39010 réponses à ce sujet

[LadyDamodred]

"Everyone has a dark(er) side."  Long prompt is long.

~*~


When Kalea didn’t come to his tent last night, Alistair didn’t think anything of it. It had been a long day—Maker, a long week—and coupled with the surprise darkspawn ambush late in the day, they were all exhausted. After getting healing from Wynne, Alistair had barely been able to stay awake through supper, and had crawled into his tent, falling asleep mere seconds after he laid his head down.
 
So, when he woke up and the elven mage wasn’t by his side, he assumed that she had felt the same way he did and had slept in her own tent that night. It wasn’t the first time that had happened and undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last. He thought that until he looked across the camp and saw her emerging from Zevran’s tent.
 
For one, frozen moment he just stared, not believing what he was seeing. There had to be some rational, logical explanation and his mind starting frantically searching for one. And then Zevran came out behind her. The assassin dipped his head to brush her cheek with his lips at the same time his hand tucked her loose hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering over and playing with the delicately pointed tip.
 
His world shattered. Neither of them had seen him yet and he turned away, hurriedly busying himself with striking his tent, needing something to do that would keep him away from them while he tried to process this sudden and disturbing turn of events.
 
He knew she’d had other lovers before him—that she was far more sexually experienced than he, and that she liked to flirt. But he had never thought it would result in something like this. How could she do this to him? To them? Didn’t she know how he felt about her? Maker’s breath, he’d told her that he loved her! Did that mean nothing to her?
 
It was then that he realized that he had assumed she felt the same way. Now that he thought about it, he realized that she’d never said it to him. Habit kept his hands moving as he rolled the canvas and tent poles into a neat pile, his mind no longer on the task at all, but wholly consumed with this terrible realization.
 
She had never told him that she loved him. Liked him? Yes. Wanted him? Yes. But love? No, that had never crossed her lips. Something hot and dark bloomed in his chest, spreading out like a sickness. He couldn’t confront her about it right now. He knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to string a coherent sentence together and that would just make him look like an idiot. So he would wait, give himself to watch and decide exactly what he was going to do.
 
~*~
 
He said nothing to either of them, and no one said anything to him, though he caught a few curious glances from Leliana and Wynne. Instead, he watched, watched as the two of them shared little touches and looks, moments of affection that she should have been sharing with him.
 
His temper became short, his normal joviality fleeing in the wake of his anger. The darkness in him turned into something ugly. When Kalea came to him a few nights later, leaning down to kiss him, he pushed her away abruptly, standing and saying he was tired and was going to bed. There was a flash of hurt in her wide, deep brown eyes, but he ignored it. He wasn’t the one who had chosen this, and if it hurt her, well, good!
 
With Zevran, he didn’t even bother hiding how he felt. He stopped talking to the rogue altogether, glaring at the elf with undisguised hostility and hate. For his part, Zevran understood the unspoken message and kept as far from Alistair as possible.
 
It came to a head during a fight with another group of darkspawn. Alistair was used to serving as a shield for the others, taking strikes meant for others, his armor and shield absorbing blows that would have felled them. And he had done it for all of them. Certainly for Kalea, Wynne and Leliana, but also for Morrigan, Sten and Zevran.
 
Alistair saw the attack before it came, saw the shriek heading for Zevran as the elf wove and sliced through the monsters. With the noise all around them, people yelling and shouting, the darkspawn screaming and bellowing, no warning he called could have been heard. But he had time to get there, place himself between the assassin’s unprotected back and the shriek. He could run in once more, putting himself in the path of danger and saving Zevran from the attack.
 
He didn’t.
 
Instead, he turned back to the hurlock he was fighting, not responding as he heard Zevran cry out. There were immediate pulls of magic as he felt both Kalea and Wynne cast their healing spells, a growl from Canth as the mabari launched himself at the shriek so that Zevran could fall back, away from the danger.
 
