark, elegant and carefully arranged without feeling delicate, it suited her almost too well. Everything appeared chosen, nothing accidental, comfort present without softness being allowed to take over. It was refined in the same way Tiraa was refined, polished enough to draw the eye while still giving very little away. His attention returned to her, one eyebrow lifting slightly. “So what now?” he asked. “You planning to tell me the doctors were wrong, Princess, or prove it?”

"Well isn't it obvious? I've lured you into my lair and now I'm going to have my way with you." Tiraa chuckled as she walked away, stepping off into the enclosed bedroom area and then returning just a few seconds later carrying a small black cylindrical device.

"I don't know that the doctors were necessarily wrong, Ragnar, but what I am telling you is that unless you went to someone truly specialized in the issues our people can experience, they certainly might have been wrong." Her black eyes found his green ones and she continued to speak in a voice without judgment, "Your mind reminds me that of a child newly discovering their abilities. At times, it is fine and you are perfectly in control, then in the next instant you can be overwhelmed. You say you learned to use it to your advantage – think about what you could do if you had the ability to harness it to your will more often than your didn't."

Ragnar held her black eyes as she spoke, though the comparison to a child made his jaw tighten. He didn't like it, but he also couldn't dismiss what she was describing. Still, the way he held himself made it clear that he didn't appreciate that she had seen so straight through him. "I learned enough to be useful," he said when she finished, his voice even despite the defenses that lay beneath. "I had no choice. I'm in this body, in this brain. Just had to learn to live with it. Adapt or die, right?" He smiled, easy and relaxed, but his eyes showed as clearly as his emotions that his composure was hard fought. She made it sound like this is something he might have had a chance controlling, with the right training...not just deal with it when it spiraled out of control. "Maybe I could have caused some real damage," he said lightly. He tilted his head, thinking...but remaining silent. He was not sure if she was offering, or commenting.

Either way, it did not sit comfortably under his ribs.

She listened with an abundance of patience; her full attention was given to him as he spoke. She could feel his defensiveness radiating off of him as clearly as she could feel his fight for calm. It would have been so simple to press his mind and exert herself over him, but she did not. Once he had calmed into silence, she spoke again.

"You talk about it like your chance to learn is over; it certainly is not."

He looked at her at that, before he lifted his chin a little. It was part defensive, part him bracing himself. "I've learned new tricks before," he said quietly, before he looked away, the weight of her eyes too much. "I suspect this will come at a high cost, Princess. You strike me as someone who never does anything cheaply."

Tiraa allowed him to look away from her for about two beats, then reached out with her empty hand and took hold of his jaw to turn his head back to facing her. She handled him gently, but the gesture was commanding. "Actually I am known to be quite altruistic; this ship functions because of that fact."

She held the cylinder she was holding up at his eye level. "Take this. It will be better than whatever run-of-the-mill blocker you purchased and will help you sleep."

His eyes went briefly to the cylinder, and then back to her. He had frozen when she had touched him, stilled the way a statue was still. But it melted after a moment. He wanted call out what she was saying as lies. He wanted to make the point that there was always a price. Nothing here was free. So what did she want? He wasn't vain enough to think it was his body or mind. A favour? But there were no terms. He tugged his head from her grip and took a step back. "Addictive?" he asked, because it was also worth asking. If he was going to take it, to trust her words rather than his own experiences, he needed to make sure he wasn't committing himself to a harsh comedown.

Tiraa lowered the cylinder and instead offered it to him in a more natural reaching way. At his question, her lips twitched into just the slightest of smirks. "Why would I give the man who shares in the responsibility of keeping me safe something damaging? No, it is not addictive."

He reached out for it, eyes on it rather than her. "Control can be exercised in many ways," he said, taking it in his hand. He looked at it for a moment before he looked at her, the way she stood. She reminded him of an ancient painting. Beautiful. Cold. Yet burning. "Not all of them logical." But he did take her on her word for this.

The small smirk remained, and she released the cylinder from her grip in a way that her fingers brushed against his hand when he took it from her. She wondered if somewhere in that chaotic mind of his he knew that should she have desired to control him, she likely could have with ease. "Well then... you'll just have to trust me, won't you?"

He chuckled at that, shaking his head before he met her eyes and then held them. "I suppose I have to, Princess," he finally said, and the grin came back, appearing relaxed. "Thanks for this. And hopefully you'll...get some rest too."

"Goodnight then, Ragnar," his name rolled off her tongue again with an almost playful lilt to it. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight...Princess." He nodded, taking one moment to look at her longer before he turned and walked away, out of her quarters...to go back to the armoury and finish what he had started there before he did anything else.

END