CONQUEST • Negan

The Hierarchy

"Well isn't this domestic?" Negan said as I placed the plate of cooked venison infront of him on the table. His eyes followed me as I moved around the table to take my own seat opposite of him, choosing to forgo a plate for myself since I had plans of using the rest of the meat to make a venison stew that could feed about 30 people. "Can't you just imagine it? Doing this everyday, serving me everyday as my wife? I sure can and I like it."

"If I was eating, you would have just caused me to throw it all back up."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Dice. We could really have a bright future you and I." He popped a slice of the meat in his mouth, which I made sure was slightly undercooked just so it would bite him in the ass tomorrow and teach him a lesson about eating food that he wasn't welcome to. He smirked as he chewed around it, and it was difficult to smother down my own victorious grin and keep my face plain and indifferent. "Mm, see, all you have to do is ask and I'll make it happen."

I leaned back in my chair and brought my feet up onto the table, crossing them at the ankles. "Make what happen?" I raised a brow, and then brought my attention back down to Bertha and the sharpening stone that slid across her blade with a zing.

Negan's eyes tracked the movement, "This. You and I. Just say the word and I'll up and move here."

I scoffed, "I'm good."

He looked at me with scrutiny, as if he couldn't believe that I was actually turning him down again.

"What? You find it so hard to believe that you're not, in fact, gods gift to man like mommy told you, you were?"

"Oh, but I most definitely am." He placed his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin and then leaned back in his chair, "Just ask my 13 wives."

The sharpening stone almost slipped from my hand, "Your what?"

He chuckled, "Don't act surprised. I mean, look at me. They were all just lining up to get a bit of this, and because I'm all for the sharin' and carin', I let them."

"You have a harem?"

He shrugged, "Call it what you like."

My stomach churned. There was no way in hell that was a consensual arrangement. "Those poor women."

Negan tutted and his eyes flashed, "They ain't poor. They're better off than most. Served three meals a day, given a roof, heat, a warm bed, clean clothes, and the protection that can only be offered by belonging to me. How many people do you know that has luxuries like that?"

"Doesn't sound like a luxury. Sounds like a jail sentence." I placed Bertha down onto the table along with the stone. "And what do they get in return for these 'luxuries'?" I quoted the air.

"Apart from the gift of having me as their husband and all the physical benefits that come with that? Points and medicine usually, protection for their family. They get to jump to the top of the food chain." He scratched at his beard.

"Sounds like coercion to me." My tongue tasted like ash. I knew Negan was a bad man, maybe even the devil incarnate, but this was just despicable.

"Hardly." His cheery tone fizzled into something stern and guarded, eyes loosing their familiar spark of humour.

"It totally is just that. You're taking advantage of desperate women and having sex with them in exchange for something they need to survive." I shook my head, drawing a judgemental eye down the length of him and grimacing at what I saw. "You're twisted and fucked in the head."

He looked at me with that same expression he wore when Daryl jumped out to punch him at the line up. Tempered fury, barely restrained. But I wouldn't take back what I said, even if he didn't want to hear it, it was the truth. I would tell him exactly what I thought, consequences be damned, since for most of us, the last thing we really had left was our morals.