It wasn’t until the battle was over, the last of the darkspawn dead on the ground, that he looked over. Wynne was attending to injuries the others had received. Kalea was kneeling on the ground next to Zevran. The assassin was sitting up, but he was pale and covered in blood, his armor rent in several places. Zevran looked over Kalea’s shoulder at him, and in that gaze, Alistair saw that Zevran knew what had happened.
 
He turned away, his face not betraying the surge of satisfaction at seeing his foe so beaten.
 
~*~
 
“Alistair? Can we talk?”
 
Kalea’s tentative question pulled him back into awareness. His first impulse was to say no, to send her away. His mood, already black, had turned even darker in the days since he let Zevran be injured. As much as it satisfied that primal urge to hurt the other man, it nagged at him, his conscience telling him it was wrong and that he damn well knew it. He’d been unable to sleep well, wrestling with himself.
 
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?” he said coldly.
 
She shook her head and looked around the camp. “Not here. I want to talk alone. Walk with me. Please?”
 
He stood and strode from the camp into the surrounding woods, forcing her to hurry to keep up with his long strides. At one point, she tried to take his hand in hers, but he snatched it away.
 
Finally coming to clearing, far away from the camp and any listening ear, he turned on her. “All right. We’re alone. Talk.”
 
Frowning, Kalea asked, “What is wrong with you?”
 
Was she really going to play dumb here? “Nothing’s wrong with me,” he replied shortly.
 
“Alistair, something is obviously wrong. You’re not yourself.”
 
“I’m not? Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”
 
That took her aback, and she looked startled. “Alistair, please.” She stepped closer to him, almost touching, and raised her hand to his cheek. He turned his head to the side. “See?” she cried. “That! That’s what I mean. You don’t talk to me anymore, or touch me. You avoid me. What’s going on?”
 
It was too much and he couldn’t contain it anymore. “How dare you?! How dare you come to me and ask me what’s wrong? I don’t talk to you anymore? I don’t touch you? Well, why would I want to after you started sleeping with that…that assassin?!” he snarled at her.
 
Her eyes flew open wide and he reached up and grabbed the wrist that she still held raised, crushing it in his grip, and pulled her into him, his other arm wrapping around her like a band of steel.
 
“What do you think I am?” he hissed. “Am I supposed to watch you touch him, kiss him and say nothing? Watch you go to his tent and listen to him make you cry out? Am I just supposed to sit and do nothing and then just take you back when you feel like it?”
 
“Alistair, wait, no—”
 
“Shut up!” he snarled. “I’m a man, Kalea, only a man and I can only take so much! And this…this is too much!”
 
It was hard being near her and being this angry. Her silky red hair shimmered in the late afternoon light, the clean scent of it making him want to bury his face in it. Her dark eyes were large with surprise, like bottomless depths that he could fall into and be happy to never emerge from.
 
“Don’t you know how I feel about you?” he asked hoarsely. “I love you, Kalea. I would do anything for you—I would die for you—but I can’t…I can’t do this. I can’t sit and watch you go to another. It’s killing me, seeing you with him. I don’t want to lose you, but you have to choose: me or him. I can live with whatever you decide, but I can’t live with things the way they are now.”
 
For a long moment she didn’t say anything and he felt his heart sink. Alistair had hoped that he might get through to her, but apparently it hadn’t been enough.
 
“You…love me.” The words were a statement, but her tone was doubtful, questioning.
 
“Yes.”
 
“When…when you say that, Alistair, what do you mean?”
 
He blinked at her. “What do I mean? What do you think I mean? I love you. I want to be with you—and only you—for the rest of my life. I want to kiss you and love you and make you smile and laugh. I want to wake up next to you every morning.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “And I want…I want you to want to same thing with me. I want—wait, no, why are you crying?”
 
Kalea buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking. He let go of her wrist, dropping his hand to her head, cradling it.
 
“In the tower,” she began, “lots of boys told me they loved me. But it never really meant anything. Love was just something you said when you wanted to fumble underneath someone else’s robes, in hidden corners and closets. What you described…that doesn’t happen for us. It’s a story, a fantasy you only find in books. So when you said it, I thought that’s what you meant—that you just wanted my body, that you meant what everyone else meant.
 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize what this—what I—meant to you.”
 
She hadn’t known what he meant? He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to steady himself, and inside of him, that darkness let go a little bit. The feel of her fingertips on his cheek made him open his eyes.
 
“I think…I think I love you, too, Alistair.” She bit her lower lip and worried at it. “I’ll have to tell, Zevran. I hope he’ll understand.” She drew back. “Let me go do that and then you and I can…make this up to you.”
 
Alistair was going to say he didn’t care whether or not Zevran understood, but he realized how needless it was. He had won.
 
The ugliness drew back a bit further as he followed her back to camp, but he knew it wasn’t gone. Maybe it never would be. Until it had happened, he hadn’t been aware that he could feel that way, that his hate for Loghain could be eclipsed by something far deeper, far more primal.
 
What he had felt when he saw her with another man…. No, that would never really go away. It would always be with him, waiting, in case anyone ever tried to take her from him again.

[Tigress M]

@RC, zjarcal, and tuppence - Thank you all so much!

[Persephone]

Ah, I'd love to write a "Everyone has a darker side" prompt. But Sarah already wrote a perfect Loghain centered one. Or would my fellow Alistairians like to read more based on THAT decision? :happy::innocent:

[Merilsell]

*snickers*

<--- Has sooo much to write darker Alistair right now. What? Oh nothing, just move on, nothing to see here. xD

@Bleetman: Very touching and sad.

@Tigress: I loved the extended DR-scene and especially being in Alistair's head. Game-limitations are bleh, so yay for FF which can correct the rather limited interaction at that point.

[errant_knight]

inclemency wrote...

errant_knight wrote...

inclemency wrote...

errant_knight wrote...

inclemency wrote...

@ Rak, I found it! In Hirsig's Tower there is a ring in Hirsig's chest. Open your inventory after you get it and use it, it will transport you to camp.

Interesting note, the companion ring will take you to Lothering before it was destroyed. Not sure why, as yet.


@ Merilsell, I'm going to wrestle with the idea for a bit, I think, but it's another stroke of brilliance!

Huh. And here I carried that thing around for the whole mad without ever trying to use it. Went through a ton of injury kits, let me tell you!

I took Wynne with me this time around, Quest's hint about circle mage/deathscene fascinated me 

I may not have gotten that since I killed a certain character early on. Not ringing any bells

Well, he did say something about no one playing the evil side, as well.  Alistair gave a +1 even though he protested, think that needs to be changed!

Heh, I still don't know what you're talking about. Alistair didn't protest about anything I did.... Maybe PM me.

Modifié par errant_knight, 20 novembre 2010 - 07:26 .

[Tigress M]

@LadyD - I'm actually crying. I could feel his anger, his jealousy, his despair. And poor Kalea, knowing only lust and never love, until Alistair. Please please please tell me he didn't break her heart and dump her after the LM!!!

[Tigress M]

Persephone wrote...

Ah, I'd love to write a "Everyone has a darker side" prompt. But Sarah already wrote a perfect Loghain centered one. Or would my fellow Alistairians like to read more based on THAT decision? :happy::innocent:

Please do!  One of the beautiful things about these prompts is that we get a much more vivid sense of how other's view the events of DA.  It's truly wonderful to me.  

[Tigress M]

@Meri - thanks! I'm excited to see what you'll come up with. (Hoping it includes Lenya, my second favorite DE in all of DA. LOL)

[rak72]

Tigress M wrote...

@LadyD - I'm actually crying. I could feel his anger, his jealousy, his despair. And poor Kalea, knowing only lust and never love, until Alistair. Please please please tell me he didn't break her heart and dump her after the LM!!!

I say DUMP HER!!

JK - that was sad. poor Ali. Nice job everyone.

[tuppence95]

@LadyD - Beautifully written!  And I second the hope that Alistair doesn't end up dumping Kalea!

@Rage - Your morph made me so sad!  That face looks like he's been in hell.  

[Sarah1281]

@LadyDamodred: Part of that was really sweet and the other part was chilling, such as when he wouldn't save Zevran due to his jealousy. It's fitting given the prompt but I can't help but worry about what else his dark side and love for Kalea might cause him to do. The way you said this eclipsed his hatred for Loghain...definitely worrying, particularly as I don't feel that the depth of his hatred for Loghain is particularly healthy for him either.

[LadyDamodred]

Thank you! And no, no, he doesn't. Kalea is my "Run off and be Grey Wardens" PC. She and Alistair live happily ever after. With Alistair occassionally persuading some gentlemen that there are more available women elsewhere.

Sarah:  It won't turn all obsessiony or anything, with Alistair like locking her in a basement to make sure she stays "his".  But she's the only person he's every really loved, so losing her like that makes him a tad possessive.

Modifié par LadyDamodred, 20 novembre 2010 - 07:36 .

[Merilsell]

Tigress M wrote...

@Meri - thanks! I'm excited to see what you'll come up with. (Hoping it includes Lenya, my second favorite DE in all of DA. LOL)

Aww thanks, lol.

Yes, Lenya will be starring in that one, as usual...though this time rather indirectly, so to speak. *cough*

*goes back to writing*

[Tigress M]

Glad to hear it, LadyD! And I can just see Alistair "persuading" the men they encounter that Kalea is NOT on the market.

[errant_knight]

Great story, Lady D.!

[errant_knight]

LadyDamodred wrote...

Thank you! And no, no, he doesn't. Kalea is my "Run off and be Grey Wardens" PC. She and Alistair live happily ever after. With Alistair occassionally persuading some gentlemen that there are more available women elsewhere.

Sarah:  It won't turn all obsessiony or anything, with Alistair like locking her in a basement to make sure she stays "his".  But she's the only person he's every really loved, so losing her like that makes him a tad possessive.

I think most people would go there if a person they loved started screwing someone right in front of them. Gah!

[KnightofPhoenix]

errant_knight wrote...

LadyDamodred wrote...

Thank you! And no, no, he doesn't. Kalea is my "Run off and be Grey Wardens" PC. She and Alistair live happily ever after. With Alistair occassionally persuading some gentlemen that there are more available women elsewhere.

Sarah:  It won't turn all obsessiony or anything, with Alistair like locking her in a basement to make sure she stays "his".  But she's the only person he's every really loved, so losing her like that makes him a tad possessive.

I think most people would go there if a person they loved started screwing someone right in front of them. Gah!

Yea, I think he took it rather well (except for wanting Zevran to die for a moment).
I would have been less forgiving.

Great story LD.

Modifié par KnightofPhoenix, 20 novembre 2010 - 07:47 .

[Lady Jess]

Prompt...

"So let me ask you something. What are your intentions with her?" Alistair demanded of the blonde elf as they made their way through Orzammar. He had every right to ask as far as he was concerned. Tryna was special to him. Not in any romantic sense, but she was a friend. She'd let him lean on her when he'd lost everything. She'd cheered him up with her smart aleck quips when he'd needed it most. To see the blatant flirtation between her and the man that tried to kill them all was disturbing.

"You speak of her as if she is not present. She is just right over there, you know..." Zevran shot back.
Tryna just grinned.
"Don't dodge the question. I'm serious." Alistair shot back.
"Is this brotherly concern I detect? Or something else? Perhaps you are concerned for me, yes?" Zev returned, again not answering the question.
Alistair was ready to pull his hair out. Tryna and Leliana were out front doing their best to not laugh out loud at the exchange. Tryna adored Alistair, she'd mentally dubbed him "salroka". She found it as heartwarming as amusing that someone would actually care about her welfare. Dusters like her usually didn't see that kind of loyalty. But she knew she was safe with Zev. She knew more about him than any of them.
"I am just asking what your intentions are. You did try to kill us all, remember?" Alistair pushed, clearly sounding irritated.
"And now I owe her a blood debt, as she has spared my life. It has brought us... closer together." came the reply.
"Is that a smirk? Are you smirking at me?" Alistair practically growled, shocking them all. Tryna was sure he was going to have to throw cold water on them if this kept up. She didn't realize Alistair had this side to him. As impressive as this darker personality was, it was the last thing they needed right now. It was hard enough walking through her old home, in the commons, with the brand on her face.

"I assure you, ser, that I am not smirking. No smirking here, no." Zev answered.

"Well, just... watch yourself, then. I'll be keeping an eye on you." Alistair told him in a tone that was unmistakable. He'd lost enough. He was NOT going to lose his closest friend, the sister his own blood kin would never be. He knew in his heart she could handle herself. She was a fine warrior. But the thought that this former crow might hurt her somehow, took him to a dark place that had only announced it's existence since Ostagar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And because they're awesome!




The work of Gilsa:)

Modifié par Lady Jess, 20 novembre 2010 - 07:54 .

[RagingCyclone]

@Lady J, very touching. I like the brotherly way you portrayed him.

@LadyD, that was very well done. 20 years ago I was in a similar situation, and like Alistair during that battle sequence took actions I later regretted. Very accurate on the emotions jealousy takes you to.

@tupp, thanks. I was trying to get that look because at that stage he really has gone through hell both physically and emotionally.

Modifié par RagingCyclone, 20 novembre 2010 - 08:12 .

[Sarah1281]

@Lady Jess: It's interesting to see Alistair in protective big brother mode since I've seen him on the other end so many times before (I especially liked 'Permission to Engage' which is a long-ish one-shot devoted entirely to Fergus making sure Alistair was worthy of his sister). He does it very well but Zevran can handle himself. I love it that he does it right in front of Tryna, too.

[Lady Jess]

Sarah1281 wrote...

@Lady Jess: It's interesting to see Alistair in protective big brother mode since I've seen him on the other end so many times before (I especially liked 'Permission to Engage' which is a long-ish one-shot devoted entirely to Fergus making sure Alistair was worthy of his sister). He does it very well but Zevran can handle himself. I love it that he does it right in front of Tryna, too.

That was my all time favorite banter in Tryna's playthrough. So much so that I looked it up in the toolset to read the VO notes. I *thought* Alistair was being aggressive, but wasn't real sure. Until I saw the one line had "growling" as a VO note. And I too love how Zev handles himself with him. He personifies "water off a duck's back"...lol

The three of them ended the game as friends. Alistair remained a warden, Zev and Tryna went to the wardens. The 3 Amigos...lol

[Tigress M]

@Jess - That was great! And so very, Alistair. Well done!

[Persephone]

*Everyone has a darker side* Or do they? Prompt:

Author's note: This is a rewritten version of Ch. 9 (As yet unposted) of "The Edge Of The Grey Enigma". It is rewritten in a fashion that allows it to stand as a one-shot. Reading of the novel is not necessary, though it might deepen the experience. Enjoy!

P.S. This wasn't beta-ed and only proof-read by yours truly. Be gentle. :happy:

Misericordia

Vien dietro a me e lascia dir le genti. DANTE
Contando i casi della vita nostra. PETRARCA
Many in aftertimes will say of you
"He lov'd her"--while of me what will they say?
Not that I lov'd you more than just in play,
For fashion's sake as idle women do.
Even let them prate; who know not what we knew
Of love and parting in exceeding pain,
Of parting hopeless here to meet again,
Hopeless on earth, and heaven is out of view.
But by my heart of love laid bare to you,
My love that you can make not void nor vain,
Love that foregoes you but to claim anew
Beyond this passage of the gate of death,
I charge you at the Judgment make it plain
My love of you was life and not a breath.
(Christina Georgina Rossetti, Monna Inomminata)

Thunderstorms had always scared her as a child. Back at Highever there were no darkspawn haunting her dreams, no urgency to be a step ahead of the Blight, no lives depending on her. Lighting flashed, followed by ominious thunder. The brilliant clashes of  fire and the night still rattled her to a degree. Sleepless nights of constant vigilance had sharpened the edges of her features as much as suffering a lifetime's worth of sacrifice, loss and redemption in but a single year. There were still people to talk to before she could rest, never mind the conversation she was bound to have with her second in command once they were finished discussing Warden business. Sitting down before her mirror she was startled by the image staring back at her through blank eyes, devoid of any feelings except grit and determination. Her white linen robe seemed alien, having worn nothing but her Warden leathers since her escape from the inferno at Highever. A gentle rap at the door cut off her reminiscing jarringly.

"Come in!" she called in a tone that sounded more like Get the hell away from me.

His hesitation gave him away and when the door finally opened, his reflection had changed as much as hers. Where had been boyishly handsome, he was now hauntingly exquisite, like all creatures who had been shaped by betrayal, vengeance and shattered hopes. His eyes were the same though. Velvety dark and warm, like shining candles in a cold night. He watched her rise and approach the window without a word. Pulling it open she felt a gust of wind and rain against her skin, it felt good. It felt familiar. He was part of the world she had forsaken, the one ray of sunlight in a bleak, deserted universe.

"Alistair." Her voice wrapped itself around his name like a tide of melancholy and regret. "I was not expecting you."

"Rhiannon. I...." Words failed him at the sight of her. He had noticed her changed appearance and part of him had mourned her luxurious hair. When had she cut it to shoulder length and, more importantly, why? That aside, she seemed more stern, more aloof. Her shoulders were painfully rigid, her entire posture was that of a cat on the verge of attack. Her demeanor had never been that what most Fereldans deemed becoming to womanhood. Always on edge rather than soothingly kind, wildly passionate instead of becomingly demure... She was a crossroad of contradictions and shades, a book lacking too many pages to make sense to a casual reader.

"Please, before you say what you have come to say...." Her eyes were pleading, her hands interlaced as if in hopeful prayer. "If you have come to rage at me as you without doubt feel I deserve to be shouted at....not tonight." Her vulnerability softened the blistering wounds of betrayal, dulled the pain of losing her to a tolerable level.

"I haven't come to yell at you. You know, funny thing, if you were to ask me now just why I came, I wouldn't be able to answer you truthfully." Unable to meet her eyes, his gaze swept through the room nervously, his hands dusting off unseen flecks of dirt on his armor.

"You have always been a poor liar, Alistair." Her reproof was gentle, yet it would not brook any denial.

"Caught that, didn't you?" A slight blush reddened his cheeks at her ability to read him like an open book. The world might be on the verge of ruin, yet that would never change.

"Enough of this." A new sharpness had crept into her tone, unfamiliar and so unlike her. "Why have you come?"

"I....I had to see you. I had to know you're alright." He wanted to take those words back the moment he had let them slip past his lips. Her eyes narrowed into icy slits, her shoulders were shaking with barely concealed anger.

"So this is all about you again after all?" Acidic words, accompanied by a withering glare that made him writhe at his own stupidity.

"No, how could you possibly think....." She cut him off with a mirthless chuckle coated in disdain and something deeper, something he could not define.

"Why did you have to barge in here like the Maker damn king I forced you to be to check on me? Are you truly so self absorbed not to notice that....." Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing short and ragged. "How can you not see, not understand that you are making it worse?" Crystalline tears were clinging to her eye lashes as she attempted to blink them away.

"But I only....." he began again, hands raised in mute disbelief at her reception of his attempt to make peace. Not forgiveness, never that, yet peace at the eve of battle, was she unable to see his intention?

"You wanted me to mend your conscience because it has finally occurred to you that your decision to abandon us in the clutches of the Archdemon might not have been what Duncan would have wanted?" she snarled spitefully. It hurt, as intended. Terribly. His eyes darkened with pain at the beloved name but she gave him no time to recover. "You are the least selfish person I know, yet the most self centered. Never mind me as long as you can get a night's rest after having faced your demons? Just like that everything is forgiven and forgotten?"

"Rhia...." he spoke again. The old endearment of her name, last whispered in adoration. That certainly got a reaction, if not the one he was hoping for.

"Do not call me that. You...you no longer have the right to do so." Now the tears fell. Angrily and hotly, like constant wells of sadness.

"I came here to tell you that I will support you as much as I can. Both Arl Eamon and...." here his tone grew spiteful to the point of utter disdain, "my future wife have agreed that fighting on the front lines is too much of a risk. I...."

"Stop!" she breathed. "I care not what you do or do not do." Her stricken face belied her callous words, her fingers clawing at the skirts of her robe betrayed the utter anguish she was feeling.

"That's not true and you know it!" he snarled back, finally catching her in a lie.

"Why are you doing this?" she half sobbed and snarled. "Why did you have to do this...." In a whirl of white and black she lunged herself at him, punching against his chest again and again until he caught her wrists.

"I never meant to hurt...." Well intended words, badly timed. A hiss emanated from her constricted throat as she broke free.

"Soft words with you, always nothing more than words. You still do not understand. Maybe you never will." In this at least, she was right. He had not decided to seek her out to hurt her further. Yet he had done so, no matter his intentions.

"It was your choice, remember?" Maybe that was cruel. But she was not the only one hurting. Not the only one mourning what could have been.

Her back stiffened, the tears ceased at that accusation.

"So...." she spoke in a deceptively silky tone, all smooth and dangerous. "You are finally admitting that this is not about me or Loghain or the battle tomorrow. This is about you and your precious feelings being hurt. Never mind the fact that your childish tantrum not only endangered Ferelden but all of Thedas, should we fail. You...." She smiled bitterly. "You could have made a difference. You chose not to because you did not get your way. To think that I....." He wanted to hear the end of that sentence, would have given all the gold in Orlais to hear her say it just once more. Instead he latched onto the anger that had offered itself so freely, so easily.

"That you what, Rhiannon? " he ground out between clenched teeth. What had once been his need of acceptance, of her love, had warped into a dark, alien desire to make her bleed as much as he did. The injustice of such a goal was fading rapidly and her obstinate refusal to concede to his arguments only sped up the process. Alpha and Omega they were, a bond akin to that of Hero and Leander connecting their hearts in a bloody tapestry.

"That I allowed myself to love you." A log shifted in the fireplace, sparks flying like mysterious beings come alive for but a moment. The implication was clear, merciless in its accuracy, tearing through what remained of his soul like an enchanted dagger.

"You mean.... Are you saying...?" Unable to go on, he turned away. His tears were no longer her privilege to behold.

"Alistair, know this and do not forget it. Whatever I take to my grave, you take to yours." Rhiannon met his eyes steadily, her eyes loving, her features stern. "The heart you betrayed by abandoning it when it relied on you most, know now what a heart it was. Fate, stronger than you or I, decreed that we be bound to each other not only by the taint but by a connection more sublime. An act of mercy severed the bond indefinitely."

Mercy. Misericordia. Misery.

"The same could be said....." he began anew, his hands seeking hers. Their fingers met, intertwining as they had done so many times.

"I know." Her voice was raw with pain and exhaustion, her grip tightened. They drew together, old feelings reborn anew.

"Go." she said softly, their lips only inches apart.

"Not yet...Rhia...." he pleaded, his gentle fingertips were stroking her cheek.

"Leave me. Now." Her voice was quivering slightly, her resolve however was impeccable.

A sigh escaped him chest as he let her go. She had been his life, the center of his love starved universe. The one treasure beyond price he had thought he could not live without. Determination to see this love avenged flared up within him. Whatever little he had had, Loghain had taken away from him. Everyone he had loved and trusted. Everything that had mattered to him. Payment in blood was overdue and he would have it. What more did he have to lose to begin with? Hatred, both sinister and deeply rooted, blossomed; clawed at what remained of his humanity. Mercy was, indeed, a double edged sword.

Misericordia. Miserere. Misery.

FINIS

Modifié par Persephone, 22 novembre 2010 - 10:17 .

[Yankee23]

I thought we needed a lighthearted fill...



"Everyone has a darker side"

[Persephone]

Yankee23 wrote...

I thought we needed a lighthearted fill...

"Everyone has a darker side"

*Snips*

Cheese!!!!!:innocent::innocent::innocent:

Now you made me hungry for cheese. Best served with an Alistair on top.....Oh wait.....*Plunges into the gutter*